Page 142 of One Summer in Paris


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Daddy.

When had Sophie last called him Daddy?

Not since she was very young.

Grace stared straight ahead. She hadn’t planned on contacting David, but she knew he’d be horrified when he found out about this and discovered she’d known and hadn’t told him.

They’d always handled everything together.

It was a shock to discover that she wanted to call him.

“I’ll call Dad. Go and splash your face, then go back to Chrissie. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” She ended the call and turned to find Philippe standing there.

He handed her a cup of coffee. “I’m guessing this means you’re not coming to Budapest.”

Budapest? The one thing she hadn’t given a single thought to during the conversation was Philippe.

“No, I won’t be coming. I have a family crisis. My daughter—” She stopped as Philippe held up his hand.

“You don’t need to explain.”

She felt so tired and emotional it was hard to speak. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? It’s been fun, Grace.”

That was all he was going to say?

“These last few days—” she swallowed. “I thought maybe—”

“That we could be more?” He shook his head. “I don’t want more. We could have extended the fun, but it would never have been more than that. Not for me.”

“And that’s my fault.” She realized that she had tears on her cheeks. “I feel terrible that I’m the reason you don’t have anyone special in your life. That you prefer to be alone. I hurt you so badly—”

“That’s not true.”

“You said—”

“You’re not understanding me, Grace. I am happy with this life. This is exactly the life I want. It’s not a compromise for me. I’m not living this way because I’m wounded. I’m living this way because I like to be free.”

“But what about family? Love?”

“Music is my love, Grace. I travel for her. I live for her. That’s it.”

He hadn’t even asked about her call. He could see she was upset and anxious, but he hadn’t made any attempt to comfort her.

That wasn’t what their relationship was.

And she saw then that what they had wasn’t real at all. It never would have been anything other than a dizzying fling. It was like dining out in a fancy restaurant. An amazing occasional experience, something you’d always remember, but not something you wanted to do every day.

She’d thought she was in love with him at eighteen, but perhaps she’d really been in love with the contrast he’d offered to her own life. At the time, she’d been desperate to step out of her world and into his.

But now his world held no appeal for her at all.

She put her coffee down and dressed quic

kly. “Do you know how quickly I can get a flight to Rome?” Should she have said something when Sophie had mentioned partying? She’d been afraid of being a killjoy. What else had the girls been doing that Grace didn’t know about?

“You’re forgetting I never make my own travel plans.”

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