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  My steps grew slower, heavier as I headed for my destination, but I pushed on until I reached a white marble tombstone.

  The words TRAVIS TEMPLETON TEAGUE. BELOVED BY ALL flowed across the marker. A few wilted flowers and cracked, faded, weather-worn action figures surrounded the gravesite. People didn’t leave as many flowers and cards as they used to. Superheroes and ubervillains came and went in Bigtime, and most folks were slowly forgetting about Travis aka Tornado.

  Not me. I would never forget him. Never. I crouched down, straightening the action figures and arranging the flowers into a tidy pile. I did that for a long time, thinking about him and how much love there had been between us.

  My heart ached, and hot tears steamed off my flushed cheeks.

  Travis had been taken from me before his time. It was cruel, unfair, and there was nothing I could do about it. But he was in a better place now, watching over me. I knew he was. I twisted my engagement ring around my finger. I would give anything for Travis to be here with me now. But that would never happen.

  It was time to move on. To date again. To laugh again. To fall in love again. My father was right. I couldn’t live in the past forever, and Travis wouldn’t want me to. He would want me to be happy, to be with someone who made me happy, whether it was Johnny Bulluci or someone else further down the line. I quit twisting my ring and stood.

  “I love you, Travis. I always will.” I pressed a kiss to my hand and put it on top of the tombstone. The sun-warmed marble felt smooth as glass under my fingers.

  Then, I turned and walked away.

  10

  After leaving the cemetery, I slipped back into my apartment, stripped off my superhero suit, and got ready for the observatory benefit.

  I took extra care with my I-might-have-sex-tonight beauty rituals. Daydreaming about Johnny had fired up my hormones even more than usual. I liked him. He liked me.

  Why shouldn’t we have a little fun after the party tonight?

  Then, it was time to pick my dress for the evening. I hadn’t seen Johnny in a few days, and I wanted to remind him just how fabulous I was. I walked up and down the rows of clothes in my massive closet, pulling things out, tossing them aside, grabbing even more outfits. After about thirty minutes of contemplation, I decided on a jade green ball gown with a high neck, long sleeves, and a skirt that reached to my ankles.

  From a distance the dress looked very prim and proper, but the back was completely exposed, showing off my shoulders and muscles, while the sequined fabric clung to my body, hinting at what lay beneath. I pulled my hair back into a smooth, coiled bun. Strappy silver stilettos and long, dangly emerald earrings completed the sophisticated look.

  Perfect.

  I eyeballed my purse. Something was missing from the mess inside. Lipstick, compact, cell phone, credit cards. I remembered what I’d forgotten. I rummaged around in my nightstand drawer and drew out a couple of dust-covered condoms. I stared at the foil packages, and the old, nagging doubt flared up inside me.

  Despite my visit to the cemetery, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that I was betraying Travis by moving on. But Travis would want me to be happy. He would. And Johnny made me happy. For the moment. He might turn out to be a loathsome little toad tomorrow, but tonight, he was Mr.

  Right.

  I damped down the guilt and stuffed the condoms in my purse. If you were going to play around, you should be safe doing it. I was already on the pill, but a girl couldn’t be too careful, even if she was a superhero. Better to have the condoms and chicken out, than push ahead without them.

  I drove my convertible to the benefit, top up to preserve my hair, handed the keys to a tuxedo-clad valet, and walked up the curving steps to the observatory. Situated on a towering hill on the outskirts of town, the Bigtime Observatory was the highest point in the city, farther up than even the gleaming skyscrapers downtown. A museum to all things star-related sat on top of the hill, along with the round white dome that housed the observatory’s powerful telescope and other sensitive scientific equipment. The observatory was also connected to a nature center and park, where people could come and get up close and personal with smaller woodsy animals like owls, otters, and foxes. A manmade river flowed down the steep hill, through the woods and animal habitats that surrounded the observatory, forming a waterfall and small lake, before continuing its journey toward the city and out into Bigtime Bay.

