“Oh, bummer. I was hoping for the company. My aunt can be a bit much to handle without backup.”
“I’m sorry. William didn’t say anything about the party,” she said, the awkwardness for conversation creeping back in. “I suspect he’ll be gone for about five days.”
“You don’t know how long he’ll be away?”
“Not really ... It’s ... a fluid situation.”
“Well, that’s intriguing. I’m assuming it’s for business.”
“No. Pleasure. It’s complicated,” she brushed off.
“How so?”
“He’s attending a Sotheby’s auction ... for a painting for me.”
“Aaand, you didn’t want to go to Paris?”
“What girl wouldn’t? But ... sometimes you have to do the right thing, even if it means sacrificing the very thing you always thought would bring you absolute happiness,” she bemoaned.
“Ah, the old ‘choose the harder right, instead of the easier wrong’ thing.”
“Huh? That doesn’t sound like something I usually ascribe to.”
“You’re saying thatnotgoing to Paris—every woman’s dream—with your billionaire fiancé is for a greater purpose, which could possibly make you unhappy?”
“He’s meeting up with our art broker ... his ex-girlfriend.”
Shocked, he examined her face. “Aaand, again, you’re okay with that?”
“I arranged it.” She gazed out the window at the passing shops along Fifth Avenue.
“Curiouser and curiouser,” he said shaking his head.
Thankfully, he ended the direction of questions.
For the rest of the drive, they remained pensively silent, each in their thoughts, but always glancing at the other with a reassuring smile.
“Okay, so I just have to ask—what the hell is Darcy thinking, leaving his beautiful, talented fiancée here in New York to go off with his ex-girlfriend six weeks before your wedding?” he asked, before chomping on a curry short rib.
“It’s not like that. Darcy’s too noble to cheat on me.”
“Seriously, you don’t care about this girl?”
“Of course I do. Like I said earlier ... it’s complicated.”
“Then I’ll just say it. You’re marrying my cousin for his money, aren’t you?”
Stunned, she glanced up from her noodles at his raw, honest expression. Not one of censure, but more just making a point.
“Um, I agreed to a friendly lunch, not a character assassination.”
“Forgive me, but I’ve never been one to beat around the bush. I should have at least waited until dessert. I don’t want to see Darcy—or you—hurt. It’s the protector in me.”
“Rest assured, I have no desire to hurt him. Apart from my brother, he’s the best man I know.”
“Now I’m really confused. Honestly, I don’t mean to be rude, but if you’re okay with him in Paris—the City of Love?with his ex, I can only assume youdon’tlove him. I have yet to meet a woman who isn’t insanely jealous of ex-girlfriends.”
She smiled, appreciating his concern and, frankly, wasn’t as affronted as she should be. “I do love Darcy—in a way. I used to love him differently, but since our engagement ... things have changed.”
