I felt abandoned. Completely abandoned.
“I guess. I mean, it’s not like I could miss her when I don’t remember what it was like to have her around.”
Lies. All lies. The truth was, not a day had gone by that I hadn’t felt the absence of my mother. There were so many times I wished she was there to talk to, to ask for advice. My grandmother tried her best, but it wasn’t always easy for us to connect with such a huge age difference between us. And it wasn’t so much my mother’s absence that hurt as it was what her absence meant.
She hadn’t loved me enough to stay. Or to take me with her.
I tried to smile, reaching out and squeezing Mya’s hand. “I’m sure everything will be okay. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know. Even if you just need to talk.”
“Thanks.”
I turned my attention back to the bar. “Do you see Fleur?”
She scanned the crowd. “No.”
“Maybe she’s in the bathroom?”
“I’ll go check it out.” Mya sighed. “I probably owe her an apology anyways.”
I sat at the table, sipping my drink, waiting for them to both come out. A few minutes later Mya emerged by herself.
“Did you find her?”
“No, she’s not in there and no one has seen her.”
I pulled my phone out, dialing Fleur’s number. The call went straight to voice mail. “No answer,” I mouthed to Mya. I left Fleur a quick message, telling her we were worried and asking her to call us. “What do we do now?”
“I have no idea. I guess we just wait around to see if she comes back. We can’t leave her here.”
We sat at the bar waiting for Fleur for an hour. She never showed. Neither did the guy I saw her talking to earlier.
She didn’t call us back, either.
“Maybe she went back to the hotel,” Mya suggested. “Wherever she is, she definitely isn’t here.”
We grabbed our coats and headed toward the exit. Mya hailed a cab. We rode in silence.
“I’m worried about her.”
Mya’s voice was grim. “So am I. She’s just been so off the rails lately. She isn’t handling any of this well.”
“What’s the big deal with this guy? I don’t get it. I mean, yes, he’s hot, but there has to be more to it than that.”
Mya sighed. “They’d been together for years. Since before we came to London. When I knew her in Switzerland, she and Costa were dating. I really think she loved him. And he can be very charming when he needs to be. He was always taking her on romantic trips, buying her expensive jewelry. We were all jealous of her back then. He was the perfect boyfriend—except when he wasn’t. I think he probably always cheated, but it wasn’t in her face enough for Fleur to realize it until they came to London. That girl he cheated with—Natasha—is now his girlfriend.”
I winced. “Ouch.”
“She hasn’t been the same since. She even was out of school for a while—a month or so. When she came back she seemed different. Broken, somehow.”
Surprise filled me. A month of missing school over a guy seemed extreme at best. “Has Fleur always been this…” I searched for the right word. “High-strung?”
“It’s way worse this year. Before, she had her moments, but now it’s like she’s doing everything she can to push herself over the edge.”
“What do you mean?”
Mya hesitated. “She’s drinking a lot.” I’d noticed. “Partying harder than normal.”
That didn’t do anything to make me feel better.
When we got to the hotel, we moved through the lobby quickly. Mya led the way down the hall, pulling out her room key to open the door. I followed her through, the lights just as we’d left them, the bed perfectly made.
My heart sank. “Okay, now I’m really worried.”
Mya pulled out her cell, dialing Fleur’s number. She stood with the phone pressed to her ear. She shook her head. “Straight to voice mail.”
“Shit.”
Mya left a terse message asking Fleur to call us.
“What do we do now?”
“I have no idea. Wait, I guess. I don’t think you can call the police until someone has been missing for twenty-four hours.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s only been two.”
“Do you think she left with that guy?”
“Probably.” Mya squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry about Fleur. I know you’re scared, but I promise you, Fleur always lands on her feet. I’m sure this is just a blip and she’ll turn up later with some story about the hot guy she hooked up with.”
I wanted to believe Mya. I just wasn’t sure I could.
* * *
When we woke the next morning, there was still no sign of Fleur.
“Okay, now I’m starting to get worried,” Mya announced. “I really thought she would waltz back in during the middle of the night.”
I sat up in bed, running my hand through my hair. “Our flight is this evening. What do we do if she doesn’t get back in time?”
“I don’t know.”
“Should we call her parents?”
“No way. Trust me, that would be the last thing Fleur would want.”
Our conversation in the common room came back to me.
“Well, we have to do something. We can’t just sit around like this, hoping to hear from her.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
There was only one person I could think of who seemed to know how to handle Fleur. “Do you have Samir’s number?”
“Yeah.” Mya pulled out her phone, handing it to me. “That’s not a bad idea. He’s probably the closest person to Fleur.” She hesitated. “Why don’t you call him? I think he likes you better anyways.”
I pulled a face, ignoring the stupid flutter in my chest. “I find that hard to believe.”
Mya’s smile was wry. “Trust me.”
I dialed the number, my heart pounding as the phone rang. I glanced down at my watch. It was only ten a.m. in Italy, probably still too early for Samir to be awake. He answered on the fourth ring.
