Magic Mansion by Jordan Price (best fiction books to read .txt) 📕

nothing. It’s fine.” And before they could say anything more, the room flooded with crew, and then the rest of the Gold Team trooped in laden with shopping bags filled with styling products, and then Iain with his cell phones and his perpetual annoyance. But even as Ricardo turned away, the headiness of his touch lingered, and John decided that despite the risk of discovery, and despite the chaos his ill-advised action had caused…despite everything, that single brush of Ricardo’s fingers had been worth it.

___

Once the dust settled, the plaster was cleared, the ceiling was shored up and the handhelds were once again making their lazy circuit around the ballroom, Ricardo lined up with his teammates and watched the Red Team troop in. While it was true that no magician on the opposing team was a jovial, smiley sort of performer, it seemed to Ricardo that tonight they were particularly angry.

Gold Team had debated whether or not to buy their competitors anything on the shopping spree that followed the salon visit—but Faye had insisted that when the chefs on Out of the Frying Pan brought home token gifts for their opponents, it had been viewed not as gesture of inclusion, but one of condescension.

Ricardo was glad enough to not feel pressured to buy anything for that jerk, Kevin. And no one needed to know he hadn’t picked out the pearlescent gray bow tie for himself. Having something to give John once their part of the shooting had wrapped would be the perfect ice-breaker, and so really, the afternoon had been as full of “win” as Ricardo could possibly have hoped.

“Take a look at you,” Monty exclaimed in his cute Aussie accent as he strode by the Gold Team on his way to his mark. “Very spunky.” He gestured to include the whole team, though Ricardo noticed it was actually Sue who’d caught his eye. Eliza Watt, stylist to the stars, had managed her crew with an iron fist. She was apparently a big fan of “lowlights,” which made Sue’s dark blonde hair glow like warm honey. Even Bev had been convinced to try some…once she was informed she had all the fashion sense of an ex-nun.

Faye had refused everything but a facial and a deep condition, and her red dye-job now looked a bit tacky compared to everyone else’s fancy refinements. Everyone but Muriel, actually, who’d been game to go along with a rather bizarre addition of glittery blue filaments in her long gray hair and an extreme eyebrow wax that left her looking somewhat surprised.

It had been a relief when Ms. Watt pronounced Ricardo’s hundred-and-fifty-dollar haircut, “Not bad,” though she did tweak it (herself, no less) with some micro-adjustments she claimed would accentuate his eyes. Maybe she knew what she was talking about. John sure seemed to like what he saw.

Luckily, the rest of the Gold Team was smiling just as wide as Ricardo, so he didn’t need to tone it down. It felt good to be happy. In fact, it felt awesome.

Especially when John’s eyes met his across the room, and John’s gaze softened. He didn’t quite smile, but Professor Topaz had never been an ebullient kind of guy. No, the Professor was intense. And that was even hotter.

“Greetings, magicians,” Monty read from his teleprompter. “Some of you spent the afternoon being pampered, while the rest of you endured a day of grueling labor. Hopefully the lesson you’ll take away from today’s events is how critical it is to win these challenges.

“Keep that in mind tonight, when you’ll be able to strategize for the next challenge, which I’ll announce in just a few moments. First, though, I have some sad news for you. The Red Team’s punishment is not quite finished.”

Ricardo felt their anger surging through the room like a pressure change in an airplane cabin, though not one member of the Red Team had so much as moved. In fact, they were preternaturally still. Except for Kevin Kazan, who’d narrowed his eyes.

“Will the two members of the Red Team who lost the Metamorphosis Challenge please step forward?”

Fabian stepped forward stiffly—though it was difficult to tell if that stiffness represented anger, or the residual effects of the deep-tissue massage, or the day he’d spent wrangling weeds. Ken was stricken.

“I’m sorry to say that the audience has voted one of you out of Magic Mansion.”

As much as Ricardo reminded himself that the whole point of a competition was to eliminate players, it still managed to surprise him. Each and every time.

“The magician who will be leaving tonight is…Ken Barron.”

Ken closed his eyes, and he swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple rose and fell, casting a distinct shadow on his sinewy throat. Even from across the room, Ricardo swore he could feel the man’s heart breaking.

“Thank you, Ken,” Monty said—compassionately, though of course he’d probably been told to say it that way. “It’s time to say goodbye.”

For a moment it seemed as if Ken had frozen to the spot, and despite his dismissal, would continue to stand there, throat working, until the same burly security guard who’d escorted Charity and Oscar up for their luggage and out to the parking lot might come in and flank the escape artist now, too. But then one of the stolid Red Team magicians broke rank.

John stepped forward and placed a hand on Ken’s shoulder, with his stern expression shifting to one of regret. Although John was tall and slim and austere, it looked easy enough for him put his arms around Ken and offer comfort. It seemed as though he might speak, but then Ken’s shoulders shifted, and he hugged John back, tightly, and words were no longer necessary. They clasped one another fiercely, but only for a moment.

John’s decision to embrace his eliminated teammate caused a ripple of compassion to spread through the Red Team. Fabian turned to Ken and hugged him too, though it was more of a manly clap-on-the-back type of gesture. Jia stood on tiptoe to kiss him