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Chapter Forty-Four

My stomach roils andmy skin is clammy, all sensations I don’t expect to feel in the middle of a luxurious charity gala inside one of the most iconic buildings in Monte Carlo. It’s like ants are crawling all over me, and I don’t know why.

It’s unsettling. If I believe in signs, this feels like an omen.

It’s all in my head. Omens aren’t real.

I brush my damp palms over my purple silk gown, which Lana claimed was perfect for my complexion, then pat my classy low chignon, making sure strands aren’t escaping.

Taking deep breaths, I focus on my surroundings, a tactic which can help stop an anxiety spiral.

Salon Paris is gorgeous—one of the primary spaces in the hotel and casino. The vaulted ceilings are adorned with intricate frescoes, gold filigree wrapped around an oval stained-glass skylight of sea foam and amber hues. Tall Corinthian columns bracket the space, and multi-layered crystal chandeliers illuminate the room in a warm glow.

It’s beautiful. I should focus on this once-in-a-lifetime experience. Buttery aroma of the hors d’oeuvres lingers in the air. I hear the soft clinking of champagne flutes and laughter from crowds gathered around the blackjack tables throughout the space.

I shiver, hairs standing on my forearms. The unsettling pit in my stomach won’t go away.

I blow out another deep breath.Calm yourself.

“We’re not in Kansas anymore,” Lana says from my right and I flinch.

“Shit! You scared me.”

“Whoa, you don’t look so good. You okay?” She steps in front of me and frowns. Then she puts her palm on my forehead. “No fever. But you’re a bit pale.”

I shake myself. This is ridiculous. Maybe I caught a bug, or I didn’t sleep well last night.

I think about how I woke up this morning in the Absinthe suite alone when housekeeping knocked on the door, carrying a tray of assorted pastries, fruits, and coffee.

Then there was his note.

Olive,

You shine the brightest in my eyes.

Remember that.

And don’t believe everything you see. Trust me.

Rex

My heart tightened then, as it’s doing now. The note is bittersweet and ominous. What is he hiding, and why can’t he tell me?

I haven’t seen the man all day—it’s like he’s vanished from the ship.

My stomach churns again, the same foreboding weight settling over me.

“Have you seen Rex?” I ask Lana.

“I haven’t. I swear, I’m going to kill the man when I see him. This is the last big event before the cruise ends, and he’s pulled a Houdini on me.” Lana tosses her hands into the air, drawing attention to her figure-hugging gold gown.

I gnaw my lip. “Maybe something came up? This cruise is important to him. I doubt he’d ditch you unless it was urgent.”

If you asked me a month ago if I thought Rex Anderson had a serious bone in his body, I’d tell you no. But now, I know much of that is a facade, an act he’s putting on for others because he thought that was expected of him.

I wish I could make him see himself—his selfless heart, his sensitive soul, how he cares about the people he loves, like his family, with his whole being.

“I would’ve heard about it. I get morning briefings on everything happening on the cruise, and it’s all run-of-the-mill, nothing unusual. Although now that you mentioned it, there is something weird.”