I sucked in a deep breath. “Hey, it’s Maggie.”
“Maggie?” His voice sounded sleepy, his accent heavier than normal. “Why are you calling me?” He didn’t sound annoyed, just confused.
“I’m here in Italy with Fleur.” I paused. “Well, that’s the problem, and why I’m calling you. We can’t find Fleur.”
“We?”
“Mya’s here, too. She’s the one who gave me your number,” I added as an afterthought. “The three of us came to Italy for the weekend. Venice.”
“Yeah, I know. Fleur told me.”
“When was the last time you talked to Fleur?”
There was a pause. “I don’t know. A couple of days, maybe? I don’t exactly keep track.” A rustling sounded on the other side of the line. “Look, Maggie—not that I’m not enjoying this little phone call, but why are you calling me again? It’s ridiculously fucking early here. I’ve slept three hours and I’m really not in the mood to listen to you breathing in my ear. I’m flattered, but it’s a little early for that kind of phone call.”
A girl’s voice sounded on Samir’s end of the line. My stomach clenched. I didn’t know what I hated more—the fact that he was getting laid or the fact that I cared.
I gritted my teeth. “I didn’t call you to hit on you, you ass. I called because your cousin is missing. I realize you don’t give a shit about anyone but yourself, but you do seem to occasionally care about Fleur. I thought maybe you would have an interest in helping us.”
Samir sighed. “What happened?”
“We went out to this bar Fleur recommended—”
“What bar?”
I looked to Mya for help.
“Travinia,” she mouthed.
I repeated the name to Samir.
“Yeah, I know it.”
“Well, we got lost on the way there and everyone was a little annoyed with each other, so Fleur took off right when
we walked in. She went over to the bar and started talking to some guy. The next thing I knew she was gone.”
Samir made a noise of disgust.
“We waited for her for an hour, looked in the bathroom, asked around, but no one had seen her. We tried calling her cell, but it just goes straight to voice mail. She hasn’t returned any of our messages or texts. We came back to the hotel, but she wasn’t here.” With each word, the rising note of panic increased. “It’s morning now and she still hasn’t come back. Our flight leaves in a few hours and we don’t know what to do. Mya thinks we can’t call the police this early, but we don’t want to leave without her, either. Should we call her parents?”
“You won’t be able to reach them. Fleur can barely get in touch with them as it is. Besides, even if you do talk to them, there isn’t much they’re going to do. At most her dad will send someone to Italy to find her. It’s not unheard of for Fleur to go off on her own like this.”
“I’m worried about her.”
“Just relax. Don’t panic. Stay in the hotel in case she comes back. I’ll be there in a few hours.”
“What?”
“I’m coming to Venice. It’s a short flight. It shouldn’t take too long to get there.”
“You’re going to buy a ticket to come over here?” I sputtered.
“My dad has a plane. I’ll be there soon. Just sit tight.”
“Are you sure? Mya and I can take care of this on our end.”
“It’s no big deal.”
I hesitated, relief filling me. “Thanks, Samir.”
Chapter 20
Four hours later someone knocked on our hotel room door.
I leaped up from the bed. “Maybe it’s Fleur.” I padded over to the entrance, pulling open the door. Samir stood on the other side. I’d never been so glad to see him.
“Did you hear anything from her?”
I shook my head, opening the door wider and inviting him in.
“Thanks for coming,” Mya said.
“Have you tried calling her?”
Samir nodded, his gaze sweeping around the room. “Yeah, she’s not picking up. I called one of my dad’s investigators and he’s running a check to see if any of her credit cards have been used.”
“You can do that?”
“This guy isn’t exactly aboveboard, but yeah, you can.”
Mya glanced down at her watch. “Our flight is in three hours. I don’t know what to do.”
Our bags were lined up by the door, packed and ready to go.
“If you guys need to leave, I can take it from here.”
I grimaced. “I don’t feel right leaving her like this. I don’t have class until tomorrow afternoon, so it’s not a big deal if I have to get on a later flight. I want to help find her.” I didn’t add that there was no way I could afford to pay for it. Right now all that mattered was making sure Fleur was safe.
“If you miss your flight, I can give you a ride on my dad’s plane,” Samir offered.
I hesitated. “Thanks.” I turned toward Mya. “You have a test tomorrow, don’t you?”
She nodded.
“If you need to go, I can stay back here with Samir.” It wasn’t ideal, but I figured I owed both Mya and Fleur a lot. I could handle being around Samir for a day if I had to. I’d just keep my hands and lips to myself.
“I don’t want to leave you by yourself.”
“I’ll look out for her,” Samir interjected.
Funnily enough, I believed him.
“Really, it’s fine. Samir and I can take care of Fleur. Why don’t you head over to the airport now so you don’t miss the flight? I’ll call if we hear anything from Fleur.”
Mya’s gaze darted from me to Samir. “Are you sure?”
“Go.” I reached out and hugged her. “Don’t worry about anything here. Fleur and I will be in London tomorrow for dinner. I’m sure of it.”
