The Last of August (Charlotte Holmes, #2)

by Brittany Cavallaro

I said to him, the air quotes visible.

And your men report back to you about what

I was coming to realize that I always found that compelling, that kind of mastery and passion, that she could be talking about her rock collection this way and I’d still want to know more.

Personally, I’ve often thought that Watson and I had all the trappings of a standard romantic relationship—absolute exclusivity, obsessive intensity, constant arguments, crime-solving—and have been confused as to what more he wants.

My “magic tricks.” I don’t know if he’s understood yet who the reveals are really for.

Beneath the wig, beneath the Coke-bottle glasses, despite every fight we’d had in the past few weeks and the ridiculous plastic mask I wore, Charlotte Holmes was looking at me like I was her violin.