“Never mind all that shit I said just now. You’re right, it’s terrible advice. I was only trying to make you laugh.” I offer her a wan smile and she chortles. “Good lord, that bad, huh?”
“Don’t worry about it. I love you anyway.”
“Love you too.” She blows out a slow sigh, her gaze dropping to her watch. “I guess I should get back to work.”
I nod. “Sure, okay. I want to head over to the studio for a while.”
If there’s one thing I can count on to clear my head and set me back to rights, it’s sitting in front of my easel with a paintbrush in hand. I slide off the barstool and Tasha follows, hopping down off hers to embrace me in another warm hug.
She steps back, pointing her finger at me. “If you’re free on Sunday, Tony’s mom is making her famous chicken cacciatore. Wanna come? You know it’s to die for.”
I can’t remember the last home-cooked meal I’ve had, and Tasha’s mother-in-law makes some of the best. My stomach practically growls in agreement. “I’d love to. Thanks.”
“Great. Inez will be glad to see you at the table with us again. Zoe too. She misses her Auntie Avery.”
“I can’t wait to be there.”
We say our goodbyes and I’m smiling with anticipation as I head out the door to the sunny summer afternoon outside. I see the sleek black BMW M6 standing at the curb in front of me, but at first it seems like a mirage. A trick of this vast city, where it isn’t unusual to see vehicles worth many hundreds of thousands of dollars idling at traffic lights or speeding along the gridwork of boulevards.
But this particular vehicle is one I’ve been inside numerous times, one I know all too well.
The driver’s side door opens, and my feet slow beneath me as I watch Dominic Baine step out. He’s not dressed in his business armor of a bespoke suit and tie today, but even sporting a basic white T-shirt and well-worn jeans, he still carries himself like a man who could—and probably does—own a healthy chunk of the bustling city that surrounds him.
He says nothing, merely watches me from over the gleaming roof of the car.
All the air in my lungs flees as I realize this is no chance meeting like the other two times I’ve seen him in the past week. No, he’s come to Vendange deliberately, possibly even been waiting outside for some time. The way he’s looking at me as he waits for my acknowledgment leaves no doubt about that.
He’s here right now for one reason.
Me.
Chapter 6
Avery’s bright smile fades the moment her eyes land on me.
Whatever joy she’d been feeling is gone in an instant, snuffed out and cold. For the brief second she pauses on the sidewalk outside Vendange, all I see in her beautiful face is pain and confusion, suspicion.
I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, I’m the one who’s done this to her.
Not only that morning in Paris, but more recently too.
She doesn’t even attempt to conceal her displeasure as she turns away from me without so much as a word. She starts heading up the sidewalk in the opposite direction of me.
“Avery, wait.”
Her pace doesn’t slow at all. I bite off a curse as I cut the M6’s engine and close the door. There’s no parking on this section of the street, but the last thing I’m worried about is a paltry ticket or a tow. Rounding the front of the vehicle, I catch up to her in a few determined strides.
“Avery.” I step ahead, then turn to face her. My body blocks her immediate path, the only thing that seems to make her stop. “Goddamn it, don’t go.”
My voice sounds too raw, enough to make her gaze snap up to mine in alarm. I rein it in with a scowl. It’s astonishing how quickly she can rattle my self-control. Then again, it shouldn’t surprise me. This woman has twisted me into knots from the first moment I laid eyes on her.
Gritting my teeth against the urge to physically hold her in place, I try again. “Don’t run f
rom me. Please.”
She doesn’t try to, but she glares in defiance, her lips flattened into a tight line. “What are you trying to do, Nick?”
“I want to talk to you.”