Page 16 of City of Love

I do know, however, that if I don’t answer this question now, I’ll have to deal with it later.

“I have some personal matters to attend to,” I say, reluctantly imparting this half-truth on them. I try not to lie, and my words are true, but I’m being intentionally vague.

But I meant what I said to Luc; these guys will never even know Lydia exists. Gabin is a charmer, and Luc is an outrageous flirt—though he’s smart enough to stay away from Lydia. Louis, who’s notoriously indiscriminate about his targets, would probably attempt to lift her valuables within ten minutes of meeting her.

My jaw clenches as I think about all this—about Lydia being around these guys. No, it’s best this way. They’re not bad people, but they’re not for her. None of us are.

When I finish talking, the guys hang out for a bit longer before dispersing into the dusky evening, taking my food with them just like they do every time we meet here. Luc ushers them lazily out the door as I straighten out the futon cover.

“Vic,” I call over my shoulder as the man heads out. He freezes mid stride and then tenses, which tells me he’s not looking forward to this conversation. But he just turns slowly to face me as I pick up a protein bar wrapper from the floor. He rubs the back of his neck—he’s always been a bit nervous, for as long as I’ve known him—but meets my eye. When he does, I speak.

I keep my voice casual as I say, “If you ever pull a stunt like that again, you’re out.” I don’t need to beat him over the head with his mistake—if it evenwasa mistake. He knows what he did; he knows he messed up. “Got it?”

He swallows visibly and nods. “I’m sorry. I just—I saw the watch, and I knew it would be good money, and I…I wanted to help.”

I nod in response. “I know.” In truth, Vic reminds me a lot of myself when I was first starting out; a bit reckless, eagerly gung-ho. I wave toward the open door. “I’m not mad. Just try to be more careful, yeah?”

He nods, looking relieved.

I hold a hand out, glad that talk is done with. “Come on, then,” I say. “Pass it over.”

Vic doesn’t look surprised by my request, and I’m impressed that he doesn’t hesitate to dig in his pocket and pull out one shiny, silver watch. If he had hesitated, it would have told me that he wanted to keep the watch for himself, but he didn’t.

The watch is heavy in my palm, probably pretty fancy, but I slip it into my own pocket without a second glance. I’ll get it in the safe as soon as the guys are gone.

“Try to stay out of the rain,” I say, nodding at Vic. “You’ll get sick.”

When Vic has gone, Luc closes the door behind him. “I think that went well,” he says, stretching and covering a yawn with the back of his hand.

I snort. “Did you expect otherwise?”

He shrugs, making his way to the futon and sinking down on it. His brow furrows as he does, and I can’t say I blame him; it’s not especially comfortable. “I didn’t know what to expect. I’m keeping an eye on everyone for the next month, am I?”

“Yeah,” I say, wincing. “I just sprung that on you. Will that work?”

He shrugs again. “Yeah, that’s fine.” He eyes me in the following silence, and I can tell he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.

I’m fine with that, because knowing him, it’s probably about Lydia. There are other things we need to discuss anyway.

“You got the meeting set up?” I say, finally sitting on the floor, my back against the futon. I let my eyes close as I rest there.

“Yep,” Luc says, sounding as tired as I feel. “Friday at 22:00. Should give us time to get a replacement, yeah?” he says.

Friday at 22:00—five days from now. “That should work,” I say. I’ll have to sneak that meeting in somehow, but it shouldn’t be too hard.

“Hey, don’t you need to go?” Luc says, gesturing out the window to the dying light. “It’s almost night. I thought you were supposed to go meet your girl.”

I don’t bother telling him again that she’s notmygirl; he plainly isn’t listening. I also don’t tell him that I technically already met Lydia; it’s a story I don’t feel like rehashing. Instead I just grunt in acknowledgment and force myself to stand up.

I put the watch in my safe, which only takes a minute or two, and then I’m ready to leave. “Lock up when you go,” I say over my shoulder as I leave. I resist the urge to glance at myself in the mirror; it doesn’t matter what I look like, and it doesn’t matter what Lydia thinks of how I look. I’m not some preening idiot.

I make my way down to the courtyard of my complex, which functions as the parking lot, and get in my car. I take a deep breath before pulling out, steeling myself for the worst.

It’s time to face the wrath of Lydia Alexander.

Chapter 7

Lydia

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