As I walk across the bridge to my side of the river, there’s no denying the lightness within me. The relief. Maybe this is what I needed to do all along. To stand my ground. To fight for what’s mine. Whatshouldbe mine.
By the time I reach my hotel, everything feels clear to me. This is a trial run. I’m not done with Cassie yet. Not done at all.
Chapter 17
Cassie
Now
“Remember how I made plans to catch up with some of my ex-colleagues while I’m in town?” Olivier says, slowly swirling his glass by the stem and bringing it to his nose. “Well, I thought maybe you’d like a night to yourself. I feel like you could use some space.”
“Oh.” I do remember, vaguely, though I’ve lost track of the days since we got here. “Thursday, you’d said,” I say more to myself.
He takes it as a question. “Yes! I wouldn’t be out late, just for a drink or two—”
“You should go! I mean,definitelygo.”
“Unless you want to come—” He takes a sip, his Adam’s apple bulging in his throat as the liquid goes down.
“No!” I say a little too loudly. “I mean, I’m feeling kind of tired anyway.”
This is perfect. Even more perfect: my phone rings. It must be the airline, calling back early.
“Sorry, I have to take this,” I say with a coy smile, getting up.
I walk toward the back of the café, out of earshot from Olivier, who keeps glancing at me as the customer service agent asks how he can help me. I explain my situation—I want to fly home early, no big deal!—buthe tells me that I didn’t book changeable flights. If I want to fly back on a different date, I’ll have to pay for a whole new one-way ticket.
“I can do this right now for you,” the agent announces gaily, like he’s being so helpful.
“I already paid for that flight. What does it matter if I go back earlier?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t make changes to your current ticket, but it will only take a few minutes to book a new one. When would you like to fly?”
I’d have to go get my wallet; Olivier might ask questions. He keeps biting his lower lip as he tries to discreetly look in my direction. I still can’t tell if he bought my lie about speaking to Taylor earlier on the phone, and I shouldn’t push my luck.
“I’ll do it online. Thanks for nothing.”
I hang up and return to our table, downing the rest of my wine without sitting down.
“Taylor again?” Olivier says, an eyebrow raised.
I nod, then place my empty glass on the table a little too forcefully. “We should go, no? You don’t want to keep your friends waiting.”
That’s when I notice that the shiny strap is no longer dangling from the back of my chair.
“My Chanel!” I say, my mouth going dry.
“What’s wrong?” Olivier says.
“My bag’s gone.”
“I’m sure it’s somewhere around here.”
He gets up, then starts looking around on the floor.
“I can’t believe this. Someone stole my bag!” I raise my voice, commanding attention.
“Um, excusez-moi?” the man at the next table says a moment later. “You’re looking for this?” He lifts his hand to show us what he’s holding: my Chanel.
