If Christoph were here, if Christoph had programmed that safe, there was only one four-digit code he would have used. It was the code on his ATM card, and his garage.
It was a date of supreme significance to Christoph. November 20, the day he emancipated himself from slavery. The day he killed Helga and declared his own independence.
Squatting down in front of the safe, I punched in the numbers. Star, 11, 20, pound.
Nothing happened.
It was both a disappointment and a relief. All this nonsense about Max being Christoph was in my mind. I was just confused. Who wouldn’t be? The Kindle had messed me up. I was mixing up story with reality. Yeah, that was it. A few more days out here in the real world and I’d get things straight. I needed to forget about Christoph. I needed to forget what I had seen, what we had done, and who he…
“Who he was,” I said, a wave of panic coming over me.
I had the date right, but the format wrong. Max was in Hungary when he killed Helga. In Hungary they kept track of the dates in a different format. Day first; month second.
I reached back for the safe. Taking a deep breath, I punched in Star, 20, 11, pound.
Gears whirred, a lock disengaged, and the safe popped open.
My Kindle was inside.
Chapter 20
I set my Kindle on the desk and looked at it for a long time before I did anything. I left it there while I went to the bathroom, half expecting it to disappear while I was gone. It didn’t go anywhere.
I inspected it from all angles. The nick on the lower left of the screen, a scar from when I dropped it at the airport. The smoothness of the plastic backing where my fingertips had spent many hundreds of hours holding on. The blue holly sticker on the back.
Why was it here? Why had Vivian sent me a message that she’d destroyed it when clearly it was fine?
Why was Max keeping it a secret from me?
I went out to the bedroom to check on Max. He was on his back. His breathing was deep and regular. He wasn’t waking up anytime soon.
I went back into the office and closed the door. I sat at the desk and looked at the Kindle.
I swear it was looking back.
Telling myself it was the only way, that somehow I would find the answers in there, I pressed the button on the bottom of the Kindle. My heart leapt in my chest when I hit the switch. I looked around, making sure that neither Max nor Christoph nor Taylor Lautner was in the room with me. Satisfied that I was alone, I swiped the yellow bar across the screen.
It went straight to His Golden Shackles. I didn’t allow myself to read a single word of text, and instead focused my eyes on the progress bar at the bottom of the screen. I pressed my finger to it and dragged the story back to its beginning.
I took a deep breath and read the first line of the story.
Still unhappy with my bangs, I gaze at my reflection in the window, and furrow my brow in frustration…
That’s all it took. I was back in the familiar world of His Golden Shackles. I was Annabelle Stone.
The face looking back at me was beautiful. It’s one I loved to be. I identified so completely with it before. What a joy it was to look at my reflection and see the most beautiful young twenty-something you could imagine looking back. Innocent, lost, naïve…
“Vivian?” I whispered. “Are you in there?”
I was in uncharted territory. If Vivian had been in this character, and I came in on top of her, would we both be in there at once? Would we be sharing a body like Steve Martin and Lilly Tomlin in All of Me?
“Vivian,” I whispered again, looking right into the eyes of my own reflection. “It’s me, Holly.”
I sensed people nearby looking at me, but only vaguely. Without doubt, they’d all seen their share of strange folks on the subway.
Come to think of it, there were an awful lot of strange folks on the subway this morning. There was a man wearing a suit straight from the 1920s, complete with a black derby on his head. There was a woman with bright pink hair dressed in a blue rubber suit. Further down, in the next car, there was a man dressed up like a knight of the round table. And next to him was a midget dressed up just like a hobbit.
Dismissing all of this as New York City, or better, New York City as it existed in the imagination of LA Jones, I turned back to my own reflection, and looked again to see if it was just Annabelle in there, or someone else.
No signs of Vivian in here. No voices speaking to my mind, fighting for control of my body. Just the familiar pull of Annabelle’s character on me. It would have been so easy, so fun, to become her one more time, to turn my back on all the chaos of the real world and live in here again. Maybe for just a minute. Could I do it for—
No. I am not Annabelle Stone. This isn’t real. None of this is real.
Breaking character, I looked away from my reflection in the window and stepped to the back of the subway car. According to the story, I was supposed to slide out of a shoe getting off the crowded subway, wait for a bus that never arrives, and run through the heart of Manhattan to arrive at work a few minutes late.
The subway rolled to a halt at my stop. It was time to change this story. It was time to take charge of this character. I was Holly Pritchett, not Annabelle Stone.
Rather than pushing for the door like a hundred other people, I held back. There was a twinge of guilt and confusion in my mind—it was Annabelle, wondering what the hell I was doing. I pushed those thoughts away and stood in place. Everyone got out, my shoe stayed on, the doors closed, and I rode the subway to the next stop, where I was able to exit without any drama in the slightest. The subway, the bus, the crowds—I skipped them all, and caught a cab outside the train station.
I may or may not have seen Aslan the lion in the rearview mirror of the cab when we turned on 6th Street.
I arrived at Greenworld Enterprises five minutes early.
