She wasn’t wrong. The weather was absolutely perfect, warm enough to roll up my sleeves but with enough clouds to offer intermittent shade, and after being cooped up in a hotel the past few days I had to admit it was nice to get out and drive around. We had the windows down and the whole city seemed to greet us as we passed.
After a while, we decided to park the car and began to explore. I was glad I had worn comfortable shoes as we trekked up and down the city’s narrow, cobblestone streets. We walked past Parliament, where Oksana told me the crown jewels were kept. We passed the cupola that would take visitors up to St. Stephen’s Basilica, a famous cathedral. My favorite, however, was the Fisherman’s Bastion, a castle-like construction of white stone defense walls built by the fisherman’s guild in the Middle Ages. With its turret and crenelated battlements, it looked like something from a fairytale.
“Do you like my city?” Oksana asked as we walked along the Danube. “It is called the Paris of the East, you know.”
I could see why it was called that. I could’ve spent weeks there, just taking everything in.
Instead, as we stopped for lunch, I knew I had to focus on my other type of exploring. Exploring what made Stefan tick.
We sat down at a charming café, where Oksana switched to rapid Hungarian to speak to the staff, who took our menus before I even had a chance to look at them—not that I would have been able to read the names of the dishes anyway.
“I ordered for us,” Oksana said. “I hope you don’t mind.”
I shook my head. “Not at all. I’m grateful to have you here to show me everything.”
I might have been laying it on a little thick, but she seemed more than happy to receive the praise.
“So…have you been working for KZ Modeling for a long time?” I asked casually as we waited for our food to arrive.
“Yes. A very long time,” she said.
So she was one of KZM’s talents. That made sense. What didn’t make sense was that this extremely beautiful and seemingly in-demand model was spending her day shuttling me around Budapest.
“Do you live here in Budapest?” I asked her.
“Not anymore,” she said, looking down at the table. “I am mostly in New York or Los Angeles. But I was here for work. Very lucky for you, yes?”
I nodded. “Very lucky.”
Even though she was still smiling, I noticed the more questions I asked, the less likely she was to make eye contact. I didn’t like it. She was hiding something.
“Stefan tells me so little about his work,” I said, adding a flippant little laugh at the end of my sentence. “It must be a very glamorous job to spend all day long with models.”
Oksana shrugged. “Stefan is a good man,” she said.
That was one thing she kept saying. Obviously, there was some sort of connection between her and Stefan. I just couldn’t figure out what it was.
“He must be a very good boss as well,” I tried.
Oksana nodded vigorously. “Very good,” she said. “He always knows the best clubs and restaurants to go to. Last night we—”
“Last night?” I echoed, incredulous.
She immediately shut her mouth, looking anxious.
I was furious. Had Stefan been with Oksana last night? Is that why he had blown off the dinner I had arranged for us? To be with this model—his mistress?
I narrowed my eyes at her. Who was this woman? She’d been so nice to me all day…was it just out of guilt because she was sleeping with my husband? Or did I have it all wrong?
Before I could figure out how to best confront her, however, our food arrived. I’d never seen a model so happy to eat before. I did my best to eat as well, but I was too upset to enjoy it. We finished lunch in silence. As we were getting ready to go, my phone rang.
It was Stefan.
Annoyingly, my heart gave a little lurch. Even though I was pissed at him, I was still happy that he was calling. Not that I was going to let him know that.
I answered, fully prepared to say that I didn’t appreciate him sending me out sightseeing with one of his mistresses and that I was done being treated this way. But before I even finished saying hello, Stefan’s low, deep voice came over the line.
“Tori, I’m so sorry to tell you this. It’s your father. He’s had a heart attack.”
