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“I couldn’t resist. I thought it could be nice for her first photo shoot. Maybe.” I falter. “If you like. I know it’s cheesy.”
“This is so sweet.” She squeezes my hand. “Thank you so much. You’re spoiling them.”
“You’re welcome. They are my only nephew and niece, after all.”
“I’m so happy Damian has you back. We’re all happy to have you.” Her regard turns pensive. “You’ve never heard from Ian or Leon?”
“We grew apart while we were still young.”
“Will you ever try to find them?”
Leaning my chin in my hand, I say, “Maybe. As soon as I have my own life in order.”
“How’s that going, by the way?” She pulls the pitcher of water with mint and cucumber slices closer and pours two glasses.
“Great,” I say with enthusiasm.
She hands me a glass. “Really?” Her look is intuitive and soft.
“I’m getting there.” Taking a sip, I add, “One day at a time.”
“I know a great shrink.” She winks. “I can even arrange for a discount.”
“You mean your boss? Thanks, but no thanks.”
It’s not that I haven’t considered talking to someone about my Stockholm syndrome. It’s just that I’m scared of endangering anyone I speak to. Call me paranoid, but nobody knows how powerful Maxime is better than me. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s having all the shrinks in the country’s computers hacked for alert words like mafia, Marseille, France, and Stockholm.
Lina says with a glint in her eyes, “Maybe it’s time to take the next step.”
“What do you mean?” I glance toward Josh, keeping an eye on him as he climbs up the ladder to the top of the slide.
“A date.”
I look back at her. “What?”
“You know.” She waves with a hand. “Going out for drinks with a guy. Maybe kiss him. Maybe let him stay over?”
“Oh.” Dating hasn’t crossed my mind. “I’m not ready for that.”
“Because you’re not moving on.”
“You’re right. I’m slow at this, aren’t I?”
“Do you want to go back to him?”
“No,” I exclaim. “Of course not.”
“Okay. Just checking, because if you wanted to, I’ll be the last person to judge you for it.”
“I appreciate that, but I assure you it’s not going to happen.”
“Damian and I, we had our share of difficulties at the start of our relationship, but working through it was worth every minute.”
“He’s married.”
“All right,” she says, “but do let me know if I can play matchmaker. I have very strict criteria and valuable insight into the bachelors working for Damian.”
I laugh, but my heart isn’t in it. Even now, even with this great distance and a wife and a risky escape and all the bad history between us, Maxime holds me hostage. I’m still his prisoner.
“You know what?” I say. “I need to live in the present, not in the past.”
“Does that mean I can go bachelor hunting?”
“Nothing serious. Just drinks.” Even as I say it, I have the ridiculous notion that I’m betraying Maxime. Guilt settles in the pit of my stomach, making me feel sick. It rises up in my chest and throat, and leaves me strangely unsettled.
The waiter comes to take our order. We both choose a Waldorf salad with honey-drizzled yogurt and berries for dessert. As he leaves, the back of my neck starts to prick. Turning in my seat, I survey the parking. It’s fuller than earlier when I came in. More people have arrived. All the tables outside are occupied.
“Is something the matter?” Lina asks.
Shaking off the weird feeling of being watched, I offer her another half-hearted smile. It’s going to take me a while to stop looking over my shoulder. “Everything’s fine.”
“I’m going to take Josh to build his pizza before our food arrives. Would you like to come?”
“I won’t miss it for the world.”
Getting to my feet, I shoot a last glance at the bushes on the other side of the parking before I follow my sister-in-law to the tables next to the pizza ovens where the kids are rolling out their dough.
God, I really am paranoid. Perhaps I do need help.
Maxime isn’t going to find me. I’m being too careful.
Lina is right. It’s time to move on, or I’ll never be free. At least not truly free.
“You know what?” I say as we dodge a child racing around the mini track in a plastic jeep. “A date sounds like a good idea.”
Chapter 5
Maxime
Standing in front of my open study window, I take in the view. It’s a beautiful late April day, sunny and clear. There’s a bite in the spring air. I don’t mind it. I like the cold. I like the heat, too. I like all the seasons. I like them because of what this house represents. Home.
It’s what I wanted for Zoe, why I gave her the apartment. I only wanted her to have a place of her own where she could feel safe, happy, and relaxed. Since she ran, I had a lot of time to think. I had a lot of time to figure out where I’d gone wrong. I thought reading her needs and meeting every one of them was enough to trap her in my carefully designed web of psychological warfare. Making her fall for me had seemed like the perfect answer at the time. Like my oversight with the one thing she wants more than anything—love—I didn’t take her sense of right and wrong into consideration. Zoe isn’t the kind of woman who can be swayed with gifts or money. My material weapons are useless. She’s immune to them. Not to my charm, but that specific weapon has backfired on me. Falling in love with me seems to have hurt her more than bringing her happiness. She needs love and honor. She needs everything I don’t stand for.