  Every spring, the scientists who ran the observatory and nature center put away their pocket protectors, telescopes, and black glasses, and threw a party to raise enough money to keep operating for another year. In addition to scientific research, the observatory was a favorite with Bigtime teachers, who brought thousands of students to the facility every year to stargaze, visit the animals, and swim in the lake. Science wasn’t my favorite thing, not by a long shot, but my pockets were deep enough to get me invited to the party every year.

  I gave my engraved invitation to the guy working the door and stepped inside. The observatory featured square white rooms, sharp angles, and high vaulted ceilings. Scientific instruments with names too long to pronounce, detailed star charts, and planetary images adorned the walls, along with interactive displays about physics and astronauts and trips to the moon. The displays had already captivated some of Bigtime’s finest, who were pushing buttons and staring at the flashing lights like kids high on sugar.

  I walked to the museum’s main auditorium, where most of the school programs were held. The semicircle of hard wooden chairs had been replaced with circular tables, and big models of planets dangled from the ceiling. A band played swing tunes on the stage at the far end of the room, while waiters dispensed food to the hungry crowd. Through it all, the observatory’s scientists tried to blend in with the suave, sophisticated businessmen and women. But it was easy to tell who was who. The scientists kept tugging on their too-tight ties and ill-fitting dresses.

  I grabbed a glass of champagne and roamed through the crowd looking for Johnny Bulluci. All the usual partygoers were in attendance, with Joanne James and Berkley Brighton holding court in the middle of the auditorium. The sparkle from Joanne’s engagement ring would blind a bat at thirty paces. My father stood near them, schmoozing with a couple of lonely widows. I caught his eye and waved.

  To my surprise and displeasure, news reporter Erica Songe was also on the scene. She stood at the far end of the room next to a short, slender woman. The contrast between the two was striking. Erica’s voluptuous form was poured into a pink dress that looked like transparent pieces of tissue sewn together. The flimsy garment exposed far more than it covered up, and more than a few men had their eyes firmly fixed on Erica’s cleavage. How trashy.

  The other woman wore a black, kimono-style garment that covered her from neck to feet. The bulky fabric swallowed her up, hiding any hints about her figure. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and a scowl painted her pasty face. Tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose, which was set rather high in the air. She might as well have had NERDY SCIENTIST tattooed on her chest. A tall, fat cameraman hovered nearby, downing champagne like he was dying of thirst. I didn’t blame him. I’d drink too if I had to work with the likes of Erica Songe.

  A familiar motorized whir caught my ear, and I zeroed in on Henry and Lulu. Henry had traded in his usual polkadot bow ties for one of my classy tuxedoes, while Lulu wore a scarlet dress that showed off her pale skin and blue and black hair. The two huddled in a corner by themselves, engaged in an intense conversation. Henry held on to to Lulu’s hand and said something, almost pleading with her. Lulu shook her head. Henry dropped her hand, turned on his heel, and stalked away. Lulu stared at his retreating back.

  What was that about?

  Determined to find out, I marched over to the other woman. “Trouble in paradise?”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Fiona?” Lulu looked away, but not before I caught the gleam of tears in her dark eyes. “For Henry to dump me.”

  The hurt t
one in Lulu’s voice made me hesitate. I didn’t like the computer hacker. I’d made no secret of that. We’d come too close to getting killed last year to take any more chances than necessary. Letting Lulu Lo, one of Bigtime’s computer geniuses and not-quite-aboveboard citizens, in on our secret identities wasn’t the smartest thing we’d ever done.

  But Carmen trusted her, and Henry loved her. And Lulu loved Henry, from what I’d seen. I loved Henry too, and I wanted him to be happy. If Lulu made him happy, well, I supposed I could live with her. After all, I’d come to live with Carmen. So, I decided to put my personal feelings aside and do my duty to support Henry—and his hacker honey.

  “No, I don’t want Henry to dump you.”

  Lulu snorted. “Oh, come off it, Fiona. You can’t stand me.”

  I ignored her comment. “Why would Henry dump you? Are the two of you fighting? The two of you never fight.” In addition to having superstrength, I was also supertenacious, especially when it came to the people I cared about.