“Hello. My name is Annabelle Pritchett,” I said to the receptionist.
“Good morning,” she said, a completely different person than the bitch I was meant to meet twenty minutes later. “May I ask you to take a seat for a moment? Things are a little bit--”
“Crazy, I know,” I said. “You’re short-handed, I bet, what with it being flu season. A lot of people out today, huh?”
She smiled at me. “Yes, that’s exactly what’s happening.”
“I can pitch in wherever you need me,” I said. “I’m particularly good at minute taking, say, if somebody needed to take notes for one of your executives.”
A minute later, Carol, the friendly receptionist, was leading me down the hall to Christoph’s office. I was going to be the minute taker for Christoph’s conference call, just as is written in the book. But I was not going to play by the rules. I was going to tell Christoph who I was and why I was here. I was going to ask him straight up if he knew about Vivian.
The receptionist opened the door and led me inside.
“Mr. Green,” she said. “This is Annabelle Stone from the temp agency.”
Christoph looked at me, and right away I knew something was off. The sexual energy that Annabelle was supposed to feel, the sense that they were making a magical connection with their eyes, was absent.
“Hello Ms. Stone. Please come in,” he said.
His voice was pleasant, maybe even apologetic. It wasn’t….
“It’s not you,” I said.
“Not me?”
“You’re not Christoph Green. At least, not the Christoph Green I expected to meet.”
He looked at me for a moment, puzzled, then let out a heavy sigh and collapsed into his chair.
“No, I’m not,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Maybe this is how it’s supposed to go. Maybe you’re supposed to see right through me.”
“What?” I said.
“Never mind,” said Christoph. “Let’s just start this conference call.”
“No, wait. You agreed with me. I said you’re not Christoph Green and you agreed with me.�
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“I don’t want to talk about it. Maybe you should just go.”
“I’m not Annabelle Stone either,” I said.
Now I had his interest. He sat up straight and leaned over the desk, looking at me more intently this time.
Funny. With that look, I started to feel a little something. It was Annabelle’s signature ‘tickle at the top of the throat,’ but it was different somehow.
“If you’re not Annabelle Stone, then who are you?”
“My name is Holly Pritchett,” I said.
His eyes opened wide and he jumped from his chair.
“Holly! Oh no, how’d you get in here?”
“You know who I am? Are you….”
I looked at Christoph and thought about all the many people who might actually be inside.
“Vivian?” I said to him. “Is that you?”
“No, I’m not Vivian! She just got out! We both have been trapped. Holly, it’s me. It’s Max!”
Chapter 21
I wanted to rewind the Kindle and start all over again. I wanted to go through this scene once more and have it turn out differently.
This man in the office in front of me, this man who looked and sounded like Christoph, but wasn’t Christoph—this man was my worst fear come true. From the moment I found the Kindle in the hotel safe, a part of me knew this was what I would find inside. I just didn’t want to believe it was true.
“How did you get here, Max?”
“I don’t know,” he said. Even though his voice was deep and resonant like Christoph Green, all I heard was Max. The real Max. Not the phony version who was sleeping in a hotel bed twenty feet away from me.
Not the man who pulled me from the rapids and kissed me and took me to the Finals and made crazy, passionate love to me—that man wasn’t Max. A part of me had known it all along but refused to admit it.
Max wasn’t the smooth customer who always knew what he wanted. Max wasn’t the charmer who could convince a girl from his past to drop everything and be with him.
The Max I remembered from high school was shy, goofy, and endearing. Funny how those traits shone right through as he stood in front of me. He may have been in Christoph’s body, but this was Max Brody, through and through.
“Vivian came home one night with a Kindle,” Max continued. “She was reading it in bed. I fell asleep next to her, and then I woke up later in the night because she was still reading it. It was so weird, Holly. It was like she was frozen in place. I tried talking to her and she wouldn’t look at me. She just kept on reading. There was no distracting her from the Kindle. I couldn’t imagine what was so interesting that she couldn’t even turn away.”
“So then you decided to start reading too,” I said.
“Yes, I started reading too,” said Max. “I wish I hadn’t. I read just a few sentences, then…”
“Then you became Christoph Green,” I finished.
“Yes. At first it was kind of thrilling. I have this beautiful new body. Apparently I’m super rich too.”
“A billionaire,” I said.
“A billionaire? Man, it’s too bad I don’t have any time to spend the money.”
“You don’t have time? What do you mean?”
“Holly, time isn’t normal here. It goes on for three and a half months, then it starts over again.”
“Really?” This was news to me.
“Yes, I’m thinking I’m trapped in some sort of Groundhog Day where I’m supposed to live this guy’s life the perfect way and then I get out, or maybe, then time can continue. I don’t know. I’m playing it by ear. And I have no idea what the perfect life is. I’m guessing it has something to do with you, or at least, with this girl you’re playing. I don’t know. Vivian was able to get out. I must be doing something wrong.”