Samir called down to the front desk and ordered a water taxi for Mya. We said goodbye before he helped her downstairs with her bags. A few minutes later, he walked back in.
“She’s off to the airport.”
“Thanks.”
Samir sank down next to me on the edge of the bed. Our knees brushed against each other. A shiver slid down my spine. He pulled out his phone, running through the messages and emails.
“Anything?”
He shook his head.
“What do you think happened to her? Do you think she’s in danger? Or do you think she just went off with some guy she met?”
Samir ran a hand through his hair. For the first time since he arrived, I realized how tired he looked.
“I don’t know. I think she’s probably fine. She does stuff like this sometimes. More so now after Costa. She could have just been upset and decided to take off for a bit.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell someone? You would think she would at least text someone and let them know not to worry about her.”
Samir shrugged. “I’ve given up trying to predict what Fleur’s thinking.”
“You guys are close.”
“I care about her, yeah.” Samir hesitated for a beat. “She’s the person I’m probably the closest to in my family. Unfortunately that doesn’t mean I always understand what she’s thinking.”
Silence hung between us.
“What are we going to do?”
Samir leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. “I don’t know. We can leave a message with the front desk to let us know if she comes back here or calls. Maybe the best bet is to go back to the bar and see if there’s any sign of her or anyone who saw her.”
I didn’t have a better plan. I followed Samir out, stopping at the front desk while he spoke with the concierge. Money changed hands between them.
“Come on. They’re calling a car for us.”
For the first time I realized that the whole conversation between Samir and the concierge had been in Italian.
“You speak Italian?”
“Why do you look surprised?”
“I don’t know. I just didn’t peg you as being interested in foreign languages.”
“I like girls from foreign countries.” He winked at me, some of the tension leaving his face. “Knowing the language does tend to help things go more smoothly.” He grinned. “Although it definitely isn’t always a prerequisite. I have other skills.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I’m just saying. I have a good ear for languages, but the really impressive thing is what I can do with my hands…and my mouth…”
Warmth spread all over my body.
“Is everything sexual with you?” I asked, exasperation filling my voice.
He flashed me his trademark grin. “Isn’t that how you like it?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t know I like it,” I bluffed, fighting the urge to blush.
Samir’s smile slipped just a notch. His voice lowered. “I think I do know. I remember what you feel like in my arms.”
“Stop.”
As far as protests went, mine were pretty weak.
His gaze was teasing, his words my undoing. “Maybe I can’t. Maybe I can’t stop thinking of you—maybe I have to have you.”
I stepped back, desperate to put some space between us. Samir stepped forward, closing the gap. His voice was seductive, his accent sending a wave of pleasure through my body. His lips were inches from mine.
“You should probably know—I always get what I want.”
“Maybe. But you can’t have me.”
He grinned. “Oh, I promise you, I will have you.” Heat flared in his eyes. “In my bed, against the wall, on the floor, everywhere.”
I couldn’t even respond. Images flashed through my mind. His body. Mine. Pressed together. Naked. Limbs entwined.
“It’s not a question of if, it’s a question of when.”
I couldn’t handle this. Couldn’t handle him. I could play at this, but any time he upped the stakes, I folded.
The c
oncierge walked over towards us, speaking with Samir in Italian. It was a welcome interruption that allowed me to get my raging hormones under control. Or at least to try. When they’d finished talking, Samir walked back over to me.
“How many languages do you speak?” I squeaked, struggling to break the moment. I needed something to ease the tension in my chest, a distraction to banish the image of Samir’s bare skin from my brain. We’d only been alone for half an hour and my lips were already thisclose to his. I was so screwed.
Samir shot me a knowing grin. “French, Arabic. English, obviously. Some Italian, enough Spanish to get by.”
I couldn’t help but be impressed.
“I went to a special language school before going to the International School,” he added. “To learn English.”
“Where? In London?”
“Yeah.”
“If you went to school to learn English before starting university…how old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
I wasn’t entirely surprised by his answer. He seemed older. “Is it weird being here with the rest of us? I mean—the age difference and everything?”
“Not really.” His mouth quirked. “Although sometimes you do make me feel like a debauched old man.”
I rolled my eyes again. “Are you ever serious?”
“Not if I can help it.”
A sleek black Maybach with dark-tinted windows pulled up at the curb in front of us.
“You ready?”
I nodded, allowing Samir to open the door for me. I slid into the car’s backseat. Samir sat next to me, exchanging a few words with the driver in Italian before hitting a button, the privacy window sliding up.
“I told him to take us back to the bar. Maybe we can talk to some of the staff to see if they remember seeing Fleur last night. They may know the guy she went off with.”
I nodded absentmindedly, clutching my hands in my lap, staring out the window, watching the city pass us by.
Samir reached out, squeezing my hand. I had to physically resist the urge to wrap my fingers around his.
At the same time I couldn’t get my worry about Fleur out of my mind.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll find her.”
I moved my hands out of his grasp, shifting to face him. “I just feel like it’s my fault. Like I should have done more to watch out for her.”
I See London Page 12
