Page 45 of My French Love Affair

So, I do the one thing that feels right at that moment.

I turn on my heel and walk in the opposite direction.

Stride away, actually.Gracefully, with dignity, with poise -

Or at least, that’s what I tell myself as I practically stomp across the marble floor.

“Poppy,” Emma calls, tone somewhere between concerned and highly amused as she and Jas hurry after me, their heels clicking against the floor. “What the hell just happened?”

“Nothing,” I say, a little too quickly. “I just - I just need a drink.”

“Uh-huh. And the sudden power-walk has nothing to do with the fact that you just saw something across the room and instantly fled?”

I ignore Jas - who is always far too observant for her own good - and make a sharp detour towards the closest drinks table.

If I’m going to get through this night knowingheis lurking somewhere, then I’m going to need alcohol, and a lot more of it.

I grab the first glass I see, barely acknowledging what’s inside before tossing it down my throat in one swift gulp.

Emma watches me, unimpressed.

“Okay, yeah. Becausethatwas normal.”

“Completely healthy behaviour,” Jas agrees.

I exhale sharply, placing the now-empty glass back onto the table as I force my shoulders to relax.

“Neither of you saw him?”

“Sawwho?” Emma frowns.

Relief washes over me, but I try not to show it.

The last thing I need is them realising who I’m referring to and forcing me into some kind of intervention.

“No one,” I say quickly. “Forget it.”

Jas narrows her eyes suspiciously.

“So let me get this straight: you’re throwing back drinks like we’re about to be drafted into war, but it’s fine, because it’s over…no one?”

Emma studies me for a second, then sighs.

“Alright, you know what? I don’t actually care who or what just sent you into fight-or-flight mode, because we’re heading outside now.” She gestures toward the open terrace. “And we arenotspending the night lurking in a corner overthinking… whatever this is.”

I let out a slow breath and nod.

“Fine. Yes -air. Let’s go.”

* * *

The terrace is just as obscenely luxurious as the rest of the house; all soft lighting, elegant seating and a view of the Monaco skyline that looks so perfect it almost doesn’t seem real.

And then -

“My loves!”

Leah materialises out of nowhere, running towards us at fullspeed inanotherbrand-new dress.

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