Page 148 of Without a Clue

“Gordon used it two years ago. Jackie, of course, will cling to her one wish until she dies.”

“Did Crystal use hers up?”

“Quite literally forty-three minutes after she pledged to our group. Used it to rent out the Eiffel Tower—”

“You can’t rent out the Eiffel Tower.”

“They say you can’t rent out the Eiffel Tower,” he corrects.

He waves a hand at the six before him. “And I used it here to make sure everybody played the right cards in my little game. Jackie, as you saw, had the clearest, most negative reaction to this ask.”

My brows shoot up. It’s all clicking together. “You told her she had to play along in that room that day,” I say. “The room where I ran into her and she had that knife. I knew she was livid about something.”

“That something was me, behind the curtains, who had just given her the fright of her life.”

We’re standing now next to the table of authors. Everyone is here now.

“So you told her she had to act like her motivation for murdering you would be that she employed a ghostwriter and you found out?”

“She was incensed, as you could tell.”

“It was the worst moment of my life,” Jackie interrupts, fanning herself. “To even think I would stoop so low—”

“I liked my character,” Crystal interjects cheerily.

She swings on the seat of her barstool beside the table, legs crisscrossed. “I liked playing the angry, hidden daughter. Sorry, Pips, for getting all ‘I’m going to murder you too’ on you. No offense meant.”

“None taken,” I say. Although, in reality, she was a little too convincing. “And you two,” I say, pointing at Neena and Gordon. “This is . . . real.”

“What can I say? I love a man in a good hat.” She looks fondly at Gordon.

“And you?” I say, turning back to Hugh. “You decided, in all these years of having this big, grand genie wish, to use it on me. You could’ve asked for anything. Why ask for something for me?”

And at this, he grins.

Pats me on the shoulder.

“Because if you haven’t realized by now, Pip, we all love you. You have indeed been one of us for a long time. And a friend is born to love in times of adversity. We saw your adversity, and I decided it was time we gave you the push you needed. Plus, there’s the small fact I have chosen you and you weren’t jumping along quite as quickly as I wanted.”

I raise my brow. “What?”

Hugh puts his hand out. “I’ve put a lot of thought into it over the past five years. And after careful consideration, given all the candidates, I could think of no better successor to my place . . . than you.”

My eyes swivel to the rest of the group. “Wait. What—?”

Hugh claps me on the back. “I’m retiring, Pip. I’m ready to go on some new adventures. And I want you to take my place. My whole goal here was to help you realize you already have everything it takes to be a writer.”

“And you gave me a story.”

“The first story,” Hugh clarifies. “I gave you a first. But I know it’ll be no time before you have this first book written and come up with the next.”

My breath is coming short now.

It’s quite possible I’m going to pass out. “But . . . but what about all your friends?”

“I choose you.”

“All those other authors. There are so many.”