by Kait Gamble
“Have you ever seen an F1 race? If you had, you would know how exhilarating it is.”
She smiled wanly. “I’m actually here on business.”
“As am I. I’m going to win the race.” He boasted loudly enough to draw more eyes toward them.
Maia’s first instinct was to leave, but getting an account of the race from a driver’s perspective would be more interesting than just ‘it was amazing to watch’. “I’m sure the other drivers would say the same.”
Apparently glad that he had finally got some response out of her, he grinned. “But the others would be wrong.” He held out his hand. “Riccardo Vitalli.”
She took it and tried not to grimace when he kissed her knuckles. “Maia Reynolds.”
“A pleasure.” He purred. “Why don’t you join me and some friends? We’re having a party to celebrate.” He pointed to a group of suitably glamorous people watching them avidly.
A party on top of a party. Wonderful. “I can’t stay long, sadly.” His smile was cajoling, but it left her cold. “I told you I’m here on business.”
“And what kind of business is that?” He stepped closer.
Maia edged back. “I’m a travel writer here to cover the race.”
It was apparent that he relished the thought of getting more publicity. “Then you will want to talk to the best driver here.”
“I would like that.” She eyed him up and down. “But I want you to know that I’m only after the story. Nothing more.”
He put his hands up as he chuckled. “Of course.”
He led them to a table overlooking the water. Above, fireworks exploded, cascading the night sky with shimmering sparks and cameras flashed all around as the music hit a crescendo. It was something Alex would enjoy. At least she thought he might.
Maia ruthlessly shoved the thought of Alex aside. What he liked or didn’t like was of no matter to her. She hated that she couldn’t get him completely out of her mind. What bothered her more was when thoughts of him snuck up on her without warning. It always left a hollow feeling in her chest and tears threatening to fall.
“Maia? Are you okay?”
Not really. “I’m fine.” She forced a cheerful smile and set up her phone to record their conversation. “So, Riccardo, tell me about yourself.”
* * * *
Alex stared up at the sterile white walls. How many identical walls had he been faced with over the last few weeks? And for what? It was pointless.
With a growl, he sat up and tore the sensors from his scalp.
“Monsieur Girard!” The disembodied voice came from a hidden speaker seconds before a small army of lab coats flooded into the room.
He slid off the table and glared at them all. “This isn’t working.”
“We can’t give up, monsieur.” The head researcher held the sensors out pleadingly. “We’ve only just begun.”
Alex glared at him. He couldn’t even remember his name after all the doctors in white lab coats he’d been through in the past few weeks.
He’d heard that more than a few times now. And each occasion had been a failure. “You’ve done enough tests.”
“But…”
So far nothing had worked. It seemed the diagnosis of the doctor who had originally treated him had been right. There was not much of a chance he was getting his memory back. At least none that they could find at the moment.
“If you can think of a new tactic, call me.” Alex had had his fill of hospital, clinics and labs. Especially since no one seemed to have a clue about what they were doing.
No one stopped him as he slipped on his jacket and walked out.
He navigated the choked Parisian traffic and drove back to his apartment in Paris’ eighth arrondissement. The building had been built in 1900 but had been refurbished luxuriously earlier in the year before being put on the market. He’d bought it the moment he’d laid eyes on it, having been drawn to the light and space and clean lines.
He opened the window to let in the breeze and took a moment to look at the iconic Eiffel Tower etched into the sky in the distance. The view wasn’t too bad either.
Alex walked into the spacious living room and straight into the stacks of boxes. The contents of each had been carefully sorted. The things he considered important had been removed and were now gracing his desk and any other surface with a spare bit of space.
A stuffed bear smiled at him from his chair while framed photos of Maia’s younger self beamed back at him with equal happiness as he sat.
He smiled back at her, but it quickly melted away. As much as he stared at the photos and mementoes, nothing came back to him. It was as though he was looking at someone else’s belongings. Someone else’s life.
He hated that no matter how hard he tried, how hard he worked at it, no memories were sparked. For the first time he was being beaten. Alex wasn’t going to take it lying down. He would regain his memories.
He retrieved his tablet and scrolled through the list of names and deleted the last.
On to the next.
Chapter Seventeen
Maia stepped out of the airport and took a deep breath. After the long flight, wandering through the airport in Zurich felt fantastic. Unlike the other passengers who rushed to get through customs and out of the airport, Maia took a more leisurely approach. She wasn’t in any hurry. Taking a moment to just stretch her cramped limbs, she pulled out her phone and texted Jo to let her know that she had landed and that she would be off the planned path for a while.
Since she was a few days early, she fully intended on doing a little sightseeing and shopping before heading up to the resort in Zermatt.
She got the cab to take the scenic route through the city, something the driver had absolutely no problem with. On his way to drop her off at the hotel she’d booked only days before, he announced interesting locations and pointed out things that most tourists missed. She’d heard it mentioned before as being the perfect hotel in the perfect location for sightseeing in the city. So far, from what she saw so far, it was just that. Perfection.
