What did I spend money on? I supposed clothes, but that wasn’t a choice. I didn’t love clothes or even want that many around. It was more like a necessity. Truthfully, I had no idea. I didn’t really spend on things.
That was funny. I’d never thought about that before.
“Come on.” He handed me a helmet. “Let’s go. Put your arms around my waist and hold on tight. When I lean in a direction, you lean that way, too.”
That sounded easy enough.
I did just as he said, and soon we were on the road. Although there was some traffic, he seemed to know where to go to avoid it, and I could see why he loved this. I leaned against his back and held on, squeezing him if I got nervous. The wind was fantastic as it whipped at our bodies, and by the time he pulled into a space, my heart raced, and I wanted to keep going. Was it possible to just ride like that forever and ever?
We were near the hotel with the birds, but instead of going in, we entered a café. Everyone lifted their heads to greet him, speaking fast and loudly. They had smiles on their faces. Zeke took my helmet and set it next to his in the corner as he took what I bet was his regular table.
A waitress came over and greeted Zeke with warmth, kissing him on both cheeks. She briefly regarded me, but not for long, and then disappeared into the kitchen.
“This is really nice.” It was a warm décor with about a dozen small tables that didn’t seat more than four at a time. Mostly they were two headers. Two coffees appeared before us as well as the carafe where I guessed we could pour more into our own cups if we wanted. I appreciated the coffee. I wasn’t big on eating breakfast. Well, I usually had something. But after all the eating we did yesterday, it would be fine to skip.
“It’s a favorite. Everyone in Paris has a favorite café. This is mine. I eat here every day.”
Someone across the place said something, and Zeke smiled before he shouted something back. “Why this one instead of any other?”
A basket was placed in front of us, and this time, the waitress stared at me longer. I made eye contact with her. Was she waiting for me to understand something that had been said? Because I really didn’t have a clue.
She pointed at me, and Zeke nodded, this time answering her in English. “Yes, this is Layla. She doesn’t speak French.”
“Oh.” The woman clapped her hands together. I took a long look at her. She was beautiful and sparkled in that way that French women did. Was it in the water? “Yes, I follow you. Yesterday you ah…”
I finished for her. “Ran around Paris in a wedding dress. Yes, that was me.”
She laughed. “But now I understand. New York socialite. You are sleeping with Zeke. You leave your fiancé. It all makes sense.”
Did it? I almost corrected her, but that was what we were saying. I was supposed to be dating Zeke, which would mean I had thrown over Kit for him. Wow. I’d really not thought that through. It was going to piss off the Allards to no end. There were all kinds of ramifications to this I hadn’t considered. Yes, it might hurt Kit, but I doubted it. But Mrs. Allard? Oh, yes, she was going to be mad. Laura was going to have a fit.
And maybe any chance she’d give that exorbitant amount of money to my father would go away permanently. It might have already, but still…if she’d considered doing it despite my blunder, she wouldn’t now.
In the light of day, with exhaustion not weighing on me, I could see this much more clearly. But there was no question that Ezekiel Scott understood it perfectly. I’d agreed to this. So in for a penny, in for a pound. Or euro, as the case happened to be.
I put out my hand across the table. If we were a couple, Zeke should take it. For his part, he didn’t hesitate. The man I was about to create an elaborate lie with caressed my skin with his thumb. He had hard, callused fingers, like he used his hands and not like he regularly got manicures. I stared at his nails. They were clean but not polished.
“I’ll be right back.” The waitress turned and rushed off.
With his free hand, Zeke pointed to the basket. “Eat.”
I hadn’t realized that the basket was loaded with pastries. Wow. That was a lot of carbs. I stared at it. Zeke let go of my hand. “Going to make me feed you?”
No, not in public. I had to draw a line about how far I was willing to go in that direction. Instead of eating, I sipped my coffee. It was delicious, already creamed. I tended to drink mine black, but this was fine. Better than that. Outstandingly tasty.
“We have a lot of things to do today, Layla. We have to clothe you, and then you have to come out with me tonight. And we have to talk about your future. None of that is going to happen with an empty stomach. Would you rather have some eggs?”
I took out the croissant. “The eating thing can’t be a constant issue between us. I don’t eat very much. I’m not naturally…thin. But I need to stay that way. It works for you, too, okay? If I gain weight, they’re going to say you got me pregnant. Do you want that? Or do you want me to be the person who people follow because I’m one of the redheads?”
“When your feet feel better, we can run together.”
That was all he was going to say to my pronouncement? Really? I angrily buttered my croissant. It was possible to sort of abuse it so that I could take my frustration out on the food instead of him.
He ate, too, stopping only to watch a woman in the corner who started to talk loudly. I followed his direction. She wasn’t crying, but she wasn’t happy. I guessed her to be maybe forty years old, and across from her was a woman who resembled her a great deal, a younger version. Both dark haired. Both blue eyed. Strong, striking cheekbones.
They could be on the cover of something.
“Is she okay?” I asked him. I didn’t have to understand to hear tone.
“She’s not happy. She’s supposed to be leaving her to go for a walk with a man she wants to date. First time since her divorce, and she’s calling herself a bunch of names.” He kept his voice down. “Renee has lots of money, very comfortable. But this is a first, and she’s not feeling…confident.”
I turned in my seat and looked at her quickly before she noticed and then back at Zeke. She was lovely. But I could see it in the way she was holding herself in the chair, the way her daughter wasn’t making eye contact with her. It was already going to be a disastrous date, and it hadn’t happened yet. Just based on how she was feeling right now.
“I can help.”
He leaned forward. “How can you do that?”
“I…know I can.”
This was sort of what I did. In a weird way that I’d never done before. But I wanted to. The poor lady. Why start out behind? If she wanted that date, she should have it go well from the start. There were enough things that could go wrong.
“Okay.” He indicated toward her. “Her daughter knows who you are. Said it when we walked in. And they speak English.”
I rose. I was going to go bother a stranger in the hopes that I could make her day better. I must have been out of my mind, except I had to do this. I just had to.
Chapter Nine
There was no polite way to approach someone about what I was going to do. I mean, it was none of my fucking business. I had no reason whatsoever to get involved in this woman’s day. She might tell me to get the hell away from her, probably in French so I wouldn’t understand her, but I’d get the gist anyway, and I’d be humiliated in front of a café of strangers. And Zeke, who thought of me pretty badly anyway. He’d seen my bank account, and I didn’t know what was in it yet, but I was sure it wasn’t pretty.