My head was spinning. I needed tothink. “I’m busy. Go ask Jo.”
“She turned me down.”
Of course. I would never, ever come first with him.
“Go away, Trey. I’m not your consolation prize.”
“Never that,” he said.
But I had been, once.
CHAPTER 7
Amy
Paris, Then
I’ll call you,” Trey had said when he left me at Chloe’s apartment last night. Obligatory guy speak forgood-bye. He was never going to call, he was taken. Or he wasn’t that into me. Besides, he was on his way to Modena.
But all the rationalizations in the world didn’t stop me from checking my phone every five minutes like a crazy obsessed teenager. And when his number flashed on the screen, I jumped on it likeProject Runwaywas calling.
“Trey! Where are you?”
“I’m at the hotel. I thought we could hang out today.”
Yes. Wait. “What about your meeting at the Ferrari factory?”
“I put it off. When you’ve got money, they’ll wait for you.”
His cynicism bothered me a little. I wasn’t going to criticize him. Not when there was a chance we could spend more time together. But... “I don’t wait for anybody,” I said.
“That’s my girl,” he said, his voice warm and amused. Or maybe,Thattagirl? Over the phone, it was hard to tell. “I can be there in twenty minutes. Let me feed you. Take you shopping.”
“The shops are closed. It’s Bastille Day.”
“So we’ll watch the parade. There’s got to be a parade somewhere.”
“Or a demonstration,” I said. This was Paris, after all.
“Whatever you want,” he said, still with that smile in his voice. “I’m all yours.”
Even though he didn’t mean that, not the way I wanted him to, the words were like a dream come true.Pinch me.
I clutched the phone, ridiculously happy. “There’s a military parade on the Champs-Élysées. And a concert and fireworks tonight at the Eiffel Tower. We could picnic.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Unless you’d rather not,” I added.Because of Jo. The words stuck in my throat.
“Sounds like fun. It’s a date.”
“Good.” My face, my grip, my whole body, relaxed. “Great. That’s great. Like homecoming.”
“A familiar face,” Trey said.
He was that, a reassuring reminder of home. But he was more. “No, I meant high school homecoming.” Our first date. “You took me to the dance? I was fourteen.”
“Right. I forgot about that.”
