Harper flinches, and I stand. “She most certainly is.”
Cathy barely looks at me as she scans the room. Her eyes stop on Isabella. “Who is she?”
“She’s my guest,” Connor says.
“She’s in my seat.”
“No,” I say, my voice more assured than I feel. “Cathy, we’ve talked about this. You know you have to stay at least a hundred feet away from me.”
Her eyes swing back to me. She has this discomfiting way of staring at you without blinking. “But I was invited. I can show you the email.”
Oliver stands and walks to her. “Why don’t we find you a table in the restaurant? Here, come with me.”
He does it so neatly that she’s out of the room as quickly as she entered. The waiter apologizes for the disturbance and fills our glasses with the next wine pairing. Oliver comes back a few minutes later and says that she’s been set up at a quiet table in the front of the restaurant.
“How did she know we’d be here?” Connor asks.
“She must’ve gotten a copy of the itinerary somehow,” Harper says.
“From your purse?” Connor says with a hint of alarm.
“Was she the one who mugged you?” Allison asks.
“No,” Harper says firmly. “It wasn’t her. Maybe the publicist screwed up. I’ve been trying to reach her… I’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Aren’t there supposed to be more courses?” Shek asks, unconcerned. The tip of his nose is red, and I’m glad it’s not my job to make sure he gets back to the hotel tonight.
I signal to the waiter, and in a moment, he and a colleague bring out a delicate piece of fish in a white wine emulsion with fried capers and lemon. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted, and I try to savor it despite the company and the interruption from Cathy. Tomorrow, I’m going to make sure she’s off this tour, but for now, I take a sip of the excellent wine, then put the last piece of fish on my fork.
I want to relish this moment of peace, the delicate flavors, the fine wine.
That’s my mistake, though, letting my guard down.
Because it’s only an instant later that I stop being able to breathe.
And now, for the first time on this trip, I’m truly scared.
CHAPTER 9It Tolls for Thee
The thing no one tells you about dying is that your life doesn’t flash before your eyes like you’re watching a movie. There’s no white light enveloping you while bucolic scenes scroll by—you on a bike with your dad, you at the park with your mom, your first kiss, first time, the last time you felt truly happy. Not when you can’t breathe.
Instead, your life closes in like a pinhole camera, tighter and tighter as you try to cough up the small bone that’s lodged in your airway. Your hands go up reflexively to your throat like you’re trying to choke yourself out, and all you can think is not like this as fear floods through your body.
But it doesn’t end like this. Not this time.
Because Oliver is the hero of this chapter.
Right before it feels like I’m going to pass out, he bounds around the table and grabs me from behind, his hands on my solar plexus. Then he pushes in and up until the bone dislodges, and poof, I can breathe again.
I take in three slow, ragged breaths, and the camera lens widens.
The entire cast is standing in front of me.
—Harper with tears on her cheeks.
—Allison and Emily clinging to each other in shock.
—Guy standing at the ready to do something—who knows what.