Page 35 of The Scribe (Irin Chronicles 1)

She was barely at the curb when Leo caught up with her.

“Are you always so stubborn?” he asked.

“Yes.”

The man was looking around as if he expected commandos to come pouring out of the fashionable doorways of the Sultanahmet. Ava shook her head.

“Seriously, Leo, relax. You’re too young to worry this much.”

“Haha.”

“You’re not even going to drink, are you?”

“Not if I want to remain living.”

Ava was halfwaythrough a bottle of very mediocre red wine when she noticed it. First one had drifted in. Then another.

“Whoa.”

“What?” Leo looked up from his phone. He’d been madly texting someone for the last ten minutes. Ava was guessing Malachi was busy. Too busy to worry about her, anyway. Poor Leo. He was tense, poised on the edge of his seat like a dog waiting for a command. He hadn’t drunk anything, not even the tea the waiter had set in front of him at the café that looked down to the water. Ava had visited before, but not at night. It was a decidedly different crowd. A football match was playing on the television, and young people of every nationality hung on the score. It was definitely a tourist place, but a friendly one. And that night, it had more than its share of very pleasant scenery.

“You probably haven’t noticed unless you’re into guys, but this bar has suddenly become hot guy central.” She looked around in wonder. It couldn’t just be her imagination. Every woman in the place seemed to be under a spell. The whole place was full of wildly handsome men. “Is there some kind of… modeling conference in town? Fashion week or something?”

“I don’t know,” Leo said tersely, still typing madly on his phone.

“This is so weird. I mean, I’m not complaining—”

“Whatever you do,” Leo interrupted as he stood. “Donotleave this spot. I need to make a call, and I need to be able to see you through the window.”

She sneered automatically. “Hey, buddy—”

“I’m serious, Ava.” He did look serious. “Don’t leave. And avoid talking to anyone if you can. I’ll be right outside.”

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him walk away. Leo glared at one of the handsome men who sat in the corner with two women draped over his arms. The man turned and locked eyes with Ava; she glanced away, looking for Leo, but he was already outside. What was with him? Was one of these guys with his ex-girlfriend, or something?

There was the one Leo had passed, sitting by the door with two women. He looked like someone she’d seen in an underwear ad. There were two other men sharing a table on the opposite side of the bar. They might have been brothers with their stunning blue eyes and dark brown hair. They were currently the focus of at least five fawning women. There was a blond by the hallway leading toward the restrooms, and still another sitting directly across from her, giving her sultry dark eyes that did absolutely nothing but make her think of a self-absorbed actor she’d dated once in college.

“Whatever,” she muttered and refilled her glass. She was starting to get a perfectly nice buzz that was helping to drown out the voices. The last thing she needed was bossy men ordering her around or coming on to her. She was tempted to leave the place, just for spite. But… She wasn’t going to waste a perfectly good—well, adequate—bottle of wine.

One of the men across from the bar winked at her, then the one who’d been standing by the hallway came up and sat in the chair Leo had occupied.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“None of your business.” He looked shocked, but the whole situation was giving Ava goose bumps. What was the game here? She didn’t get it. There was something going on, but the wine had muffled the voices, making it harder for her to read the intentions of the man sitting next to her. She looked around the place. She was in a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt, hadn’t even attempted to dress up. Why was this guy talking to her? She had no illusions about her own beauty. Ava knew she was moderately attractive, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who turned heads. Certainly not heads that looked like they belonged in fashion magazines.

“I’m just curious. You’re a beautiful woman, and you’re all alone.”

“Yes. Happily alone.”

Keep telling yourself that, Ava.

Stupid wine.

“But you weren’t alone earlier.”

“Your point, Einstein?”

“Did your boyfriend leave you here?”

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