Chapter Twenty-Seven
Luca and I have breakfast with his parents and Adaira. If they’re upset about us running off to Edinburgh for the day, they don’t show it. I just hope they don’t think it’s my idea. Not that it matters if they like me, but I don’t want them to think I’m rude.
We take Luca’s dad’s Land Rover and pick Andrew up a little past eight. “That gives me time to go with you guys for a while,” Luca says, as if he’s a little kid, afraid to miss anything. “I don’t have to meet Jasmine at the hotel until one.”
I concentrate on the scenery. It’s ridiculous that he’s seeing his diva and still worried about what fun Andy and I might have without him. He’s getting more like her, wanting everything while sacrificing nothing. Luca and Andrew point out landmarks from time to time, and I just listen.
“You okay?” Luca asks, reaching his hand over to my arm when we’re getting close to the city. “You’ve been really quiet.”
“Yes, of course,” I say. “I can be quiet, sometimes.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” Andrew chirps from the back seat. I turn to send him a dry look, but they laugh, and it distracts Luca.
We stop at the Kinnairds’ town house in a fashionable neighborhood that could be a posh section of London. Long rows of stone buildings line wide streets. The house is four stories of Georgian splendor, and it’s like being in a beautifully curated museum.
“Do you like it?” Luca asks as he finishes showing me around.
“It’s gorgeous. No wonder Andy is afraid of us ordinary folks wanting a slice of your life.”
Andrew grabs me in a bear hug and rubs his fist into my hair, but not hard. “I cannae stand this hen, Luca.”
Luca laughs. “Dai, let’s get an early lunch before I have togo.”
We walk to a pub a few streets over that Luca says is his favorite in the city. It’s an old, dark hiding place, away from tourists and high achievers. “No paparazzi here?”
“Oh, Story, there’s no paparazzi in Edinburgh unless they’re following a big star,” Andrew says, both of them amused at my naivete.
“You’d find them in Kansas before you’d find them here,” Luca says. He stops. “Which is a place no one really goes, right?”
I shrug. “I mean, it was good enough for Dorothy.” They give me a confused look, and I shake my head. “Never mind.”
When we’re settled at the table, Luca gives Andrew specific instructions about where to take me. He’s even made a list on notebook paper that he pushes across the table. Andrew shakes his head at the small, neat print.
“Buy Story a pretty tartan skirt in Princes Street,” Luca tells Andrew, “Something classic. I’ll pay you back.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say.
“You’d look beautiful in one,” Luca says.
I wish he weren’t so used to dropping compliments as if they were pennies in a fountain.
Our food comes, and we’re still eating when Luca checks his phone. “I guess I should go,” he says, as if he’s going off to some dreaded chore instead of seeing his girlfriend.
“You can stay with us if you want,” Andrew says with a laugh.
Luca drops his money on the table to pay the tab. “Some things you have to do in person,” he replies. Andrew and I glance at each other, and Andy pulls his eyebrows up and presses his lips together.
Luca shakes his head at us. “A couple of bloody nuggets, you two are. I’ll text you later to meet up. Just make sure Story has a good time. And buy her anything she wants.” He tosses Andrew the key fob to the Land Rover, but I can’t watch him go. Someone at the bar calls goodbye to him. I look up just as the door closes.
Andy picks up the list of places we’re supposed to visit. “Crivvens, we’d need a week to do all this.”
I try to smile. “He means well.”
Andrew looks at me, and I have to look down. “He’s a mad bastard to mean well, though, isn’t he?”
I force out a little laugh. “Yes. Yes, he is.”
“You’ll be all right.”
“I know.” I need to pull myself together. I should have stuck to the agreement. My head knows all this, but my heart seems to have its own opinions on everything these days.
“Honestly, though, even with all your social-justice happy-karma-wheat-grass stuff, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He’s a better person because of you.”
Andrew’s steady gray eyes are serious. Mine are swimming.
“Thank you.”
“I mean it, Story. He’s a lot more mature since you came into his life. He even thanks me now for the things I do. And he’s so happy. I’ve never seen him just be himself with anyone he dated for real like he does with you.”
“I guess when there’s nothing to prove, you don’t need to try so hard.” My voice is a bit scraggly.
“Maybe.”
“You can say I told you so, if you want.”
“I don’t want.”
I press my lips together and pull the list over. Sometimes Andrew is really wonderful. “Edinburgh Castle first?”
He nods. “Definitely. Come on. We’ll go have a barry time and forget all about that bampot.”
“Sounds good,” I say, and I’m proud of how normal it sounds because it’s taking all of my energy right now not to dwell on what’s about to happen at the Balmoral hotel.