𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐄 || j. daniel atlas

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

Alena spent the entire flight to New Orleans trying to forget about what had happened in Vegas. And it wasn't even the FBI's visit that had shaken her the most.

When she had bought a ticket for the Four Horsemen's show, Alena hadn't thought that it would be so extravagant, the acts so spectacular. She had only thought of flaunting her success and perhaps getting the closure that had been snatched from her a year ago.

And in some ways, she had. With a sponsor like Arthur Tressler, Merritt would no longer be stuck in a dingy apartment, hustling innocent bystanders at whatever venue she could scrape up for him. She no longer blamed him for firing her. He had found himself a group of equally skilled magicians with a dynamic that really worked, an angle Alena had never thought to play, particularly after what happened with his brother.

She would never say it out loud – she struggled to accept it herself – but what bothered her most was that he didn't need her anymore. His world would keep on turning without her pen and planner. Any disasters could be averted without a call to her mobile.

And Alena didn't need him either. That was the blanket that she threw over all that had resurfaced over the last couple of days.

♤ ♡ ♧ ♢

Louis Armstrong New Orleans Airport heaved with the anticipation of the upcoming Mardi Gras celebration. Alena squeezed her way through the sea of bodies towards the bathrooms, glad that she had flown in the day before the parade.

The bathroom gave her some relief from the stifling heat, made worse by the crowds. Alena tucked her suitcase in by the sink and set her bag on the countertop. She turned on the cold tap, lathering her hands in soap, and flicking droplets of water from her fingertips onto her face.

"Hey," said a woman coming out of the cubicle behind her. "Alena."

Looking back as she went to grab some paper towels, Alena saw a familiar redhead leaning over the sink to wash her hands. "Henley Reeves."

"Are you coming to see the show tomorrow night?"

Alena's chest tightened. "No, I have a client in the Mardi Gras parade. I didn't even know you had a show out here."

"You should come along," Henley smiled.

"I don't have a ticket." Alena handed her some paper towels.

"Thanks." Henley dried her hands and then leaned closer to Alena, who had begun touching up her makeup in the mirror. "I can give the doorman your name and you can just walk right in. I'll make sure you get a seat near Arthur Tressler."

Alena scanned the other cubicles, three of them occupied. "I'd prefer it if we didn't speak, Miss Reeves."

"Please, call me Henley. And you don't need to worry about anything. We spoke to Mr Tressler and, if the FBI comes near you again, his lawyers are at your disposal." Henley rested a hand on Alena's arm and gently squeezed. "We know you weren't involved, and Merritt won't see anything bad happen to you."

Alena took a moment to consider, running a rose-pink lipstick over her bottom lip. Henley had no reason to lie to her and, after stealing her client, a lawyer was the least Tressler could do to repay her. "Very well."

"So, you'll come to the show?"

"Henley...whilst I do respect the dedication it takes to perfect an art like yours, and I appreciate that your acts can make some people happy, I don't believe in any of that magic stuff. Twisting reality to make people believe something is there when it's not, and then using it against them." Alena put away her lipstick, closed her bag, and made to leave.

"Please," Henley pleaded. "I don't know what you've been through, but I know what would mean a lot to Merritt if you were there."

Alena scoffed. "He said that?"

"Not in so many words. You know how he is; Mr Sensitive. He has mentioned you before, you know?"

"He has?"

"Not by name. But a few times, when he's been a little way past hammered, he's mentioned a girl that he left behind, someone who was always there for him, wondering how she was. We all thought it was an old girlfriend or ex-wife. You must be something special."

"I won't argue with that," Alena smirked at her own reflection. Her eyes flickering to meet Henley's, she gave a deep sigh. "If you can guarantee that I can shake my cute, little ass right under the FBI's noses and they won't lay a finger on me, then...I'll see what I can do."

"Great! Make sure you come see us at the interval." Henley grinned so genuinely that Alena couldn't feel any bitterness towards her, even managing a small smile in return.

Before she opened the bathroom door, Alena turned back to Henley, though struggled a moment with her word. "I'm...glad that Mr McKinney is with someone who cares for him," she said. Even if it wasn't true, it would at least make Henley feel guilty if she didn't. Then, with a finger raised in threat, "but don't tell him I said that."

"My lips are sealed." Henley gestured zipping up her mouth and locking it. "Don't you go disappearing again. That's my job."

Alena only gave her a quietly disapproving look before stepping out of the bathroom. It seemed that the world of smoke and mirrors hadn't finished with her just yet.