She gives me a kiss on my forehead. “Your sister’s already asleep. And I’m tired. Just wanted to say good night to you. Don’t go too hard on your father. He only wants you safe.”
Then I’m left alone with the man who raised me, the man I trust the most, love the most—and the man who’s most intimidating. Only London has ever brought men home, and they’ve always been terrified. He’s never hurt me, never raised a hand to me. Never even yelled, but then again, I’ve never broken a rule. That’s always been my sister’s job.
I sit at the glass table across from him. “Would it help my case to point out that I did actually get home before midnight?”
He doesn’t look impressed. “Curfew only applies to home. Your mom only said that so I wouldn’t be furious with you.”
My heart drops. “Are you? Furious?”
“Ah, Holly bear. You were my little girl. My baby. And then I come back to the hotel to find that you went out, no note, no message, nothing.”
I manage not to glance at my phone. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“Evie convinced me not to,” he says, glancing at the bedroom door where my mother’s probably getting ready for bed. Don’t be too hard on your father, she said. As if I have the power. “She said you’d be home by curfew, and that we could trust you.”
Guilt sears my insides because they can’t trust me. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Where did you go?”
Frantically I try to think of something, but I really am a terrible liar. My mind conjures up things like I climbed the outside of the Eiffel Tower. Or I went to an underground poker ring. Not believable. Not better than the truth, either. “I went out with a boy I met at the museum.”
He pauses for a moment. Nods. The action reminds me of Elijah, actually. They don’t look alike, but they share a kind of decisiveness. A quiet strength. “His name?”
“Elijah.” I flush as I realize I don’t know his last name. I let him kiss me and considered doing more with him, without knowing his last name. He told the restaurant Smith but somehow I doubt that’s his real name.
“Did you think what would have happened if you disappeared? If he took you to some private place, drugged you, hurt you? We wouldn’t even have known where to look.”
My stomach turns over. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be scared of the world. Evie was raised that way, and it made her more vulnerable to the dangers, not less. But you also have to understand that there are dangers.”
“My mother trusted you, and that wasn’t a mistake.” They met when she was on a road trip, and he worked as a trucker. It was love at first sight, and they drove together to Niagara Falls. They’ve told the story to me and London.
He looks grim. “Yes, it really was.”
Elijah’s words come back to me, and I shiver. You should know better than to talk to someone like me. You should be afraid of me. And most of all, you shouldn’t trust me.
He sighs. “Your mother was lucky she lived, being off on her own. But she didn’t have a family who loved her. Her mother put the fear of God in her, tried to keep her locked up tight. I don’t want to do that to you, but I also have a need to protect you.”
Shame makes my throat tight. “I really am sorry.”
“I know you’re getting to the age where boys will chase you—”
“This was definitely a one-time thing. Boys are always into London anyway.”
“Your sister’s outgoing, and boys like that. She flatters them. The unfortunate thing is that attracts a bunch of weak assholes who want her to make them feel good.”
“So I make them feel bad?”
“You’re yourself. And boys your age aren’t usually able to appreciate that.”
My cheeks flush. I remember the brightness of Elijah’s eyes as he told me I was a goddamn delight. He appreciated me. And then later, in the alley, he appreciated every part of me.
“Do I even want to know how old this guy is?”
“Not that old,” I say defensively. “Not like thirty or something.”
Dad shakes his head. “I’m grateful you’re safe, even if I did lose a few years of my life waiting up for you. Please ask me next time you want to go out. I can’t promise I’ll say yes, but I can promise that I’ll consult with your mother before I say no.”
I go over to kiss his cheek, and he pulls me in for a hug. His voice is low in my ear. “Don’t you ever let a boy hurt you, Holly bear. You wait for the one who understands you. He’s out there.”
As I pull back, he puts out his hand.
“However,” he says, “there are consequences.”
London has had to turn in her phone lots of times. This is the first time I have to dig into my pocket and pull out my iPhone. It occurs to me as I place it in his palm that the worst part isn’t not being able to text friends. The worst part is knowing that he doesn’t trust me anymore.
When I go upstairs I shower and drag myself into bed.
It was my first date with a boy, but somehow I feel more alone than ever.
CHAPTER SIX
The next day I wake up to my mother’s voice calling up the stairs.
Our private tour departs at seven a.m. We’re going to see the Reims Cathedral and taste genuine champagne, but I’m still dreaming about eclairs and green eyes as I drag myself to the shower. I’m back in my ordinary, boring clothes with my backpack slung over my shoulder.
We climb into the black SUV with a personal driver and tour guide sitting up front.
The guide with a strong French accent tells us about the cathedral where all but two of the French kings were crowned. “But first we will visit Veuve Clicquot for a personal tour of the unique chalkstone cellars.” When my dad’s not looking, he gives my sister a wink. “We’ll learn about the young woman Madame Barbe Clicquot Ponsardin, who built a champagne empire.”
Her eyes go wide. “A champagne empire.”
He nods, looking very knowledgeable. And interested. He’s actually young enough. Eighteen? Nineteen? Maybe the same age as Elijah, but there’s something more boyish about him. I suspect he and my sister will become accidentally separated from the group at some point.
There’s still another hour to go on our drive, so we settle into a companionable silence, each of them on their phones. Dad and Mom cuddle on one of the seats while my sister and I lounge with our legs tangled up on the other side. We may be opposites in every way, but we’re still best friends. I’m the only one phone-less, so I stare out the window.
My mother sits up a little straighter across from me. “Honey, did you see this?”
Dad glances over, still stroking her hair. “What’s that?”
“The Louvre. Someone stole something.”
My sister shoots up. “While we were there?”
Mom scans her phone. “It says they aren’t sure of the time, only that it happened yesterday while the museum was open. So yes, it might have been while we were there.”
“Cool,” London says.
“It’s all very Indiana Jones,” Mom says. “Apparently the real thing was switched out with a fake, and they didn’t discover it until doing rounds the next morning.”