28. Luc
28
LUC
I paced on the hotel balcony as the city woke up around me. Even in Paris, the air was still warm, and the aroma of baking pastries and coffee drifted from somewhere below.
I rubbed at my raw eyes. I’d only fallen asleep a few hours ago, but I’d snapped awake as soon as the light crept in through my window, thinking of Iris and what I’d lost.
My phone pinged in my pocket, but my heart didn’t lurch. It barely registered a beat. I knew it wouldn’t be Iris. More likely, it was my sister. She’d peppered me with texts non-stop since the opera. I hadn’t opened the last few, but her previous ones all said the same. How she worried about me and wanted to talk. None of them mentioned Iris or wondered how she was.
With a sigh, I pulled out my phone and strode into the bedroom. I sat down on the covers, running my fingers over the unmade sheets—the same sheets Iris and I laid on together, only yesterday—the sheets I lay on now, alone.
I threw myself against the pillows, reliving last night for the hundredth time. After I’d found my mother’s pin, Esmé and I had come up with a plan of attack. She stayed behind at the opera with my grandmother, in case Iris came back. I’d contacted my driver, and we’d trailed the local streets, trying to find her.
I’d called and texted Iris, but every single message remained unanswered or unopened.
She hadn’t gone to the hotel, there was no sign of her at the train station or the airport. I’d called the authorities and despite any influence I had, they hadn’t found her either.
Finally, just after midnight, I heard from her. I let out a shuddering breath as I reached for my phone to re-read her message.
Iris: Luc, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to make you worry, but I needed some time to think. I’m fine. I caught the mail train to the coast. From there, I’ll get a connection to Marsan. I should be back by morning. Please don’t try to contact me. It won’t do either of us any good. I’d appreciate it if you could send my bag to the chateau. Getting to know you has been like a dream, and I wish you the best in your search for love. Iris.
My heart sank every time I read it. I’d felt so helpless last night, but as I’d waited for dawn to arrive, I knew I had to do something.
I’d taken a long bath, then contacted Agnes. After some protest, she’d given me Chloe’s mobile number. And with that scribbled across the room service menu, I opened my phone and pressed out the digits.
After six rings, Chloe answered, her voice hesitant. “Hello? Who is this?”
“Chloe, it’s Luc.”
She sucked in a breath before saying, “Oh.”
“Is Iris back at Marsan yet?”
She hummed out a response. “Ummm. ”
I fisted the sheet, wringing it between my fingers. “Chloe, I’ve been going out of my mind. I just want to know she’s safe. That’s all.”
Her heavy sigh sounded like an enormous wave crashing to the shore. “She got back a little while ago. She’s in the shower. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I don’t think she’s going to want to talk to you.”
“I know. I won’t bother her. But is she okay?”
I could hear voices in the background, but none of them were Iris. “Well, I haven’t had the full debrief yet, but aside from whatever happened at the opera, she had some news from Nathan yesterday. I know that upset her.”
My heart skipped. “What news?” What had her ex done? I wouldn’t put it past him to sell her cat out of spite.
“Hang on.” I heard some shuffling and the bang of a door. “Sorry, too many ears. I can talk now. He said he would have to move out of their old flat. You see, she owes him money. Nathan said he might not take Stuart with him.”
The hair at my nape bristled. Iris had mentioned she owed her ex money. “How much does she owe him?”
“Um, a few thousand pounds, I think.”
“Three?” I ground out.
“That sounds about right.”
I shook my head. That was the amount she’d asked me to pay her for pretending to be my fiancée. She’d helped me so she could get her cat back. I’d wondered why she asked for so little.
“Oh, Iris,” I murmured.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking what a beautiful person our friend is.”
“She is.” Chloe let out another long sigh. “Look, I can’t believe I’m telling you this, but I think Iris really likes you, Luc. I mean, she might have thought you were grumpy to start with, but you’ve grown on her.”
At her words, my pulse kicked up a beat. “She told you that?”
“Mmm, not exactly, but I’ve known my friend for a long time. Iris may seem happy-go-lucky on the outside, but she’s had a really tough time with her ex. I don’t know if she’s told you, but he wasn’t the best boyfriend. He treated her like a doormat most of the time. And Iris was a freakin’ angel to put up with him for as long as she did. I know she likes you, but I think she’s probably scared of getting hurt again.”
I let out my own long sigh, a glimmer of hope nudging through the gloom in my heart. “But I wouldn’t hurt her.”
Chloe gave a dry chuckle. “Yes, but as an outsider, I can tell you the odds of your relationship being more than a fling are overwhelmingly against her. You must know she’s a practical person.”
“I do.” I thought back to the time she’d told me to put my wine glass away down by the pool, and I suspected she’d made her own dress the night she’d met my grandmother.
“But,” Chloe continued, hanging on the vowel, “I know she wouldn’t fear getting hurt by you if she didn’t care.”
My chest pulled, and I sat up against the pillows. “I care about her, too. So much. And I want to tell her, but she won’t answer my calls. And sending a text doesn’t seem right. What I have to say is too important.”
After a moment, Chloe spoke. “I won’t ask her to call you. It’s not fair. But if you care as much as you say, you’ll find a way to let her know.”
Warmth spread through my chest, radiating around my whole body, and the corners of my lips peaked. “I think I have an idea. But I’ll need your help.”