C. Omololu - Intuition

“That’s it? You just sell baseball cards for a living?”

“No. Every lifetime is more expensive than the last, which is why you always need to build on the money you’ve put aside. Some Akhet skills can come in extraordinarily handy for that. Picking the best of the stock market, knowing which tech companies will probably thrive in the future.” Drew laughs. “It’s pretty simple, really. I have money. Companies need money in order to start up or expand. I give them what they need, and they give me a cut of the profits.” He shifts hard with his right hand. “Raising money is pretty simple once you get the hang of it. We all do it. I’d imagine even your Sekhem friends aren’t hurting for cash.”

I remember Griffon saying that money wasn’t a problem when he had the right-handed cello made for me. But he and Janine live in a pretty regular house, and he drives a motorcycle. Not a race car. Although Janine does seem to know a large number of powerful and wealthy people.

“They don’t live like this.”

“I’m sure they could if they wanted to.”

I look over at Drew, and he’s got a broad smile on his face.

“Why are you so happy?”

His smile is instantly replaced by a more serious face. “Sorry, I forgot. No fun around Cole.”

I frown. “That’s not true. I’m plenty fun.”

“We’ll see about that.” He reaches into a space behind my seat. “But I did get you a little something. Just for fun.”

“I don’t want anything else from you,” I say. I already feel a little guilty about the earrings I shoved back into his hands after he went to all the trouble of making them for me.

He holds a bag out to me. “Why not? I already said that money’s not an issue. It’s not a big deal.”

I take the bag and place it in my lap. Inside is a black dress and a shoebox. I lift out the dress and the box—I recognize the designer, because Kat is always going on about their stuff. Inside the shoebox is a pair of high-heeled black platform sandals with red soles. Everything is exactly my size. Suddenly, my face feels hot. I shove it all back in the bag and tuck it behind his seat. “I can’t take these.”

He looks defeated. “Why not? I just saw them and thought about how great they’d look on you.”

“I don’t want them.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says. “I just thought you’d like them.”

“I’m not something else for you to purchase,” I say, anger rising inside me. “I agreed to go with you one more time and that’s it. I’m just fulfilling my end of the bargain.”

He looks so hurt I almost feel like apologizing. “Honestly, I didn’t mean anything. You used to love it when I got you things before. I just thought you still would feel that way.”

“Well, I don’t,” I say. “I’m not Allison anymore.”

He parks the car near a row of warehouses by the piers and turns his steady gaze on me. “Trust me, I know that.”

Drew grabs my hand as he helps me out of the low-slung sports car, but I pull it away and manage to climb out myself. Drew glances back at me, but doesn’t reach for my hand again.

I look around at the alleys full of trash bins and burned-out streetlights as we approach a plain gray door. “Where are we?”

“San Francisco.”

“Funny.” I glance at the nondescript brick building with the rickety-looking fire escape climbing up the side. There’s no sign out front or over the door. I hear sirens in the distance, but other than that, it’s disturbingly quiet out here. I feel for the phone in my pocket. Just in case. “I mean, what is this place?”

“It’s a club,” he says, ringing a bell that’s almost hidden on the right side of the door frame.

“What kind of a club?”

The door opens and we’re ushered into a dark hallway by a man in a suit. “A private club,” he answers.

“Good to see you again Mr. Braithwaite,” the man at the door says.

“Thanks, Max,” Drew says. “Anyone special in tonight?”

“The usual suspects,” he says. He looks at me, but I don’t feel anything menacing in his eyes. “I see you’ve brought us someone new.”

“This is Cole,” Drew says. “She is new. I’m showing her around.”

The man looks approving. “Shewi?”

Drew nods. “Just a few months.”

The man looks surprised, but doesn’t say anything more. Drew smiles at him. “Max likes to call himself an ordinary doorman, but he’s really the master of ceremonies at this place. Nothing happens here that he doesn’t know about. Or approve of.”

Max gives a little bow in my direction. “And your friend here is prone to exaggeration. But welcome to our little home away from home. Enjoy.”

I can hear faint music playing and murmuring voices as we walk down a dimly lit hallway. Drew slows his pace and turns to me. “Sorry about that. Most of the people here are Iawi. Some of them remember lifetimes that stretch back to the beginning of memory. That’s why Max was so surprised that you’re Shewi and so new. Stick with me and you’ll be fine.”

“Wait. This club is for Akhet?”

He nods. “It’s a private club, like I said. There are many places like it all over the world where people like us can come and talk freely, to meet up with people and not have to worry that what we say will be overheard by those who don’t understand. You’d be surprised at the people you can meet in a place like this.”

I remember what Janine and Sue said the other day. “I thought most Khered were more like me. You know, not Iawi.”

Drew’s brows crease. “Who told you that?” He pauses and shakes his head. “Never mind. Most Sekhem like to think that you have to be stupid to adopt Khered philosophies. Total propaganda.”

A pretty brunette passes us on the way to the door. “Have you brought Francesca here?” I ask.

“No.” His eyes shift away from me. “I can’t. It’s one of the things that makes it hard.” He starts moving again. “I really don’t want to talk about her right now.”

Every time Francesca’s name is mentioned, Drew seems to get annoyed. I wonder what he told her about where he is tonight. I’m guessing it wasn’t the truth.

At the end of the hallway is a lounge area with a well-stocked bar at the far end. There are groups of people sitting in overstuffed chairs around small round tables and others relaxing in booths that line one wall. I can see other rooms through doorways in both walls and wonder how big this place really is. Several people look up and wave at Drew, and I’m surprised at the mix of people in this place—they seem to range in age from early teens to old enough to be my grandparents. I wonder vaguely if I’ve ever known any of them, if we’ve ever been connected in the past.

“Hey, old man! Good to see you.” A guy in his late thirties throws his arm around Drew’s shoulders.

Drew quickly hugs him back. “Robert! Mate, where have you been? It’s been at least a year.”

“Italy, mostly. We got a new villa on the Amalfi coast. You have to come by—Abby and the kids would love to see you again.”

As he’s speaking, I recognize him from the trailers that have been in all the theaters for the past month. The movie he’s in with his wife Abby is supposed to be the big summer blockbuster. He’s a lot shorter in real life.

“Maybe later this summer,” Drew tells him. He smiles at me. “Ever been to Italy?”

I shake my head, not wanting to admit that I’m a little star-struck and afraid of saying something stupid in front of an actual superstar.

“Well, that will have to change,” Robert says. He places his hand on my arm, and I know he’s looking for any vibrations that might connect us. The thought that someone so world-famous is touching me completely blows what’s left of my concentration. He squeezes my hand quickly, seemingly satisfied with whatever information he got from me. “Any friend of Drew’s is more than welcome.”