I didn’t have those answers and I wouldn’t get them. Not ever. Because Rodney was gone. For good.
But Trey was here.
Not now, of course. Now it was just me and the girls who were upstairs focusing quietly on their individual hobbies, leaving me with nothing to do but clean and obsess. Obsess over what would happen if I decided to throw myself into this thing with Trey full force. Would he find the same thing Rodney had, that one fatal flaw that had driven him away?
Would I become a two-time loser?
Sometime after eight the phone rang and I rushed to it, thinking something might be wrong with Pippa. “Hello?”
“Hey sexy, it’s great to hear your voice.”
Trey. “Long day?”
“The longest day ever recorded in modern history.” Even his groan sounded exhausted. “Long and boring. Tell me about your day with the girls.”
A slow smile spread across my face, and I felt my body relax into the sofa the moment I sat down. “It was long, but certainly not boring. Did you know that you’re safer in a random city such as Paris than at home in Carson Creek, because statistically speaking, the person likely to kill you lives in your town?”
“Um, no?” Trey’s confused laugh was endearing.
“I know, right? Well, that was Keri’s response when I asked her if she was worried about you all the way over there in France.”
“Oh,” he sighed. “I thought you were trying to tell me that I was in danger when I get back.”
“Nope. You’re perfectly safe.” Though I had to wonder if my heart would be safe with him. “Are you at a party?” I regretted the question before I’d even finished asking it, but it was hard to ignore the sounds of silverware clanking against plates, dozens of conversations in the background and laughter. Lots and lots of laughter.
“Partying? No.” He chuckled and I could see his beautiful smile in my mind’s eye. “The train was so crowded, and after being poked and prodded all day, I wasn’t in the mood for that much human contact, so I decided to walk.”
Walking through the streets of Paris sounded like he was living the dream while I was stuck in small town America doing mommy things. “Sounds like a party.”
Trey chuckled. “That’s Paris for yah. It’s that time of night where all the outdoor seats of every café are full. Friends and lovers are meeting up to share laughs and a bottle or two of wine and cigarettes. Think of it as citywide happy hour.”
“Sounds amazing.”
“It is,” he agreed with an easy laugh. “Unless you’re walking through miles of cigarette smoke just to get back to the hotel.”
“Does that mean you’re not missing your old job?” I had to ask the question, no matter how needy it made me sound.
“I’m enjoying the reminder that once upon a time I was good at something, but surprisingly I don’t miss it at all. I found myself asking if it was always this ridiculous, or is it my time away causing this reaction.” His words were so matter-of-fact, as if he was almost amused by his observation.
“Did you find an answer?”
“Sadly, no. But I did enjoy being photographer’s pet all day, catching the light and nailing my angles while the young bucks needed multiple shots to get it right.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Your life is so strange.”
“Former life,” he sighed heavily. “This trip solidified that this is no longer my life, and I’m fine with that. I just wish I knew what was next for me, professionally speaking.”
“You’re not even technically retired yet Trey, give yourself time. Is this because you’re sick of being my photo assistant?”
“What? No, it’s not about that at all. I love that I get to dabble in photography while I spend time with you. We both know you don’t need me now that you’ve found your confidence.”
“Who says I have?”
He deep amused laughter was just the balm I needed to soothe my battered soul. Too much time second-guessing myself about Rodney, and then Trey had left me feeling a little beaten up, but his laugh was amazing and it helped. A lot.
“Your photos, that’s who.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that Trey wasn’t just too good to be true, because from the perspective of a middle-aged single mother, he was just that. Too good to be true. “If you say so.”
“I do.” He sighed and the sounds of conversation and laughter grew louder, making me wonder if he was being honest. “I wish you were here with me, Val. I would love to hold your hand and watch the sunset from the Eiffel Tower.”
“Sounds like you’re having fun without me.”
“Valona,” he began, but whatever he was about to say had been cut off by a loud horn followed by a crash. “Asshole! Watch where you’re going! Are you okay ma’am?”