The woman nodded, then forced a smile. “Hmm. Funny, yes.”
She was tall and looked shapeless in her baggy jeans—but not the fashionable kind New York girls wore—and sweatshirt. Her mousy-brown hair and lack of makeup reeked of country.
Cassie left me with our bags and went inside, not bothering to introduce us. She must be Cassie’s employee, if she ran the inn in her absence, though the place looked so desolate I couldn’t imagine anyone paying money to stay here.
At the top of the steps, I put the bags down and held out my hand.
“Hi!” I said. “I’m Olivier. Well, Cassie already said that.”
A bitter smile formed on her lips. “She hasn’t mentioned me.” Her tone was all snark; it wasn’t a question.
I had to make a good impression with Cassie’s circle. They had to believe us when we announced we were married or getting married, whichever way Cassie chose to handle it. We needed witnesses. More proof. A solid case, or as solid it could be when we got married a few days after meeting and so close to my visa expiring.
“How’s business?” I asked, to make conversation. “I bet spring is a busy season.”
She frowned.
“The inn?” I clarified. “Do you have many guests staying here at the moment?”
“The inn’s been closed a long time,” she said blandly.
Then, to my surprise, she reached down to grab Cassie’s bag. No time to recover from the fact that Cassie had lied about running an inn. Or had I misunderstood? The events of the last few days were muddied in my mind.
“I can carry that,” I said quickly.
I tried to take it from her, but her grasp was firm. Then, she headed back inside.
I followed her. “So you are?” I was after a name, something to break the ice.
She didn’t bother turning around. “I’m Cassie’s sister.”
She lookednothinglike Cassie. Her face was angular, with sharp cheekbones, when Cassie’s was round. Cassie was petite with brown eyes, and hers were dark green. I was aware that siblings didn’t necessarily share the same eye color, but that’s not what confused me. Cassie had said she had no family left. So where the hell did the sister come from?
“I look forward to getting to know you,” I said, a little too upbeat.
Geez, that sounded creepy.
She was in the doorframe and turned back to me, a blank expression on her face. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
I stared at her, waiting for a laugh. But there was none. It wasn’t a joke.
Well, fuck, that was weird. But that was only the start of it, because then I walked into the house, where everything was dark.
Chapter 10
Taylor
Now
I’m not going to fool myself: my days in Paris are numbered. I had to book a return flight when I was at the airport and chose five days later. I should be back early enough so I wouldn’t rouse suspicion. Two days in, it’s clear that the honeymoon will be over before I know it.
But for now I have money, a new look, and more clothes than I can wear.
It’s time.
The bathtub is cramped and I ran the water too hot for a summer day, but a few minutes in, my muscles feel like they’re melting. My head rolls against the edge as I try to keep my eyes closed, letting my mind run adrift.
I have so little left over from my childhood—before my mother was taken from me—but my few possessions told me all the stories I wanted to believe: a copy ofLe Petit Princein French and a fine knit blanket with the words “Pour les doux rêves de” embroidered above my name.For the sweet dreams of. There’s also this lullaby that echoes in my head sometimes, though it has faded to almost nothing over the years.
