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She shrugged. “I was a novelty. A juicy burger in the company of a whole lot of filetmignon.”
He looked genuinely appalled. “You don’t give yourself enough acredit.”
“You’re deflecting.” She smiled. “And I’m not looking for pity. After all these years, I finally like who Iam.”
He turned his eyes to the city stretched out beyond the water on either side. “I like who you are as well, in case you haven’tnoticed.”
“I did notice, but you still haven’t answered my question.” She had the feeling that the clock was ticking on the demolished wall between them, that there was some kind of magic at work in Paris that had allowed them to get closer, a brand of magic that might not translate to real life in NewYork.
There are some things I can’tchange.
He turned to look at her and the wind blew a lock of his hair loose from the rest. He captured her hand in his. “You’re real, Nina. In fact, you might be the only real thing in mylife.”
“Is real a euphemism forprovincial?”
“No, real is a euphemism for real,” he said. “That’s the novelty: that you’rereal.”
She lay her hand on his cheek. “You’re real too,Jack.”
A flash of pain crossed his eyes before he closed the door on it. “Sometimes I’m not sosure.”
Her stomach twisted with the words, her heart clenching in her chest. She wanted to dig, to ask him why he would say such a thing, why he would believe it, but she sensed the questions would be unwelcome, that the window on her free pass with Jack was alreadyclosing.
“We should start for the airport,” he said. “If we’re lucky, you may even be able to get some sleep before worktomorrow."
