Page 77 of The Last Autograph

Before starting the engine, she sat frozen in the driver’s seat, both hands clenching the steering wheel. And as she drove, she ran her forefinger along one lower lash line, then the other.

When she pulled into Gloria’s driveway a short while later, Molly remained in her car. She reminded herself that the woman had recently lost a son and that her grief was still raw, but right at that moment,it was impossible to feel any sympathy whatsoever for Hazel Sinclair.

A sad little betrayal.

Well, shit!

31

Jake stood at the front door of number ten, three floors up and at the end of a short, dim hallway, and dug in his backpack for his keys.

He’d owned the compact two-bedroom apartment for over three years. Advertised at the time as a mix of Art Nouveau and Art Deco architecture guaranteed to seduce the most discerning of buyers, in Jake’s opinion, it didn’t live up to the sales hype. But it was home and, despite the small footprint, one he’d enjoyed living in.

Jake checked his watch. His flight had landed at Charles de Gaulle just after seven a.m. via a three-hour layover in Singapore, and as he opened the door, all he wanted was to sleep off the jet lag he knew was about to hit. However, he also knew that staying awake was the best way to reset his body clock.

He dropped his backpack just inside his bedroom door and looked around. The place smelled of stale coffee, and in the kitchen, a lone mug sat unwashed in the sink.

Jake crossed the living room and poked his head into Ava’s room, frowning when he saw clothes strewn all over the bed. When they first moved in together, she’d insisted on having her own space—so she could sleep late and pack it to the brim with clothes, shoes, and handbags. Jake thought having separate bedrooms suited them, but after being with Molly, he questioned that concept. In fact, on the flight over, he’d questioned many things about his relationship with Ava.

The sound of a key in the lock startled him, and when he spun around, there she stood, hair in a messy bun and a soft smile warming her features.

“Oh my gosh, you’re here already.” She crossed the room and dropped several small brown paper bags on the table but didn’t offer a hug. “I popped out to get breakfast. How was your flight?”

An immediate sense of separation struck Jake head-on. Ever since booking his tickets, he’d wondered how he’d feel when he saw Ava again. Because while their romantic relationship had ended months before, he hadn’t had the energy to confront his feelings at the time.

Now, he didn’t have a choice.

“What are you doing here?” He stepped forward. “I thought you’d moved out.”

“Are you hungry? I have croissants and?—”

“Ava, what’s going on?”

She picked up a bag and tore it open, then stilled before bursting into tears. “Pascal and I are on a break. That’s why I’m still here. I have nowhere else to go.”

Jake engulfed her in a tight hug, but for the first time in many years, he knew she didn’t belong in his embrace and never would again. “Hey. Don’t cry.”

“He’s gone back to Toulouse.” Ava’s tears dampened the front of his shirt, her petite frame only reaching the bottom of his breast pocket. “I wanted to go too, but I need more time to sort out my life here.”

Jake released his grip and pulled out a chair. “Sit down, and I’ll make us some coffee.”

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be here, but…”

“Ava, it’s not a problem.”

They talked that day, he and Ava, more than they’d talked in the past year. Did they iron out the kinks in their relationship? No, but by the time they went to bed that night—Jake dehydrated by the heat and with a thumping headache, he’d made his peace with their parting. And that’s all he could ask for.

Ava had already left for work when he woke just after nine, lathered in sweat and the humidity in his small room almost unbearable. Showered and dressed, and with a half-eaten stale croissant abandoned on the kitchen counter, Jake strolled along the cobbled pavement to the patisserie where he’d spent the past few years of his Parisian working life.

“Jake. Great to see you, man.” Theo, Jake’s previous boss and friend for almost a decade, offered a warm grin. The two men hugged and slapped each other on the back. Being Australian, Theo had never taken to the double-kiss greeting, which suited Jake just fine.

“You too.” Jake glanced around, inhaling the familiar aroma of strong coffee and freshly baked pastries. He’d loved working here, but life was fluid, and his attitude toward that fluidity had changed since Jesse’s death. Lately, he’d missed people more than places. “You’re looking well.”

Theo barked out a laugh. “What’s with the bullshit? They say forty’s the new thirty, but I call bullshit. I’m forty-five, and I sure do feel it. That’s why we need to make the move now. Before it’s too late for us to get our teeth into something new. Plus, Milly wants to be closer to her folks and for the kids to go to school in London.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“Sure. You know me. I’ll just follow along. Happy wife and all that bullshit.” Theo nodded to the server. “You got time for a coffee, mate?”

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