20
Maggie slowed and pulled to the curb outside my apartment. She stared at my front stairway. "Who’s that guy, Julia?" I followed her gaze.
"Ah, it’s Rupert, from the Mystic Eye." Rupert’s large frame took up almost the width of the staircase. He held some papers in his hand, papers he stared at intently.
"What’s he doing here?"
"Waiting for me, it looks like."
"Really? What does he want?"
I sighed, "I have a feeling I already know."
"He’s kind of scary looking. Want me to come upstairs with you?"
I shook my head, "No, it’s fine. Rupert’s great. He’s a friend. No worries. He’s having a . . . uh . . . romantic dilemma."
Maggie’s eyebrows shot up. "Really? Okay, I’ll leave you to it then."
I climbed out of the car and waved to Rupert. "Hi. How are you?"
Rupert stood, "Julia, I do