Three and a half months was the timeframe from beginning to end of His Golden Shackles. The story began with Annabelle’s first day at Greenworld Enterprises, and ended 100 days later with Christoph proposing to her on his yacht.
“Max, I don’t think it’s anything like Groundhog Day. I don’t think you get to escape when you do it just right.”
“You don’t? Well shit. How am I gonna get out of here then?”
“You just leave,” I said.
Max chuckled. “Vivian thought the same thing,” he said. “But we both were trapped here for God knows how long. It wasn’t that long ago when she said things had changed. She swore everything was different and now we could leave. But it turned out only she could leave. She was in Annabelle’s body. Then she wasn’t. I’m still stuck here.”
“I don’t understand, Max. Vivian was here and now she’s gone?”
“Yes, she was Annabelle. Then the story started over. Now you’re Annabelle. Lord, this is so strange. She was trapped here, just like me. Of course, she got here first, and holy hell was she ever mad when I showed up. She screamed at me that I messed everything up. Apparently Christoph was behaving properly before I arrived. Once I got here, he lost all his swagger.”
“Well yeah, that’s how it works,” I said. “You can take over the characters if you want to. I guess you didn’t like doing what Christoph wanted to do, did you?”
“I don’t know what Christoph wanted to do! I barely know who Christoph is. I think that’s the mystery I’m supposed to solve.”
“Max, you’re in his body,” I said, thinking about the flash of horrible memories I had when I was in the same spot. “It should all be there in your head. Everything about Christoph is there for you. All his memories, his desires—if you want to live as Christoph, you just let him be in charge.”
“See, that’s what Vivian was telling me too, only she was a lot angrier when she said it. She was convinced that I just needed to leave, to say ‘there’s no place like home’ or something. Believe me, I tried. But I couldn’t go anywhere. Neither of us could. So then Vivian got on this kick that I needed to shut down my brain so the real Christoph could take over. I tried that too. I’ve been trying to do it every day. I’d love to know more about this life I’m living. It’s a total mystery! Most of what I know about Christoph are things Vivian told me.”
“Really? You don’t have any of Christoph’s memories?” I asked. Max was scaring me with what he was saying.
“Not a thing. I’d think I would know it, don’t you? Seems like a billionaire should have some interesting memories for me to share.”
“Oh yes,” I said. “He has lots of interesting memories.”
“It’s so strange,” said Max. “I wonder what’s different with me. I wish I knew what I was doing wrong. Are you able to leave?”
I nodded my head, the full implications of what Max was telling me coming clear. He was trapped inside Christoph’s body, with none of Christoph’s mind there to keep him company. Meanwhile, Christoph had fully taken over Max in the real world.
“Be careful, Holly. Vivian thought she could leave at any time, but she was stuck with me here for months.”
“I know. The Kindle was off,” I said. Everything was falling into place in my mind. “It locked her inside. When I found it and turned it on, she was able to leave.”
“So she’s back in our bed?” Max said. “Just waking up like from a dream? God, I wish I could do that. I bet I’m lying right next to her.”
“I don’t know where Vivian is right now. I…Max…there’s something you should know.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Out there, your body—it’s still alive and well.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I just spent the last two days with you, Max. We went shopping, we went rafting, we went to a basketball game.”
“Rafting? Why the hell did we go rafting?”
“Max, I’m sorry, it’s a long story and--”
“I don’t understand, Holly. How can I still be doing things out there when my mind is in here? I was reading the Kindle when all of this started. Vivian said our bodies were safe in our bed.”
“Yeah it is. We went rafting? What’s going on with me out there? This is really starting to freak me out, Holly.”
“What’s going on with you is that you’ve switched places with Christoph. Somehow, I don’t know how, but somehow you’ve--”
An explosion just outside the office interrupted my sentence. It went off with such force that all the pictures fell of the walls.
“What was that?” I said, not remembering anything about an explosion in His Golden Shackles.
“I don’t know,” Max said. “Things are different every time I go through this story. Let’s go look.”
He walked past me and opened the door. Outside, in the hallways of Greenworld Enterprises, it was chaos. Employees were running around screaming. There was smoke everywhere. And at the end of the hall stood a slim man wearing a dark purple robe. He carried a long stick in his hand.
“Hello little Muggles,” he said. “Please don’t panic. If you do as I say, I won’t hurt you.”
“Muggles?” I said.
The man had an oddly shaped bald head and was missing a nose.
“Is that…Voldemort?”
“There’s all sorts of strange shit going on, Holly,” said Max. “A few minutes ago I was looking out the window and there was an elephant walking around in the street. And when I was driving in this morning I could see a tornado on the other side of the river. Can you imagine? A tornado in New Jersey? I can’t wait to get out of here.”
The robed man in the hallway, who I was pretty sure was straight from a Harry Potter novel, raised his wand and pointed it at one of the secretaries.
“I think your colleagues are in need of a demonstration,” he said.
And then, I kid you not, the elevator door opened and Yoda stepped out.
“Oh Dear, the little green elf has come back for more,” said Voldemort.
Holly and Her Naughty eReader Page 14
