Page 21 of The Crimson Lily
“I think someone wanted me dead,” I concede, realizing it myself.
Unconsciously, I think, he brings his hand to my face and makes me look up. For a brief second, he delves into my eyes with his own, then he goes for my lips.
We stand there, embraced, like we’re alone in the Tuileries Garden. His tongue slides between my parted lips. He’s pressing me closer, fastening his arms around me. When he releases me, I’m still a little shaken, but then something hits me. A feeling, a picture, a memory. Why I let Alejandro go.
Why I’m thinking of Maksim right at this moment.
I feel torn. Not because I led Alejandro Reyes on, but because of what I’ve never been able to feel.
The bliss of love. The delight of satisfaction.
I broke up with Alejandro to protect him from me. I have never loved a man. I have never felt satisfied, never felt fulfilled. I made it my reality that I would never feel that spark. It just isn’t for me. This is why I never let anyone come too close. I am unloving.
Numbness returns to my veins. I take a step back and search Alejandro’s eyes.
“I can’t be with you,” I say.
Alejandro forces another smile. He purses his lips before speaking again. “Figures,” he retorts, then his smile turns into something more real. “It was nice to see you again, Liliana.”
I don’t return his smile. I give him a simple nod, turn around, and take the nearest exit. I disappear back into Rue de Rivoli, my eyes swollen from the tears I still want to shed but that refuse to come out.
I figure whiskey is my drink. I sit on a stool at the Opera hotel bar, past the restaurant area and the wall of arches. They really do like arches in Paris. I’m in my jeans, sneakers, and a large white University of Columbia sweatshirt. My hair is halfway to blond and tied in a ponytail. I look like a first-year student lost in a hotel they really, really cannot afford.
“What type of whiskey would you like?” the attendant, a pretty blond lady who has the same eyes as me, asks me with a warm smile.
I don’t have an answer for that one, but I know I want whiskey. I point at a bottle that looks like it contains bourbon.
She giggles a little. “That’s rum, madame.”
I chuckle and feel silly. “Surprise me,” I finally request.
She laughs a little, then grabs a bottle from the other side of the shelf and serves me a nice heavy glass. I give her my room number—Mr. Business Class can buy me whiskey tonight.
“Single malt, please,” I hear a familiar voice beside me.
Maksim, who has appeared out of nowhere in his dark-gray suit, comes to sit on the stool beside mine. He gives a dashing smile to the blond lady, who blushes like a ripening tomato.
I am now looking at him, the side of my forehead resting in my palm, admiring how attractive he is. Man, he is handsome. I can’t hide it anymore after last night’s champagne sequence, today’s mountain of coffee and aspirin, and the encounter withAlejandro. My emotions just go round and round in my head, which feels like it’s about to burst again. Whiskey is going to be my salvation.
“Long day?” I ask my favorite Russian man.
He turns to me and meets my eyes. I see a silver glimmer for a split second. His beautiful cerulean eyes sparkle with the light that surrounds the Opera bar.
“More or less,” he responds.
He doesn’t ask me how my day was. As usual, I can’t bear the silence, so I start making small talk.
“I went to the Tuileries today!” I announce with exaggerated glee.
He raises an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you avoid that place?” he asks.
I raise mine in response. “Why?”
“You said someone was after you,” he clarifies.
Ah! He did catch that detail, the one I mentioned two nights ago. I take a sip of whiskey, which hits me like a huge wave of relief. Confirmed—whiskey is indeed my drink. I basically down the thing and order another one. Maksim doesn’t really approve. I can deduce that from his frown.
“What’s the plan now?” I ask my favorite question. I swirl my glass around, staring deep into it, letting it stare back at me.
