Inwardly, I’d flinched. Since I had no social life to speak of, my father hadn’t been forced to acknowledge my sexuality. I suspected he thought I’d been going through a phase or that it had been a turbulent time with the accident and Mom’s death.
“Yes, I’m going for him. Because I love him. I’ve never stopped loving him, Dad.”
My father had pursed his lips. “What about the shop?”
“It’s handled. I won’t be gone long.” I hugged him close. “Watch over Amelia, okay?”Be her dad for a while.“And take care of yourself.”
He’d chuckled through a perplexed frown at my seriousness. “Of course. I’ll be here when you get back.”
I looked at the den with its food wrappers, the recliner he’d turned into a bed, and the NFL Network blaring constantly.
That’s what I’m afraid of.
***
The plane touched down, and I fumbled my way through the airport, looking like the jet-lagged American I was, to my hotel in the eighth arrondissement. The hotel was small and dark, with no elevator and a shared bathroom down the hall, but it was all I could afford after dropping a small fortune on a last-minute flight. My room was nothing more than a bed, a tiny table and chair, and peeling green wallpaper that looked like it’d been new in 1950.
After a short nap on the springy bed, I showered and changed into jeans, a fresh T-shirt, boots, and a worn, brown leather jacket. My heart was crashing in my chest so loudly I was sure my taxi driver could hear it as he took me to Le Bristol Hotel.
The hotel was a white behemoth of classic French architecture with bursts of red flowers overflowing from every wrought iron balcony. A far cry from my little place down the road.
“A fine hotel,” my cabbie said as I counted out the euros for his fare. “One of the best in Paris.”
“How much per night?” I asked.
“Depends,” he said. “Room or suite?”
“Suite,” I said, smiling fondly. Holden Parish wouldn’t be caught slumming it in a regular hotel room. Even in a five-star hotel.
“Mm, maybe ten thousand euros per night.” The cabbie grinned with obvious pride. “Very nice hotel.”
My stomach did flips as the cab pulled up to the hotel’s elegant entrance. I paid the cabbie while a man in a maroon uniform opened the door for me.
“Uh, thanks,” I said.
I handed him a two-euro coin. It didn’t feel like enough, but Ireminded myself I’d just paid him two bucks to open a door. I’d entered a different world at Le Bristol Hotel. The polished lobby floor was so gleaming, I was afraid I’d scuff it with my work boots or drag grease from the auto body shop.
I went to the concierge.
“Can I help you, monsieur?” the man in an impeccable suit asked in English before I could speak.
“Am I that obvious?” I asked with a smirk. “I’m here to see Holden Parish.” Suddenly, I was on the damn verge of tears just from saying the words. I cleared my throat. “Is he here?”
Please, God, let him still be here.
The concierge smiled thinly. “Indeed. But I’m afraid I cannot let nonguests up to the floors without invitation. Your name?”
“River Whitmore.”
“A moment.” He picked up a sleek black phone and pressed a button. “Monsieur Parish? Monsieur River Whitmore vous attend à la réception.” He listened, at one time pulling the phone away from his ear, wincing slightly. “Très bien, monsieur.” He hung up and fixed me with a tight smile. “He’ll be right down.”
I blew out a steadying breath and jammed my hands in my pockets, pacing a small circle over the perfectly polished floor. Elegant men and women came in and out; others sat at small tables over cocktails and coffee.
Ten minutes went by. Then twenty. Then forty-five. I was about to try again with the concierge when the elevator opened with a refinedbing, and Holden was there.
His hair was still silver and damp from a fresh shower. He wore impeccably tailored white slacks, a white shirt, and—despite the warm spring day—a black vest and a black-and-white-striped jacket. My breath caught, and my blood heated instantly.
The absence had only made him more fucking perfect, his body filling out his clothes better, his shoulders and chest broader. But his green eyes were shadowed and red-rimmed. The last year had been filled with alcohol, late nights, and parties.
