Abandoned In Paris, Reborn In London
tte He
fferent. We arrived at the hotel, a grand old building near the Seine, well past midnight. I was bone-tired from the flight, the f
welcome buzz in the quiet lobby. He glanced at the screen, and his fac
and strained. "Eve? What'
e, the kind he only ever seemed to reserve for her. My heart didn't even flutter. It
How could you... No, no, don't cry. I'm on my
seen directed at me in years. He mumbled something to the
asked, my voice flat. I
She apparently took a last-minute flight because she's always wanted to see P
? "A flat tire in the middle of nowhere"? Eve's emergencies were always perfectly timed,
ted, numbly. "In Pari
times. I have to go, Char. She's really scared. I just can't leave her alone." He reached for my hand
foreign country. My luggage, containing my passport and wallet, was likely still in his car, or with his assistant, or... somewhere. The detai
d activated a new local SIM card later. The bellhop looked at me, a polite, questioning look on his face. I
pity and suspicion. "Madame, without identification, I cannot check you
d. He always handled the "logistics," which often meant keepi
on desk ticked slowly, each minute a leaden weight. One hour passed. Then two. Damion didn't return. The initial wave of frustration gave way to a
ars, finally caught up. I leaned my head against the cool velvet, drifting in and out of a restl
u?" A low, familiar voice cut
me, silhouetted against the soft lobby lights. He had a camera b
or Carey. My old college lab partner. The easygoing, endlessly pati
doing sleeping in a fancy Parisian hotel lob
y, finding a familiar face felt like a miraculous anchor. "Connor! Oh my god, it's really you
g around the empty lobby, then back to my
call. An 'emergency.' Had to go." I didn't bother to elaborat
ing look in his eyes. "His 'hel
mirthless chuckle
"So, where are you staying? An
explained. "Damion has it. S
passport? In a foreign country?" His voice held a note of genuine
n, Connor, could you do me a huge favor? Is there any way you could help me get a
. They're usually pretty good about giving me a spare if I ne
t French to the bewildered night manager. A few minu
it's empty, and it has a bed. You can crash there for the night. I'll be in 409. If you need anythin
laugh that felt foreign on my
sed, a thoughtful look on his face. "Get some sleep, Charlotte. We can figure out the Damion deba
d, the words feeling inade
uching my shoulder, a gesture of purely pl
the elevators, the key card a small, warm weight in my hand. For the first time in a lon