Maia got out and looked up at the soaring building. The gleaming glass construct sat in the heart of the city straddling the line between the commercial and financial districts and no doubt made the most of both when it came to travelers for business and tourism.
With that in mind, she walked in and smiled. Where some hotels smacked patrons in the face with attempts to prove their lavishness, what she experienced in the lobby was a restrained luxury that took a discerning eye to fully appreciate. The gleaming marble floors and furniture, which she recognized as the work of a famous artisan, all whispered extravagance.
She loved it.
That was until she got to her room and flopped on the bed. On her way down into the heavenly soft down comforter, she caught a glimpse of the hotel logo on the corner of a pristine white sheet. There was no mistaking the interlocking golden G insignia.
Maia shot off the bed as if it was on fire. She grabbed the brochure off the desk and scanned it. Maia almost snorted when she got to the part where they gleefully announced they had recently joined the illustrious Girard Group.
Some travel writer she was. Why hadn’t she taken a closer look before booking?
She was exhausted, preoccupied and running from the memory of Alex, that’s why.
There was no way she was going to stay the night. Cursing her inattention, Maia smacked herself in the head with the brochure before putting it back in place. As she kicked her things toward the door, realization hit her and she shook her head. She was acting like a child. A cowardly and petulant one at that.
Taking a few deep breaths, she collected herself. She refused to scamper like a frightened little girl. Maia straightened her shoulders. She would leave, but not before she’d had something to eat. It would be a shame not to sample what the Girards had on offer. She might even be able to link this experience to the article on their hotel in Nice.
Locking the door behind her, she made her
way down to the restaurant as her critical eye kicked in. Not that there was much to critique. Like everything else she’d seen of their hotels, it was superb.
Maia barely studied the menu before ordering. Despite the fatigue and the fact that she’d eaten on the plane, she was more than ready for a three course meal. At least.
While she waited, she sat back and took in the ambience. She could almost imagine the other patrons being hired actors to complete the scene. Everything screamed opulence and luxury. There wasn’t a thing that didn’t fit or was an inch out of place.
She let her mind wander as she listened to the conversations around her. It was something Maia enjoyed doing. Traveling alone, it became almost a game to try to guess who the speaker was, where they were from. Just listening to the voices and their accents, it didn’t even matter that she couldn’t understand most of what was being said. She liked the rhythms and cadence, imagining what they might be saying.
It made it easier for her to home in on conversations in English, however. As the two gentlemen behind her had drawn her attention with their Australian accents.
She half listened as they discussed business, but then her ears perked when they mentioned their upcoming trip to Zermatt.
“But we’d best leave soon,” said the one closest to her. “I hear there’s a storm coming and it’s going to be a big one.”
“No worries. I’ll just get the bookings changed and we’ll leave straight away.”
Just what Maia was thinking. She pulled out her phone and started dialing.
At least this way she didn’t have to admit to herself that she was running from another reminder of Alex.
Chapter Eighteen
Alex swore and threw his tablet across the room. He watched with grim satisfaction as it shattered and fell to the floor in pieces.
“Bad news?”
And, of course, his father had to be there to witness his slip of composure. “Just some disappointing news, Papa.”
“Just disappointing?” He eyed the remnants of the tablet skeptically. “What happens when you get news that’s truly upsetting?”
He huffed an amused breath. “You don’t want to know.”
That made his father smile a little. “Was that the latest doctor, then?”
Alex didn’t really want to share the news with his father but knew that he wouldn’t leave without discussing things. “No one thinks that they can do anything to help me.”
“Thinks or knows they can do nothing?”
“I know what you’re going to say.” As much as he hated to admit it, it was probably time to admit that there was nothing that was going to bring his memory back.
“Don’t you think that it’s time to give up on it, then?”
Alex was thinking the same thing. How long had he wasted on this madness? He’d flown back from Paris a few nights before and had checked in with the specialists in Nice for a report that hadn’t met his expectations.
“Have you spoken to Maia lately?”
He hadn’t. He’d been so caught up in research and traveling between experts and work sites he barely had time to sleep let alone text or call Maia. Alex was sure they could survive time apart. Wasn’t she the one who insisted they be grown-ups?
“No. Why do you ask?”
His father pulled out a copy of Pulse. Alex had read Maia’s report on their hotels and was pleased with the result. The spread was tasteful and detailed with photos that were alluring.
Alex nodded approvingly before his father produced another issue of the magazine. He chuckled. “Checking out the competition, Papa?”
Guillaume ignored his son’s comment. He quickly flipped through to find the page that he wanted, folded the magazine back and handed it to his son.
