“You had no reason to tell me either,” I finished.
“That’s right.”
He smiled at me with those pearly teeth and full lips, and I felt like I could forgive him anything. It was a smile I knew well. I had been seeing it for months. That smile had accompanied me from afar in my eight o’clock classes, where I was late, in those nights out when I went home early.
That smile had the name Enzo, not Laurent Dubois.
My hands left his. I pursed my lips.
“And you didn’t know my boss is handling the case of yourmother’s murder?”
Enzo shifted his weight, leaning forward on his toes. Squatting, his face was below mine. He rested his chin on his hand, thoughtful, looking up at me.
“Saidi… I heard something about the case, yes. From the news.”
“And not even that prompted you to come clean?” Sharpness clung to my every word.
“I told you I have no relationship with my family. Not even with mum. I found out she had died when a journalist tried to get in touch with me for an exclusive. Dubois never told me.”
“I’m sorry.”
He tilted his head, moving his neck from side to side. Tension built up in his shoulders.
“Why did you come to the party?” he asked, curiosity in his voice. “You didn’t mention anything last night.”
“I didn’t know I was coming.”
“What?”
I bit my lip.
“I wanted to talk to Laurent… your father,” I corrected. “Eloïse said something at the Club Montari that made me think Mr Dubois might know something about the money.”
Enzo’s eyes widened in surprise, and I felt compelled to add, “Ridiculous, I know.”
If his own son couldn’t figure anything out… What could I do?
“No, no…” he said, barely giving me time to finish the sentence. “I’ll tell him to talk to you. Even if it’s just to put your mind at ease.” Enzo stood up, offering me a hand to help me off the sofa. “Let’s go, we have to say goodbye to the guests before they leave,” he said, avoiding looking me in the face.
I knew what he was thinking. The last thing the guests had seen was the two siblings separating two foreigners making out on the dance floor. It didn’t seem like a very elegant way to end the evening.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated. “About what happened earlier. When I…” Now he was looking at my face, and I didn’t look away. “I kissed Bastian. It was the last thing I intended to do.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Vera.”
Then why did I feel like I did?
What had it been… what? 30 hours since Friday morning? Since I had gotten the money? A day and a half. In a day and a half, my life had lost all structure. I was supposed to be at home or having a drink with Gina, talking about my date with Enzo, trying to shake off my nerves about Monday’s trial. But instead, I was in France. I had just messed up whatever had happened the night before between Enzo and me. I had made a fool of myself and…
And the trip had been for nothing. What the hell was I going to say to Enzo’s father, if even he hadn’t been able to find anything out?
I tasted bile in my throat. The greenish lights created a uniform blur of colour in my eyes.
Before I could stop myself, regain my composure, tears flooded my eyes.
Before I could realise how ridiculous the situation was, Enzo’s arms were tight around me.
All I could do was lean my forehead against his shoulder and cry.
