Page 167 of One Wrong Move

“You’re going to spoil them,” Alec calls, but he doesn’t sound the least bit bothered about it.

“I’m preventing your children from overheating.” I set down the bowl between Sam and Willa. “I want you to go really, really crazy, okay? But stay away from the adults and the table… except your father. Hit him. Deal?”

Willa is nodding vigorously. “Deal.”

“I hear you, you know,” Alec says behind my back.

“Then you know not to duck,” I say calmly.

Sam smiles, his grin is wide enough that I see the gap of his missing front teeth. I reach out and muss his hair. This is one of the things I miss because I live in London. I get independence, privacy, distance… but that distance comes with a cost.

The kids resume their game, and I make my way over to the patio table where the grown-ups are lounging. Talking. Laughing. Over the last six months, since Alec and Isabel became a real couple, they’ve formed this tight-knit little foursome. I’m not sure how it happened. Gabriel and Alec used to be strangers at best, rivals at worst.

Another thing I’ve missed out on while being here in London.

It must have been Connie’s and Isabel’s doing. My corporate-minded sister and her ballet dancer neighbor have been best friends for years, and while Isabel’s romance with Alec made a temporary rift in that closeness, their friendship now seems to be stronger than ever.

The men, for their part, seem incapable of denying their women anything. So, despite years of barely restrained animosity between our families, Gabriel and Alec found the one thing that cut through all the bullshit of the past.

Love.

“Did you see the schedule I sent over?” Connie asks.

I stretch my legs out and lean back in the lounge chair. “Absolutely not.”

“What’s the purpose of planning,” she grumbles and reaches for her phone. “Okay. We discussed this on the plane, so everyone’s already on the same page.”

I cross my feet at the ankles. “All right. I guess I don’t need to hear it, then, if all I’m to do is follow along.”

Alec’s eyes narrow. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m dandy.”

“We’re going to see Buckingham Palace first thing tomorrow morning. The kids really want to. And then, we’re walking over to Big Ben and Westminster Abbey. Lunch is at The Admiral. We’ll get our fill of classic pub fare before we split up. Gabe and Alec are taking Willa and Sam to Madame Tussauds while Isabel and I will hit Bond Street and Regent Street for some shopping.”

“Wonder which group I’ll go with,” I say dryly.

Connie nods. “Yes. You’re the tour guide, you know.”

“Mm-hmm. I thought the tour guide was called Devon, and he’s giving us a private tour of the city on the open top double-decker bus with plenty of snacks for the kids.”

“You did read the schedule!”

I cross my arms over my chest. “I did.”

“Okay, then you know everything. What do you think? Have we missed anything?”

I think about walks through the park. The movie premiere at Leicester Square. About the flower market that opens at 4 a.m., and the sunrise breakfast at the Duck and Waffle. And I remember the hours spent in the art museum and laughing so hard that the attendants told us to shush.

“No,” I say. “Sounds pretty… comprehensive.”

She nods, but she’s frowning. I’m not my usual self. I know that they sense it by their heavy gazes. Certain they hear it in my clipped responses. My usual charm is gone. I don’t have the energy to make everyone laugh. I can barely focus on the here and now when my mind is a million miles away.

On the sound of her voice last night. Calling after midnight.

When I closed my eyes, it was almost like she was there. Next to me in bed. Talking softly in my ear.

Only her words cut deeper than any knife.

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