  “It’s nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Lulu muttered. She hit a button on her wheelchair and zoomed away.

  I started to melt her tires to get her to stop, when a low voice sounded behind me.

  “Hello, beautiful.”

  My heart fluttered. I put my most dazzling smile on my face and turned around. Johnny Bulluci stood behind me, wearing a perfectly fitted tuxedo that showed off his golden hair and bronze skin. My eyes zipped up and down him. The man looked yummy enough to eat. And I was always hungry.

  For all sorts of things.

  Johnny leaned in and planted a kiss on my cheek. His lips felt warm even against my flushed skin. I closed my eyes, drinking in his spicy aroma.

  “Hello yourself, handsome.”

  Johnny’s eyes raked over me in a slow fashion. He let out a low whistle. “Nice dress.”

  I smoothed down the slinky fabric. “I thought you might like it.”

  “I do. A lot.” He gave me a wolfish grin and took my hand. “Come on, I want you to meet my grandfather.”

  Johnny led me through the chattering crowd. More than a few eyebrows rose when we passed, and hushed whispers broke out in our wake. Gossiping about everyone and everything was one of the main activities in Bigtime society. Actually, in Bigtime in general. Tomorrow, we’d be the talk among the city’s matrons, more than a few of whom’d probably like to foist their daughters off on Johnny. Too bad. The man was mine. At least for tonight. I tightened my grip on his hand. And I was planning on keeping him all to myself.

  Johnny strolled over to a table set against the wall, where Bella sat with their grandfather. Tonight, Bella wore a simple peach-colored satin sheath dress that brought out her tan skin. Pearl combs glinted in her amber-colored hair, while her usual silver angel charm hung around her throat.

  The two of them rose at our approach.

  “Fiona.”

  “Bella.”

  “Nice dress,” we said in unison.

  We looked at each other, not sure if we were being catty or not. A slow smile spread across Bella’s face. I grinned in return, and we laughed.

  Johnny drew me forward. “Grandfather, this is Fiona Fine. Fiona, this is my grandfather, Roberto.”

  “I’ve long been a fan of your work, Miss Fine.” Roberto Bulluci’s voice was just as rich and cultured as Johnny’s, except his accent was far more pronounced. He bowed low, pressed a kiss to my hand, and gave me a sly wink that would have been right at home on a much younger man. “And please call me Bobby. All my friends do.”

  I laughed. “Well, I see where Johnny gets his charm from.”

  “Johnny has told us quite a bit about you, including your fondness for steak. You must come have dinner with us one evening, Miss Fine,” Bobby said. “Perhaps Bella will let me have some red meat and wine if you do.”

  Bella’s lips pursed as though she’d bitten into a lemon.

  “Grandfather, you know the doctor said you shouldn’t eat—”

  Bobby Bulluci waved his hand. A silver ring set with diamonds sparkled on his pinkie. “Bah! I’m seventy-two years old, Bella. If I want to eat steak and drink fine wine in my golden years, then I should be able to—no matter what any doctor says. They’re all fools anyway.”

  Bella put her hands on her hips. “Not if you want to live to see seventy-three.”

  Bobby eyed his no-nonsense granddaughter. “Just like your father, you are. Everything must always be by the book.”

  His tone was light and teasing.

  “Well, perhaps if he were here, I’d have an easier time keeping you in line and out of trouble,” Bella said.

  Her words hit a little too close to home. A cold shadow fell over the three of them at the mention of James Bulluci.

  Johnny’s hand tightened around mine.

  “Let’s get some champagne,” I said, trying to lighten the darkening mood.

  It worked. Just like always. A waiter came around, and we grabbed tall flutes filled with bubbling golden liquid. I kept up a steady stream of chatter, and slowly but surely, the darkness faded away and the ice broke. Then again, it usually did when I was around.

  Bella and I talked about our fall lines. I was going for a hip, yet preppy look. Lots of bright, multicolored plaid.