Alex took it and read. It was an article by Chloe about the nightlife at the new resort in Mexico that Maia had been sent to. The other woman’s writing wasn’t at the same level as Maia’s. It was quick, to the point. Hardly compelling. He scanned her drivel about the amazing restaurants. That was until his eyes reached the photos. His jaw clenched the instant he saw the pictures. Maia and Tomas. It was as if something in his head imploded with each photo. They looked so content. Sharing a smile over their meal, walking together on the resort grounds, there was even a picture of Maia pulling him closer.
Jealousy, pain, anger all hit his gut at once. He didn’t want to believe that she would cheat on him but photos didn’t lie. How could she betray him? It was true he hadn’t called her or texted in a little while but did that warrant her running off with someone else?
His father handed him another one with a feature on the Singapore F1 where Maia was at a table with racer and notorious womanizer Riccardo Vitalli, enjoying drinks. He crushed the magazines in his hand and tossed them aside. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Papa.”
“I showed it to you because I wanted you to see what you were doing.” He patted his son on the shoulder. “When was the last time you talked to Maia?”
“A few days ago.” It wasn’t the case and they both knew it. He revised his answer. “A couple of weeks.”
“Are you sure?”
The tone of his father’s voice irritated him, but he pulled out his phone to check his outgoing calls. According to the listed dates it had been a couple of months at least since he’d last called her. He had to have texted her more recently than that. He checked. Those too were far down the list. And there were a few texts from her that he hadn’t seen. He flicked through them and he could see that she’d progressed from flirty, to worried, to resigned. The few messages she’d left were the same. He swore under his breath.
“It might not be as bad as you think. You know as well as I do how easily a photo can be manipulated and misconstrued.”
Sure, it could have all been very innocent. But what were the odds of she and Tomas accidentally meeting up when he knew Maia was flitting from one side of the planet to the other while Tomas did the same? It had to take some coordination to find the time and meet.
Alex gritted his teeth. But from the way that she’d behaved when they were together, she was as enamored with him as he was with her. She had to be. He couldn’t be the only one to feel the chemistry, the connection.
But she and Tomas did have a past. One that Tomas made clear he had been eager to resume. With him out of the way, had the other man simply stepped in? Had Maia let him?
Anger flared. Was this some game for her? A way to get back at him? She’d said she didn’t blame him for how things ended the last time, but had she meant it? He had to wonder if her hatred of him ran deeper than even she realized.
Alex raked his hands through is hair. “When was that published?”
Guillaume shook his head. “The last is from this month. The other, from the month before.”
“But the photos could have been taken at any time between this week and the last time I saw her, couldn’t they?”
“It’s fathomable. But I want you to use your head. I don’t think that Maia would do anything to hurt you. If you look at the photos, it’s all very innocent.”
He didn’t want to look at them again. But he picked up the magazines and smoothed the pages so he could get a better look. He scoured the images of Maia and Tomas closely. Sure enough they were just eating. Maia looked more interested in the content of her plate than what was going on around her. In the one of them walking, they weren’t so much together as Tomas following her. And the one of her pulling him toward her, a closer inspection of her hand showed it was flat. She had been pushing him away. It didn’t mean that it was all innocent off camera. His eyes zeroed in on the one of her kissing him on the cheek. But it didn’t warrant jumping to conclusions either. Chloe had taken the pictures wanting things to look suggestive, even if there was nothing in them to warrant speculation.
Fury at himself and at Chloe descended in a red haze. He didn’t even bother looking at the other magazine. He had been the one to push her away. If she thought he
had cut her out of his life again, why wouldn’t she look for someone else?
The thought of Maia in another man’s arms twisted his gut.
Alex quickly picked up his phone and dialed. “If you’ll excuse me, Papa, I’ve got some things to sort out.”
“Of course, son.” His father gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Just trust in your feelings for each another. Don’t let outside forces influence you.”
“Stop worrying, Papa.” Alex couldn’t say the same for himself. He studied his father a moment. He wasn’t as concerned as Alex was. “You believe things will work out for us?”
“Son. You two are good together if only you could just get away from these walls you put up around yourselves. First you don’t believe her, then she finally lets you in, then you find a way to distance yourself with this fool’s errand.” Guillaume closed his hands over Alex’s shoulders. “You have a real chance at happiness here. Don’t let it slip away because you can’t let go of the past.”
Guillaume left his son to contemplate what he was doing to his life.
* * * *
Maia got on the packed train to Zermatt not too long after dinner. Already the snow had started to come down. It was hard to imagine that the fluffy flakes would turn into something life-threatening as the world outside slept under a thick white blanket while they rushed past.
She settled back and attempted to do a little reading on her phone. It would be so easy right now just to curl up in a ball in her seat and fall asleep. Maia forced herself to focus on the words, refusing to give in to the urge.
The same page had been staring her in the face for quite some time when a pleasant voice over the PA broke the silence. The discontented murmurs from around her washed away the hazy clutches of sleep. Whatever was just said wasn’t good news.
The voice spoke again, this time in English. “Please be advised that because of adverse weather conditions, we will be unable to continue to Zermatt…”
