Airhead

… and was shocked to see Gabriel Luna instead.

‘You!’ I cried.

He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

‘Are you stalking me?’ he asked in that adorable British accent. But he was smiling, so I knew he was joking.

‘I think you’re stalking me,’ I said. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I live just up the street,’ he said. ‘I’d ask what you were doing here, but it’s obvious.’ Always the gentleman, he took hold of the enormous boxes I was carrying. ‘Here, allow me. Are you trying to find a taxi again? You’ll never get one at this corner, you know.’

‘No, I have a ride,’ I said. ‘He’s just circling. But thank you.’

‘Oh,’ Gabriel said. ‘So you’ve recovered from last night?’

Remembering in a rush the last time I’d seen him, I said, sticking out my chin, ‘That was… I wasn’t even… Gabriel, I don’t even drink. Seriously, you can ask any of the bartenders. Next time you go to Cave, have them pour you a Nikki.’

He blinked at me. ‘A what?’

A Nikki. It’s just water. ‘And I was only trying to get Brandon out of there. I mean, Brandon’s just — we’re friends.’

‘Oh.’ Gabriel stared down at me. He looked confused. ‘I see.’

‘I’m not who you think I am, Gabriel,’ I said. I could see the headlights of the limo sliding towards us. It was stuck behind a traffic light, but coming inexorably towards us. Still, there was something I needed to get off my chest. ‘My idea of a fun night is playing computer games. I didn’t even want to go out last night. I just did it because Lulu threw a surprise welcome-home party for me and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings because she’s been really sweet to me. I’m going to go home tonight and do homework. That’s my wild, crazy life. Really.’

‘Look,’ Gabriel said, his expression unreadable. ‘Don’t be angry. I know I come off as a bit of a prat sometimes. It’s just… well, it’s like those girls we ran into the other day. The ones who were chasing us. They look up to you. I worry you don’t realize that.’

‘Well, I do,’ I said. Was that traffic light ever going to turn green? Then I shot him a suspicious look. ‘Wait a minute. What were you doing at that club at two in the morning anyway?’

‘Oh,’ Gabriel said, looking embarrassed suddenly. ‘I was giving the DJ a copy of a new song I wrote the other day. To see if he thought it would work as a dance mix.’

‘Oh,’ I said, smiling. ‘And? Did he like it?’

It was hard to tell in the glow from the windows of the computer store. But I think Gabriel was actually blushing a little. ‘He loved it actually. He played it on the spot. It brought the place down. Everyone adored it.’

The limo finally pulled up in front of me and the driver sprang out from behind the wheel.

‘I’m so sorry, Miss Howard,’ he said. ‘I got caught behind one of those tour buses… ’

‘That’s OK,’ I said. ‘Could you take this?’ I took the huge boxes from Gabriel and handed them to the driver, who hurried to put them in the boot. Then I turned back to Gabriel and said, ‘Well, here’s my car.’

‘I can see that,’ Gabriel said, taking in the long black limousine with raised eyebrows. It had attracted the attention of quite a few people on the sidewalk as well, many of whom had stopped to stare at it, and me too.

‘I owe you a ride,’ I reminded Gabriel. ‘So if there’s anywhere you need to go… ’

‘Not tonight,’ Gabriel said with a fu

He could not have shocked me more when he leaned over and kissed me — on the lips, but lightly, barely brushing my mouth with his — and whispered, standing just inches from me, ‘Don’t you want to know the name of my new song?’

‘The name of your new song?’ I stared up at him, my mouth still tingling from the fleeting kiss. Even though he wasn’t touching me, it was as if I was bolted into place.

‘Right,’ he said. ‘It’s called “Nikki”.’

And then he was gone, disappearing into the hordes of people who’d gathered on the sidewalk to stare at me and my limo.

Twenty-three

Dragging myself and my boxes from the limo when it finally pulled up in front of my building, I took the elevator up to the loft, expecting to find it empty, since it was after nine at night. I thought surely Lulu would be out on the town, doing whatever it was Lulu did when she was left unsupervised.

So you can imagine my surprise when I stepped from the elevator and heard her call my name.

‘Nikki!’ cried a voice from a ghostly figure stretched out across a massage table in the middle of the loft’s living room. Lulu was — mostly — under a white sheet, while a stern looking woman in a white uniform kneaded her shoulders.

‘Uh,’ I said, even more confused than usual. ‘Hi?’

‘Hi,’ Lulu said, popping her head up from the hole in the centre of the massage table. ‘Oh yeah. I forgot. Nikki, this is our housekeeper, Katerina. Katerina, this isn’t Nikki. I know it looks like her, but it’s not. She had a spirit transfer, and now she’s someone else. But you can still call her Nikki.’

Katerina stopped kneading Lulu’s shoulders and stared at me. ‘You say this is not Miss Nikki?’ she demanded in a heavy Eastern European accent.

‘No,’ Lulu said. ‘Well, I mean, it is. But it isn’t.’

‘Yes it is, Lulu,’ I said, frustrated. ‘It’s still me. I just don’t remember anyone. Because I have amnesia, remember? Hi, Katerina.’

Katerina stared at me for a little bit longer. Then she shrugged and went back to massaging Lulu. ‘You girls,’ she said. Only it came out sounding like ‘gels’. ‘I give up with you and your silly games a long time ago.’

‘I know it was your turn to get massaged by Katerina, Nik,’ Lulu went on, plopping her face back down into the hole in the centre of the massage table. ‘But I just got back from a meeting with my record label, and it was such hell. They say I have to sing these two reject songs from Lindsay Lohan’s album — as if — and I was still such a wreck from last night, I must have had fifteen mojitos and a pack of Milk Duds, and I knew only Katerina could whip me back into shape. And, oh my God, Nik, Brandon has been calling, like, all day. He says your cell’s not on, and all his messages have been going to voicemail. What’s up with that? Like, turn your cell on. Also, he is, like, totally sorry about last night. He’s been talking about getting his dad’s jet for this weekend and taking us to Antigua, and you know he only does that when he’s suffering a major guilt trip. Just FYI. Oh, and I had to lock Cosy up, she was jumping all over me, I couldn’t take it, she’s in my room, she’s been such a nightmare —’

I put down the boxes and crossed the loft to Lulu’s bedroom door, which I swung open. Cosabella careened out of it like a shot, leaping against my shins and yapping happily, her tongue lolling. I scooped her up and went to sit down on the couch with her cradled in my arms while she lapped at my face.

‘She’s already had her walk.’ Lulu popped her head up to look at me again. ‘Karl took her. And I fed her. Oh my God, what is on your face?’

I blinked at her above Cosy’s fluffy head. ‘Where?’

Next thing I knew, Lulu had swung down off the massage table and, still clutching the sheet around her, marched up to me, reached across and scraped a fingernail across my cheek.

‘Ow!’ I cried, leaning away from this five-foot lunatic.

Lulu looked down at her fingernail and said, ‘I knew it. It’s a dead skin flake. Your skin is dry. What have you been using on it?’

‘Look,’ I said, still clutching my cheek. ‘I appreciate your help, looking after Cosy while I was in school and at the shoot and all. But you can’t just go around SCRATCHING people—’

‘What. Have. You. Been. Using. On. It?’ Lulu demanded, shoving her finger in my face to show me the dead skin flake.

‘God,’ I said. ‘Soap. What else?’