“Yeah,” she said. “And thank you.”
She broke off a piece of flaky pastry. The dough was delightful, even more so when dipped in the coffee. It’d been hours since they’d eaten. “What do you want to do next?” she asked.
He peered at her from below dark lashes. “Maybe let’s not pick randomly,” he suggested.
The edge eased from her hunger, feeling cared for, she laughed. He joined her.
He proposed options for their remaining free time… before they had to pack for tomorrow’s flight to Nice.
“The underground market tonight,” she requested. When he nodded, she relaxed even more. And why not? She’d survived! Breathing exercises and her mantra had helped. Phoenix had filled her with empathy and care.
She wasn’t ready to admit her biggest realization, not even to herself.
She had fallen head-over-heels for this kind and handsome entrepreneur.
CHAPTER17
AZURE COAST
Phoenix
NICE, FRANCE
“D’accord,” Phoenix assented, when the flight attendant asked him to straighten his seatback and store his tray table. They would soon land in Nice. He absorbed the engines’ hum through the soles of his shoes. Orchid was asleep beside him.
This trip wasn’t like the others.
He and Orchid had spent the last few days together, including two dinners at the underground market. It was as if they were magnetized together, through the sheer force of their circumstances. He knew that even strangers could act like chums, especially when they’re traveling and find someone with a connection to home.
Here in France, Orchid was his link to New York, to the agency world, and to the ad campaign they’d worked on together. Their shared experiences made him feel like she understood him best. When they were no longer tied by proximity, would their thread dissipate, like gossamer, something fragile and only glimpsed in dreams?
He knew that Orchid protected secrets behind an invisible veil. Her mystique didn’t frighten him. Perhaps that was because, as he unraveled each clue, her true nature revealed itself, pure and beautiful.
The plane braked, skidding against momentum along the tarmac. Phoenix braced his thighs against the force that hurled them forward. There were no such brakes for his emotions.
She woke as he pulled their bags down from the overhead compartment.
“Hey.” She slipped on oversized sunglasses, and followed him onto the jet plank.
He felt his face widen in joy, of its own accord. “Are you incognito?” he asked.
She laughed, then started walking towards the signs for public transportation. “My disguise, for when the paparazzi spot you.”
He strode beside her, his pace well-matched to her long legs. “Paparazzi? Hate to break it to you, but there are no fans for agency founders.”
“Maybe one,” she muttered, as if to herself.
He didn’t have time to ask what she meant. Orchid had stopped to look at a map on the wall. Her chin notched up, silver earrings swinging.
“Which line do we take?” she asked.
“Follow me,” he said with a big smile.
He led the way as they took the tram from the terminal into Nice, and then the train for the short trip to Cannes.
On the train, he observed Orchid. Her face was turned, her attention riveted to the scenery rolling by.
“Oh,” she said, as the blue sky revealed itself, without the hazy filter of unwashed station windows.
