With a shrug, I hold my hand out. “I’d hoped we could part friends. We did have a good time together.”
“Amalie.” Dark lashes lower over Muscadine eyes. For a moment he doesn’t say anything. Then his brow rises, and his eyes flicker open. “Let me take you to this... this gala. The BCBG—”
“It’s BGCB, and I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Turning both palms up, he’s pleading. “Your mother already offered us the tickets. I’ll be here until Sunday. We can go, and if you still want me to leave—”
“I will still want you to leave.”
Reaching out, his palms smooth up and down my arms. “Amalie, ma petite.”
A tinge of softness moves in my chest. It’s how he got me the first time. “I’m sorry.” My voice is quiet. “I don’t mean to hurt you. It’s time. That’s all.”
He lifts a hand to touch my bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. “I still can feel the softness of your lips against mine.” His dark head drops a bit lower, and his accent thickens the words. “I still remember your taste... un goût de miel. Let me love you, little flower.”
He whispers the last part against my temple, and I confess, my insides warm. I’m only human. Armand was a wonderful lover, and I could be tempted if things were different. If I weren’t still reeling from what happened tonight in the street. If I didn’t still have the bright red mark above my breast, on my hip, on my thighs, left by another lover. A lover I couldn’t seem to keep out of the wall around my heart.
Clutching his sleeves, I push away and go to the door. “I’m sorry. It’s not how I feel now.”
My hand is on the doorknob, and with a sharp inhale, he walks to where I stand. “But you will go with me to the gala? As an au revoir?”
Time seems to tick slowly past. The gala. Marcus asked me to go, but then he took it back. I can’t stop my automatic response.
“Okay.” It’s the worst mixed-signal I could send, but I send it anyway. “An au revoir, and nothing more.”
“One can only hope.” His straight white teeth are revealed with his smile.
Two brief kisses, and he’s out the door. I close it and lean my back against it. I’m not weak, and I didn’t say yes because I wanted to have a farewell date with Armand. Something sick in me wants to see Marcus there with her. I need to know if he moved on that fast—so fast it gave me whiplash. If he’s there, if I see he’s moved on, I’ll have my closure. I can forget him.
Sylvia’s soft voice breaks through my thoughts. “I’m sorry if I put you in an awkward position, darling.”
Shaking my head, I manage to give her a small smile. “It’s okay. Armand’s nice. I’ll be okay.”
“I just thought... He seems very interested in you, and he traveled all this way.”
“He likes to collect pretty things.” Walking slowly into the living room, I add, “And he doesn’t like when his pretty things don’t behave.”
My mother’s eyes search my face. “It was more than that.”
I can’t have this conversation with her, so I say the one thing I know will end it. “Either way, I don’t love him.”
Her posture stiffens, and she nods once. “That settles it then.”
I watch her step into the kitchen, opening the slim cabinet near the stove. A white pill bottle is in her hand. I can’t remember the last time I saw Sylvia taking medicine.
“Are you still feeling ill?”
Her brow lines, and she doesn’t smile. “Just a little headache. I’ll be all right.”
I watch as she takes the pill and returns everything to its place. She squeezes my arm as she passes me, headed back to her bedroom. It’s the second time she’s complained of feeling unwell, and I don’t like it. Still, I have no reason to press her, so I head to my room to escape this ridiculous night into sleep.
* * *
Marcus
Amy doesn’t return to the office. She calls in and leaves a message with Charity saying she’ll finish our job from home. As usual, the reason is some excuse about Sylvia needing her. I don’t believe it for a second.
Paige and I meet for lunch two more times this week at the busiest high-end restaurants. I give her approving smiles and hold her hand on top of the table, in full view of all the diners. It’s something I absolutely never do, but no one seems impressed by my sudden change in behavior.