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Using the opportunity to walk with them, I sneak inside the restaurant and try to be as inconspicuous as I can be.
I talk to the hostess about reserving a table for dinner, although I have no intention to dine here.
While doing that, I drag my gaze around the room.
A few tables are occupied, and Roman is nowhere in sight.
Maybe there is a VIP room somewhere––he is the type––or maybe he left already through a different door.
I thank the woman and tell her I’ll get back to her before strolling toward the exit, still looking, searching.
Oh. There he is. He’s having lunch with someone on the terrace. Or drinks. I move closer and take a look.
It’s a man I don’t know, two more approaching the table coming from the pool. I don’t know them either.
Enough of that. I spin around and almost crash into a server before scurrying away and heading straight outside.
I look around for the parking valet and check the vehicles on the side. I spot the white Lamborghini, a few limousines, and more sports cars. Kai’s Ferrari is nowhere in sight.
“May I help you, Miss?”
“Yes. I need a ride.”
I use a limousine because I want the driver to wait for me while I snoop around someplace else.
This is not a good idea. It’s terrible, in fact, but the fury spinning inside me makes it impossible for me to think straight.
I don’t like when people assume things about me. And I don’t like guessing and cat and mouse games.
While I love games, particularly the one setting me financially for life, this situation frustrates me.
I plop onto the back seat and lean back before the limousine starts rolling. The trip takes me to his new apartment building.
The place where the four of us were supposed to meet that night.
I’d lie to say I don’t have a bittersweet feeling about this.
I think Kai was serious. I think he wanted us to spend some time at his apartment. I think he was fine with it.
But he couldn’t be fine.
Even back then, he knew I’d spent time with Alejandro. He knew things weren’t the same. He wanted them to crumble, lift me from the rubble and claim me as his own.
But is that true?
Everyone in the group thinks the game has always been about him and me. What I saw in him has given me hope in that direction, but honestly, how reliable is that feeling?
Maybe it was all in our heads, and we got fooled by it.
We are entering the street outside of Kai’s apartment when my eyes move to the few parking spots in the front.
My heart somersaults when I spot his red car.
There was a slim chance he’d be here. And I requested to come here mostly to ask the people at the concierge whether they’d seen him or not.
But I was convinced he was out in town. How else would Roman meet him?
Now that I’m here and he is here, or maybe he’s not, and only his Ferrari is parked in the front, my resoluteness fades.
