Page 17 of To Believe In You
“You couldn’t walk around and sit like a normal person?” Her knee-jerk reaction zapped out before she could stop it. Mostly, she was angry with Dad and Shane, but Matt must’ve known he would startle her.
Unruffled, he crossed his arms. His face was tan, save for his scars. The straight, thin line on his jaw and the one shaped like a greater-than sign near his temple remained pale. The jagged half-inch mark on his cheek was pink, newer. “It’s come to my attention that I should ask what I’ve done to upset you.”
Her ribs sank as her breath left her. She shouldn’t have shown her disapproval because she didn’t want to explain. She took the napkin she’d held around her coffee cup and cleaned up her hand.
“Was it something specific?” he asked.
She peered at the street, but the fairytale couple had moved on. “No.”
Just his ongoing disregard for safety, propriety, and family. She’d followed all the rules her whole life, and yet everything had fallen apart. Meanwhile, Matt had been reckless. He didn’t deserve the success or second chances he’d enjoyed.
He stayed still and quiet for a few beats. “We got lost in Paris. Remember?”
While on tour with the band, she’d heard of a place to get the best macarons in France. Though she suspected Matt had agreed to go along more to hit on her than to try the confections, she’d tolerated his company. Figured being with him was better than being alone as night fell in the city. They’d made it to the bakery without incident, but on the way back, her phone’s GPS had misled her.
“That must’ve been six years ago,” she said.
“It was fun, watching you try to speak French to get us some directions, clutching your pink bag of cookies like you were protecting nuclear launch codes. And we accidentally found … that thing.” He made an upside-down U with his hand.
“The Arc de Triomphe?”
“That’s the one.” He chuckled. “You kept blaming your phone, but I’m pretty sure it was the operator.”
She scoffed. “This is a pretty awful apology, if you’re trying to make things right.”
He surveyed her, his smile pulling harder and harder at the corner of his mouth until he grinned. “All I’m saying is, my phone consistently pointed the opposite direction of where you led us.”
“You never said anything.”
“It was Paris, and we never got to see the sights on tour. Like I said, I had fun.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know.” His expression turned serious. When she’d succumbed to tears, he’d hailed a taxi—an idea that had somehow not occurred to her. Though the whole excursion had been her idea, he paid the fare. “You might’ve enjoyed the adventure if you’d relaxed.”
“We were going to miss our flight.”
“Could’ve caught the next one.”
“Easy for you to say. You were used to missing things. Letting people down. Everyone knew not to count on you.”
Matt laughed ruefully. “Meanwhile, you still have to have it all together.”
“Responsibility and reliability make me who I am.” In the chaos after Dad lost his second fortune, her parents had sent her to stay with her grandparents. She’d slipped from bed and overheard Grandpa, whose health had been failing, calling Dad irresponsible and unfit to inherit the family estate. Grandma asked what he suggested they do with it instead. Lina had learned then, at the age of twelve and years before her parents heard a peep about it, that the inheritance would pass to her. To avoid similar disqualification, she’d known all along that she needed to be everything Dad wasn’t—teachable, loyal, responsible.
After that, any money that came her way had gone into a savings account. She’d also stockpiled good behavior, mostly to impress her grandparents, whose approval was far warmer and more comforting than her parents’ notice.
The only time she’d made a big withdrawal from the bank of good choices had been when she’d fallen for Shane—over Grandma’s protests. Thank God she’d built up enough positive experiences with Grandma before that, because only Grandma had been there for her after Lina discovered Shane’s true colors.
For the two months they’d had, anyway, between then and Grandma’s sudden illness.
Now, Lina was Grandma’s legacy, and she would do her proud by being a good steward of the inheritance. By extension, guarding her heart was paramount to avoid another disaster with a man who might leverage her longing for a family to con his way into her bank account.
Matt rubbed his thumb against the center of his opposite palm. “I’m not the guy I used to be.”
“Then explain again why your own family just fired you.”
He gave her a flat look. Instead of repeating his weak defense that he’d “technically” quit, he stood. “It’s going to be Paris all over again, isn’t it?”