  Lots of blazers. Lots of chunky jewelry. Bella, meanwhile, had chosen to focus on every Bigtime woman’s favorite color—black. How boring. I was sure her clothes would be exquisitely made and very beautiful, but the girl really needed to mix it up a bit. She needed some color in her life—in more ways than one.

  After we exhausted the world of fashion, Bella drifted off to speak to one of the society types about her latest dress, leaving me alone with the men. After a couple of false starts, the boys and I found a topic we could talk about—soccer.

  “Soccer is the true football,” I said. “Americans really don’t know what they’re missing. Anybody can kick a ball with his foot. Bouncing it off his head is what takes real talent.”

  Bobby’s green eyes lit up. “Ah! A woman after my own heart.”

  We chatted about various European leagues and teams and the latest scandals, and Johnny jumped in with his thoughts. After about half an hour of sports talk, Johnny took my arm again.

  “I’m sorry to leave you alone, but we really need to mingle for a while, Grandfather,” Johnny said. “I’m sure Fiona has some friends that she’d like to say hello to tonight.”

  “Of course, of course. Just as I have some lovely ladies that I would like to speak to as well.”

  Bobby winked and pointed at a group of older women standing by the bar. The spry septuagenarian strode off, his walk tall and strong. He strolled right into the midst of the women, and more than a few of the elderly ladies perked up at his presence.

  “Your grandfather is a real character,” I said. “Very charming, very lively.”

  Johnny smiled. “He’s always up to something. That’s why I love him.”

  We moved off into the crowd and made a circuit of the auditorium, speaking to people we knew, including Chief Newman. My father’s eyes grew dark and curious when I introduced him to Johnny.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Bulluci,” my father said, shaking Johnny’s hand.

  Johnny looked at me. “I hope it’s been good.”

  “So far. So far, my boy.”

  The two of them started talking about manly things, like cars and sports and fine cigars. Johnny turned out to be quite an expert on the last subject, giving my father tips about what cigars to buy and where to get them from.

  “I didn’t know you smoked,” I said.

  Johnny shrugged. “Occasionally. Not so much since I came back to Bigtime. Americans are very uptight about it, far more so than Europeans. It takes the fun out of it. Plus, Bella won’t let me smoke in the house. She’s a real stickler for things like that.”

  As the conversation progressed, my father kept lacing his fingers together and peering into Johnny’s eyes, as though deep in thought. His own
eyes seemed to be glowing ever so faintly. I frowned. Johnny moved off to speak to one of Bella’s friends, and I grabbed my father’s arm.

  “Stop that!” I hissed.

  “Stop what?”

  “Trying to read his mind.”

  “Would I do something like that?”

  My father smiled and tried to look innocent. Please. I didn’t have to be a psychic to know he was faking.

  “You’ve always done it, ever since I started dating boys in high school. Remember the guy who took me to the prom? I thought he was going to have a heart attack when you started asking him about the hotel room he’d booked for the two of us for after the dance.”

  My father chuckled at the memory. I rolled my eyes.

  “So what’s the verdict?” I asked.

  My father frowned. “I’ll get back to you on that.”

  Johnny returned before I could interrogate Chief Newman further about his cryptic comment. An anorexic widow dripping with jewels wiggled in between us and pulled my father onto the dance floor. Johnny and I made another lap around the room. It was close to midnight, and I was ready to move on to the next part of the evening—whatever it might entail.

  “Are you ready to blow this joint?” I asked.

  Johnny opened his mouth to reply, when a low sultry voice cut in.

  “Mr. Bulluci. Hello. So nice to see you again.” Erica Songe batted her long black lashes at Johnny. They were fake, just like her lips and boobs. “Oh, Fiona. I didn’t see you there.”

  “Erica,” I said through gritted teeth. Up close, the reporter’s filmy dress was practically transparent, giving everyone a view of all her charms, including Johnny. “That’s a nice little dress you’re wearing.”

  “Isn’t it just fabulous?”

  Erica put her hands on her curvy hips and preened. The woman actually thought I was being serious and giving her a genuine compliment. Please.