She removed the last two pins, shoved them into her hair, fixed her hat in place, and repeated, “I Googled him. Justice. But it doesn’t help, because nobody knows how to find him. He’s not listed anywhere—not as Justice, not as Justin Olejniczak. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“You’re not the only one who’s tried. He’s made himself impossible to find. If I want a meeting, I have to contact his agent, in fact, and—”
“Wait, you can get a meeting with him? You can get me a meeting?”
“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t think I can.”
“But even if you just gave me a number—”
“I called him an ‘associate.’ I probably should have called him my ‘client.’ I work for the firm that manages his accounts, and even that is something I might be fired for telling you.”
“For-real fired?”
“Well, perhaps not fired. It’s my family’s firm. But reprimanded, fined, suspended? Most definitely. And that’s if I told a random stranger, or someone from the press. That’s not for telling my wealthy client’s unacknowledged illegitimate daughter how to find him. I’m afraid I can’t quite imagine what sort of trouble that would bring me.”
His forehead wrinkled when he worried. He looked so sorry for her. Sorry that she’d brought this dilemma to him, dropped the mess of her life in his lap. Sorry he was having to hand it back over, a pile of crap wrapped up in brown paper and tied with twine.
And she understood that perfectly well. She understood his response was the right one and all he could be was sorry, but she still wanted to grab him and shake him until more help fell out. They were chess pieces in some game the universe was playing with her life, and she wanted more from him—wanted him to have walked into this bar for the express purpose of connecting all the dots for her, clearing her path, and making this shit easy.
It was infuriating to have to be an adult about this of all things. Tonight of all nights.
“I want to help,” he said. “It’s complicated.”
Allie sighed. It was the kind of sigh that took everything with it, every last scrap of the energy she’d been burning through to get herself here, to fuel her crazy evening, and left her exhausted and aware of exactly how much she’d had to drink. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve done more than I ever could have expected. I think most guys would have tagged out somewhere around when I asked you to pretend to make out with me.”
“Most guys don’t know what they’re missing.”
“Yeah?” That made her smile, a little. “You’re all right, Winston Chamberlain.”
She stood, and he followed suit, brushing the knee of his trousers. She handed him his jacket and put on her own, belting her trench coat tightly.
Finally, she put on her sunglasses, dropping the room into shadows, making everything a little farther away and less important.
“You take the rest of the bottle, okay? I don’t think it’s a good look for a single girl in a trench to carry a half-empty bottle of whiskey through the streets. It doesn’t really say ‘chic French spy.’ It’s more like ‘wino,’ you know?”
He glanced at his phone. “It’s late to be walking the streets. Can I give you a lift somewhere?”
“Actually, I still have to figure out where I’m going. Have you got any hotel recommendations nearby?”
He frowned. “You don’t have a room?”
“Don’t look like that. I hoped I’d be done by now. Find my mom, wave a magic wand, shove her on the first plane home.”
“But you brought things with you. A toothbrush, change of clothes…?”
“Don’t worry, mailman. My bag’s behind the bar. I’ll grab it.”
Allie ducked through the crowd and retrieved her suitcase. The sunglasses helped. Everything seemed distant, her mother and Justice both pieces of a puzzle she couldn’t be expected to solve tonight.
Winston appeared behind her. “You’re upset with me,” he said. “You’ve every right to be.”
“I’m not upset with you.”
“You have to understand, from my position—”
She put her hand right in the middle of his chest. It shocked her how hot he felt, even through his shirt.
She tipped her head back to meet his eyes. “Thank you. You were great. Really super incredibly great. I’m just—I’m going to let you go now. Back to doing your Winston things.”