“A relationship.”
“Are you just going to repeat words I say? Where’s the big brotherly advice? Where’s the apology for deciding I couldn’t possibly find men attractive?”
Cillian shifted in his seat. “Right.” He shook his head. “You and Laurent.”
“You already said that. Yes, me and Laurent. For about a week, anyway. And then I messed it up. Maybe it’s a King family trait. Maybe Liam got all the making relationships work genes. His marriage has always seemed to be plain sailing.”
“Go and see him maybe,” Cillian offered. “Laurent, not Liam. That’s what I did when Finn blocked my calls.”
“You think I haven’t tried that? Either he wasn’t in, or he was pretending he wasn’t. I draw the line at hanging around his building and waiting for him to go in or out like a stalker.”
“Are you sure you want Laurent? Laurent, of all people?”
Irritation flared in me like a firework going off. “He’s handsome. He’s witty.” I ticked the points off on my fingers. “He has a French accent. He’s good in bed. He doesn’t take any shit. Which, yes, begs the question of why I thought he’d be grateful about what I did. He’s honest. He’s good to his friends. He likes animals. He knows Marquis de Sade quotes. Do I need to keep going? I reckon I could come up with at least five more things.”
“Marquis de Sade quotes?”
I waved Cillian’s question away as inconsequential. “It was a thing we discussed on our first date that wasn’t a date, but when I look back now feels like it was one. We went to the museum, and I took part in a magic show.”
“I think…” Cillian said slowly, “that I need an empty bladder for this conversation.” He got up and headed for the restaurant toilet without another word. When the waiter came to enquire whether we were finished, I let him take the plates, neither of us having eaten a thing for the last ten minutes.
Without Cillian there to distract me, I returned to thinking about Laurent. Some sort of big gesture, maybe. But what? Apology flowers? I could have them delivered. I just couldn’t picture Laurent as being a huge fan of flowers, though. Hewas more practical-minded than that. And assuming I could get as far as talking to him, what did I actually want from the relationship? More than fuck buddies. That was obvious. But how much more? The whole shebang? That was a distinct possibility. And I had no one but myself to blame when I’d been the one to make it clear I didn’t want a relationship. It was all moot anyway when he didn’t want to talk to me, never mind contemplate being anything more than we’d originally set out to be.
My thoughts preoccupied me so completely that when my phone rang, it startled me. A quick check of the screen before answering had excitement, nerves, and a measure of relief pumping through my system. Was that all Laurent had required—three days to calm down? I prayed it was as I forced myself to stay calm and brought the phone to my ear. “Hey, you! I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear from you.”
“Yeah. Right.”
I frowned at how unhappy Laurent sounded, his voice clipped. “What’s wrong? Is it your father?”
“My father’s fine. I have Katrina here.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“You heard. She turned up on my doorstep an hour ago, sobbing and begging me to end my relationship with the father of her child. She showed me her ring.”
Shock rendered me speechless for a few seconds, Cillian raising a quizzical eyebrow at my expression as he retook his seat on the other side of the table. “Ring? What ring?” I stammered.
“The engagement ring you gave her. Nice ring. Big. Lots of diamonds. It must have cost you a lot. I guess it’s normal to get cold feet about a wedding. Not so normal to handle it by jumping into bed with a man, but I suppose we all have our different coping mechanisms. I’m glad I could be of service. But now it’s time to come and get her and take her back to London. QuicklyMac, in case you haven’t already worked that out. My plans for the day didn’t include a hysterical female acting like I’m the devil incarnate.”
“That’s… None of that is…” But Laurent had already hung up. “Fuck!” This time I didn’t give a damn about the woman at the next table. I had more important things to worry about, like Katrina being here in Paris, somehow having gotten hold of Laurent’s address, and doing her damndest to wreck my life. “I have to leave. I’m sorry,” I announced.
“What’s going on?” Cillian asked.
I gave him a truncated version, taking little pleasure from the fact that Cillian had once labeled my relationship issues with Katrina as being wildly exaggerated. By the time I’d finished, Cillian had zero problems with me leaving him eating alone.
“At least you get to talk to Laurent,” he pointed out.
I laughed. “Yeah, but he wants even less to do with me than before, which is saying something.”
When I went to leave, Cillian grabbed my arm. “Keep me posted and let me know if there’s anything I can do. If she’s as crazy as you say, and it sounds like she is, then you need to be careful. I’ll happily hire the best lawyer money can buy and set him on her. Restraining order… whatever it takes. Just say the word.”
“That’s really sweet.” I meant it as well.
“I’m your big brother.”
“Yeah.” And for perhaps the first time in my life, it felt like he really was. If nothing else, coming to Paris had given me that.
Chapter Twenty-four
