Page 49 of Say Yes to the Death

“I have to go, Pete. I’ll send you the final details on Sunday. Yes, I understand. Bye.” Luke ended the call and tucked his phone back into his pocket.

“Trouble with work?” she asked.

Pete was a producer for both of Luke’s documentaries. He was an odious man, but he allowed Luke free creative control of all his projects.

“Pete’s just hardballing me on the documentary. Toying with my funding. Nothing unusual,” Luke said, turning to face her. He looked tense and distracted.

Great. Sex was definitely off the table now.

“I’m sorry.” Claire pulled him into a hug and rested against his chest. His heart was beating faster than usual. Pete was ruining her chill Paris vibe. And she still wanted that croissant. “What did he want?”

“They want me to come to California for a few weeks.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she drew back. The note under her pillow surfaced in her mind as if dredged up from the bottom of a well. Luke had entered her life barely two months ago and had been a grumpy, judgmental annoyance from their first interaction. He had also concealed his theory that she was the next target of the Widowmaker and interfered with her painstakingly crafted proposals. They were polar opposites on the romance scale, and he repeatedly rolled his eyes at her life’s work. So why was the idea of this cocky nuisance leaving so unsettling?

She had never truly felt like she needed anyone before. Jason was more of a semi-mobile pile of potatoes who occasionally burned frozen pizzas than a life partner. But Luke was something else entirely. And she could never ask him to jeopardize his career to stay behind for her.

Oh, right. She needed to say something. “For what?”

“There’s been a lot of interest in the documentary, and there are some people I need to meet with. Other producers, financial backers. Animation, photography, narration, all kinds of things. They’re getting impatient. But I’m not going. Not while you’re in danger.”

Her insides squirmed, and guilt settled over her like a gravity blanket. She crossed her arms over her chest and took a deep, shaky breath.

“You have to go. No one knows more about the story than you. I’m going to be fine. The person who left the note was probably just a bored asshole. I’m not in danger. Besides, I have a small army of people in West Haven who are borderline as obsessed with my safety as my mother.”

He cupped her chin in his hand. His eyes were soft, like a Caribbean cove on a cloudless day. “You could come visit. Think about it. Long weekends in wine country, toes in the Pacific.” A worry line creased his brow.

“You know I can’t. Between proposal season and my multitude of trials and lawsuits, I can’t leave. I wish I could. But you have to go. I’ll miss you, though.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she had even given the feeling a name. Yikes. She was going to miss Luke. When Jason had gone on week-long hunting trips with his dad, she never missed him. She had relished the extra space in the bed.

Luke raised his eyebrows. He looked amused.

“Shut up. I’ll be fine. I’ll be so busy with work that I’ll barely even notice you’re gone. End of discussion. Now can we go get a croissant? And then sex?” She took a step back and thrust the door open. It banged off the frame, but for once he didn’t comment.

He followed her and smiled, and the mood in the room lifted. “Sounds like a plan.”

Claire opened her suitcase and, for a moment, thought it was empty. Then she realized everything Mindy had packed for her was black. Black shoes, black tops, black skirts and pants. The funeral-chic attire really should have clued her in to their destination, but she had been too distracted to analyze the clothing choices.

“I hope she packed you enough shoes,” Luke said, peering over her shoulder.

“There are four pairs in here,” Claire said, drawing out a pair of knee-length boots. “I really wish she would have left me a few more options, though. I just ordered these perfect strappy sandals?—”

“Enough shoe talk. Breakfast now.”

“Fine, fine.” She disappeared into the bathroom with an armful of clothing.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

To Do:

- Brush up on conversational French

- Send donuts to the West Haven PD

EQSA

“It’s smaller than I thought.” Claire stood in the shadow of Notre Dame. She shaded her eyes with one hand and stared up at the space where the spire once stood, grasping an espresso in the other hand like a lifeline. Scaffolding disguised the front of the cathedral, and tarps covered holes in the roof. The fire that had ravaged the cathedral had certainly done some damage, but much of the original beauty remained. The bell towers emerged from the scaffolding, standing tall and unchanged. It felt like the stained-glass windows could see her, recognize her. Two damaged but resilient souls, calmly regarding each other across the courtyard.

“You know how you build things up in your mind sometimes, but when you actually finally experience them, they’re not what you expected at all?” she asked Luke.

---