Page 42 of Say You Will

I place both hands on the table and lean over into her space. “I don’t care what you think.”

I turn and walk away. My knees and hips ache, but I control my expression and my limp as I leave the restaurant. When I “dressed the part” this morning, I chose fashionable shoes that look great with this outfit but do a horrible job of “shoe-ing.” At least for me. They’re pretty torture devices I willingly subjected myself to.

I keep walking, faster and faster. As the crowd mills and shoves around me, I come to a standstill to catch my breath, my heart pounding in my chest. I can’t believe I cut her out of my life like a scratchy tag in a piece of clothing. My breaths grow easier as the stress surrounding our conversation subsides.

I snort. She was so shocked that I’d stood up for myself that she didn’t even know how to respond. I don’t have a doubt in my mind that her late arrival was a power play. It’s something my mother does to make people feel at a disadvantage. I gave Pen the benefit of the doubt, but the longer she talked, the more obvious her attempts at manipulation became. I guess I am different than the girl she knew in boarding school, because I read her like a book.

“Francesca?” A male voice sounds behind me, deep and unfamiliar. Warily, I turn to look.

“I thought that was you.” The thirty-something man, wearing a blue suit tailored to perfection, stands a couple of inches shorter than Henry, with dark blond hair and sharp green eyes.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Smiling, he puts out a hand to shake. “I’m Leo Kingston.”

Yikes. He was supposed to text, and I was supposed to pretend he had the wrong number. I also thought he was going to be my dad’s age.

I ignore his hand, pretending I have to fidget with the straps of my purse to avoid it. When he’s dropped his own, but still retains his charming smile, I say, “Jonny mentioned you. It’s nice to meet you. This is awkward, but my father didn’t know when he spoke to you that I was seeing someone.”

It’s a lie, but I’ve found over the years that it’s far safer to provide a “mystery partner” than outright look a stranger in the face and say,“No thank you. I’m not interested.”

Some men respond to rejection with good grace, but there’s no way of knowing for certain whether Leo will be one of those or one who gets angry and aggressive. It’s why when the men calling me “Dollar Store Guinevere Jones” approached me at the hotel, I’d smiled while they insulted me.

Leo’s expression turns rueful. “I saw photos of you with McRae, but you never know what’s real when it comes to social media.”

I wrinkle my nose and laughingly shake my head. I hadn’t wanted to put a name to my fake boyfriend.

Leo’s attention zeroes in on my ring finger. “He hasn’t locked you down yet.”

This guy gives me the creeps.

Leo’s eyes crinkle at the corners, and he puts his hands in his pockets, leaning toward me. “You’re not married, Francesca. Why not explore your options? I won’t tell if you don’t.”

My mouth turns down in disgust.

He leans back, his expression charming, but, somehow, predatory. “Not much of a talker, are you? Dr. Henry McRae has you wrapped around his little finger, then?”

I snort. If I disagree, he’ll claim I’m available. If I don’t, he’ll make a crack about breaking free from my “controlling”relationship. Leo Kingston has nothing on Guinevere Jones’s skill at manipulation. He’s a rank amateur in comparison.

He smirks. “Nice. I had it backward. Henry McRae is your puppy.”

I tense in case he retaliates and stare him down. “You’ve clearly never met him. No one manipulates or controls Henry.”

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip. “A loyal woman. I thought those were a myth. I imagine Henry would be a very sad boy if anyone took you away from him. I imagine he’d do almost anything for a woman like you.”

“I have somewhere I need to be. Excuse me.”

“Of course.” He stretches out his hand and slides a thick black acrylic business card with a lion’s head logo printed on it in gold into the front pocket of my purse. “This may seem a little off topic, but your father mentioned you have a history degree. I’ve recently purchased an older hotel in Chicago, and I’d like to restore it as faithfully as possible. I’d love for you to take a look at it.”

I blink stupidly, frozen in fear, while I process how close he came to me and his change in tactics. Belatedly, I step out of his reach.

He nods toward my purse. “It’s a paid position. If your boyfriend turns out to be more Beast than Prince Charming after all, or you need a great hotel room,” he laughs at his own sales pitch. “Or anything at all,” he dips his head to the card and winks. “The QR code will load my private number into your contacts. I’m not stingy.”

Leo smiles and gives me a salute. “Until we meet again, sweet Francesca.”

thirteen

Franki

Someone to Stay | Vancouver Sleep Clinic

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