“Why are you up so early?” I accepted a plate of the stewed tomatoes and eggs with glee.
“A model dropped out of the Ralph Lauren shoot in England.” She burned herself on the pan and cursed savagely in Italian. “I have to be there by tomorrow.”
“You don’t seem too enthused and that doesn’t really explain the early start.”
I had never been to England but I did know Cosima had worked there for a year after leaving Napoli.
“I hate England.” She shrugged with one shoulder. “I couldn’t sleep thinking about it.”
“That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it? I mean the entire country?” I grinned at her. “What did the Brits ever do to you?”
Her smile was uncharacteristically thin. “It’s a smaller country than you’d think.”
My phone lit up with a text from Sinclair. “I have to go.”
I hopped out of my seat, shoveling another mouthful of tomato and eggy goodness into my mouth before pulling on my green gumboots. I spun around to give Cosima a hug but she was already beside me, arms open.
Love bloomed in my chest like a prize-winning rose.
“If I don’t see you before you leave, I’ll miss you.” I said, stepping into her spicy scented embrace.
“I will be back in three days, if it was for any other line I wouldn’t be going at all.” She pressed a fragrant kiss to my cheek. “Now, be safe and enjoy your day. Sinclair can be a charming bastard when he wants to, I’m sure you will have a grand adventure.”
I smiled slightly but her remark hit a little too close to home. She watched me with a curious smile as I collected my bag and slipped into an emerald green raincoat. Even after I had closed the door and descended into the lobby and out onto the street, I could still feel her eyes on me as if she had implanted a tracking device.
Happily, all thoughts of my sister fled when I saw Sinclair in a gorgeous orange Porsche idling at the curb. I squealed as I slid into the low two-seat car and swung to face him with a large grin. “This is the coolest car I have ever seen.”
His small smile and sparkling eyes made me giddy. “It’s a 964 series Singer Porsche 911.”
At my blank look, he grinned boyishly as he gunned the throaty engine and pulled into the pre-dawn traffic. “I spent my early years in an orphanage in Nice, Giselle. I practically grew up watching beautiful cars drive by.”
“Never close enough to touch,” I murmured, half question and half comfort as I fingered the pale buttery leather seats.
He shrugged but there was tightness around his eyes.
“I was not poor for long.” He changed lanes and shot me a glance. “They found me when I was sixteen years old. Took me after two weeks of visitation.”
“Love at first sight?”
His mouth twisted. “Willa was looking for the next big thing in Paris and they took a vacation to the South, as if being in Paris wasn’t vacation enough. She found Cage and I smoking in an alley and invited us for a drink. She was beautiful.” He shrugged but his muscles were too tense to pull it off. “I thought maybe she wanted to sleep with me. It happened sometimes.”
“They didn’t have to adopt you?”
“No, not really and they didn’t right away. You know they took both of us in, Cage and me, but I was the one they kept. Sometimes I wonder if Cage hates me for it, but I’m the one that ended up with their bullshit.”
“Wow.” I blinked a few times as I digested the tide of information. “So you and Cage really have known each other forever. Did he go to America with you when you moved?”
“No, he stayed in Paris. They let him stay with their maid in their pied a terre. We visited every Christmas but I haven’t lived in France since I was seventeen.”
“Do you miss it?” I asked.
I did every day and I had only lived there for five years.
“Yes and no. I think of myself as American now. It is this land that has sustained me. I will always love France, nearly everything is better there.” I smiled at his typical French patriotism. “But I left many things there that are best left alone.”
I bit my lip and stared out the window, debating whether to continue questioning him about his parents. I was so curious to know everything about him but I didn’t want to romanticize him further or make him uncomfortable.
But, as was always the case when I was around Sinclair, I couldn’t help myself. “So, Willa represented you?”