Chapter 13 #2
She glanced back at him with an upside-down smile. “A stiff breeze is all I need.”
My heart raced imagining all the ways Isa could dress down anyone in a matter of minutes. I didn’t know why that was so . . .
interesting, but it was.
“I’m sure he signed a very restrictive contract before coming here, so maybe try being nicer? It might help with the believability
of our relationship, too, because nobody was going to buy that performance.” I was sure she was already aware. She turned
to lean her back against the wooden bar. “I’m guessing acting lessons weren’t on the curriculum in those fancy schools you
went to?”
We were supposed to be two things: nice and a couple. Isa couldn’t sell either. In this setting, being effortlessly charming was difficult.
“He had me a little thrown,” she explained.
“He kept scribbling on that paper. I didn’t want to say anything I couldn’t back out of.
Facts are easy, but lying is less . . .” She trailed off.
“Anyway.” She poked me in the chest gently.
“Someone had to keep the conversation going. You could have taken advantage of the opportunity to make yourself seem interesting, but you were silent.”
“Who can keep up with you dominating the conversation?” I leaned in a little more. “Are you actually prepping to be a Jeopardy! contestant?”
A smile tempted the corner of her mouth but ultimately lost. “I like to be prepared when I know I’m meeting someone.”
She looked around the bar. Some of the guests were still there; most of the family had already cleared out. She nodded her
head in the direction of the door. The hotel was only a block away.
We stepped out onto the cobblestone-lined street.
Under the velvety stretch of the Parisian night sky, we meandered down the Champs-élysées. The City of Lights was just that,
dark but alive. A soft hum—a symphony of distant laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional purr of a luxury car gliding
by—made the energy palpable.
“Why?” I asked as the summer night’s breeze swept across her curls, making them dance gently. “Isn’t that what conversation
is for? Getting to know someone?”
“You never know when it’ll come in handy.” Her steps against the pavement were a little off-balance as she leaned some weight
against me. She swayed a bit, occasionally brushing into me. “You know, like when I’m charming the mayor for your charity.”
“Right,” I agreed sarcastically. “And God forbid someone knows something you don’t.”
She blinked a couple times, surprised by my barb. I was half expecting she might be offended, because it seemed like she didn’t like to be caught off guard. She prepared herself so she never would be.
“Doesn’t happen often,” she assured me, looking straight ahead. The dim glow from the street lanterns skated up the line of
her jaw as we walked past.
“You’re very smug for someone with the acting skills of a cardboard cutout in a high school play.”
This time her smile won out and a laugh burst like a firecracker from her full lips. A thousand tiny sparks landed on my skin,
popping down my body in a delightful sensation.
Her eyes slid across the street, then over to the grand stone facades of a closed luxury boutique we walked past as we made
our way to the hotel entrance. Anywhere to not meet mine. “You’re not very good at this either.”
On the long list of things I wasn’t good at, I was sure acting probably made it on there. But this may have been the one thing
in the entire world, besides athletics, that I might actually be better at than her. And it seemed like it bothered her. Isa
didn’t want to lose; it was oddly enticing.
“Still better than you,” I challenged as we walked into the Ritz’s marble lobby.
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed and walked even slower now. Her body leaned against my side, and I was tempted to swing an arm around
her. But that was forward, and we didn’t need to pretend in front of an empty lobby . . . I couldn’t figure it out, but I
still wanted to. “At least I’m not the one who needed to create fictional children to convince people we were dating.”
“No, you’re the one who avoided the subject altogether.” I chuckled. Beneath the sweep of her dark lashes, a playful smile pulled at her lips. A warm tension stretched between us, nearly collapsing the rest of my thoughts. “I guess I found the one thing that scares you.”
She looked back ahead, like she was gaming out what to say. My fingers tingled waiting for her to whip back her response.
“Nothi—” She and her sentence stopped dead in their tracks. Her entire frame, relaxed and leaning a bit against mine a few
seconds ago, went completely rigid like a deer caught staring at an oncoming truck.
I looked in the direction that had her frozen and saw a couple walking toward the elevator, in front of an art-lined wall.
The woman pushed her brown hair over her shoulder. The man, the one from the pictures in Isa’s apartment, the ones she was
throwing away, followed a few steps behind the woman. Her ex.
“Blake.” The woman took a step closer to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Come on. I’m exhausted.”
The reminder was a downpour on the breezy night we were having.
Isa turned so her back faced them, inching closer to me, like she was using my body to hide.
They walked into the elevator and the doors shut.
“Isa . . .” I looked into her eyes as she stared blankly at the floor.
For someone who was always ready to pick a fight with anyone, I’d never seen her appear so defeated.