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“I…I don’t have anything else.” Not a thing, and that wasn’t an exaggeration. Panic crept up my spine. What in the hell was I going to do? “Can you try the card again?”
We went back and forth like that for a good long time. Over and over, he’d try the card, it would be rejected, and he’d yell louder at me. That didn’t make what he was saying any clearer. Was he going to call the police? Was I going to spend the night in a prison in Paris? What was going to happen here? I…
The door flung open and standing in front of me was Zeke Scott, my father’s business partner. My mouth fell open. What was he doing here?
He regarded me for a second before he turned his attention to the cab driver, saying things back to him that I also couldn’t make out before he handed him some cash. At least that stopped the shouting.
Zeke reached in and grabbed my arm, basically yanking me out of the cab a second before the disgruntled driver took off like a bat out of hell down the block and away from where we stood watching. Gentler than he’d tugged me, Zeke let go of my arm.
“Sorry about that. I was half-convinced he was going to abscond with you as some sort of interest payment.”
That was a really stupid joke, but I laughed because I was so fucking relieved, I could hardly contain myself. “Wh— what are you doing here?”
Why was it hard to breathe? Someone had to have called him. This wasn’t just random. It couldn’t have been…
“Hope called.” He held up his phone. “Asked me to come get you, that you’d be arriving in a taxi you couldn’t pay for.”
My sister had saved me. “Why didn’t the card work? What is going on?”
“Seems that your brother has taken off with some diamonds that you gave him. He and Kit took the money and ran, so to speak.” He shook his head. “Stupid idiots. At least he sent you here. I happened to be here. I don’t know that I’d have crossed town to save you somewhere else.”
Okay. I was cooked. Fried. The dress that had earlier felt like a coffin was now like a noose. There was nothing around my neck, and yet it felt like someone choked me to death. Had all the air been sucked out around us?
Zeke placed his hand on my shoulder. “Layla. Do us both a favor and don’t pass out. I’m really not in the mood to play any bigger role in your drama today than the one I’ve just been forced to manage.”
My panic shifted from anxiety to anger in two seconds flat. “In my what?”
“Don’t shout either. The entire world doesn’t need to hear our conversation.”
My day really couldn’t get much worse. I’d run from Kit and left him at the altar. My father hated me, my brother stranded me at a hotel with no money, and despite his promises to come, he was obviously not going to do so. And Hope had sent Zeke Scott to get me—the man of my teenage fantasies—and he was proving himself to be just another asshole in the long line of men that I knew in this world.
I took a long breath. It didn’t really steady me, but I was going to pretend that it had. “Where is Hope?”
He looked away for a second before practically glaring at me. “On an airplane with Bridget and your father. They weren’t given the opportunity to get your stuff.”
That wasn’t possible. Justin, yes, he would abandon me, but not Hope. She and Bridget never would. I was one hundred percent sure about that.
“Hope said to tell you,” he pulled out his phone and stared down at it, “that she had no choice but to get on the plane. They drove straight to it, and if she doesn’t get on it, things will be worse for you. She will explain when you two next talk.”
I was fucked. I closed my eyes. I was in Paris. I couldn’t speak or understand a word being said to me, and I had almost no money in the account that was mine. My brother had stranded me at this hotel. What was I going to do? I counted to ten. It didn’t help. I was going to have to fake my way through this.
When I lifted my lids, I’d pulled it together at least well enough that I wasn’t going to cry. I hoped. “Zeke.” I didn’t know that I’d ever said his name aloud before. I’d said it plenty in the dark when I was all alone and imagining things I’d want done to my body. Asshole he might be, but gorgeous nonetheless. Besides, if today showed anything, it was that I had no sense whatsoever when it came to choosing men. Even my fantasies proved to be bad for me.
He lifted his eyebrows. We stood under a covering that led into the hotel. If we turned left, we’d be inside, right would take us back to the street. “Layla?”
That was twice now he’d said my name. It was a new record. “I need a minute. I…I don’t know what to do, and I have to think. My mind…it doesn’t want to work at the moment.”
“Does it work at other times?” He shook his head.
That was it. My father had been done with me, and I was officially done with this conversation. What had I done to Zeke to deserve this? I’d not even asked him to come and rescue me from the cab. Had I hit his dog with my car and didn’t remember? Injured him in some way that earned me his disdain?
“What is your problem?” He didn’t want me to yell, but that was what I was doing now. “I’m sorry you were inconvenienced. I realize this whole morning has probably been a lot of boring for you, but my life is falling apart, and I would appreciate it, given that you are a family friend, if you could try to be a little less rude.”
My lower lip trembled. It was a telltale sign I was going to lose it. Full on sobs were on their way if I didn’t suck this back in. I hated crying. Not that anyone ever liked it. But it wasn’t like I had a whole lot of experience with anyone taking care of me when I cried. I was mostly told to knock it off.
“Do you want me to pat your head and tell you it’s all going to be okay? You ran out on your wedding and pissed off your father, little girl. What did you think was going to happen?”
I boiled over. He’d done me the favor of igniting my temper. It at least made the tears vanish. “I’m not a little girl. I am obviously a grown up, and I don’t want you to pat me on the head. All I asked you to do was to give me a fucking minute to think.”
