Page 59 of Liar
I don’t care if he notices me here or not.
Not. At. All.
“Eduardo,” I call out, feeling the need to rescue us both. I curl my finger at him. “Come sit by Veronique and me. I was telling her how close we are to perfecting the lift.”
He does as asked and slides into the open seat next to me.
A few minutes later and he’s still a nervous wreck. I frown, puzzled by the cause. I lean in like I’m about to share a secret. “Is it the Bastard?”
“Please, Luciana. Let it drop.”
I nod, curb my curiosity, then go out of my way to distract Eduardo—and myself—fromhim.
Before long, tales of my rambunctious childhood and battles with Diego have everyone laughing. María, of course, slips away from the table at one point, but returns from the restroom looking dejected.
I can’t help but laugh a little louder.
It’s when Veronique pulls the same move and returns with the same pout that my curiosity takes hold.
“What happened?” I ask her, as she repositions herself beside me.
She sighs. “Nada. He barely glanced my way. Then when I came back by his table, he was gone.”
“Gone?” I spin around to look.
Sure enough, the seat at the head of the table is vacant.
I bite my lower lip.No, Luciana. Don’t be foolish. Don’t do it.I place my napkin on the table.
“You’re not fooling anyone, amiga,” Veronique’s voice accompanies me across the room.
I should stop. I really, truly should.
But my heart overrules my head, and I don’t.
* * *
Iexit through the back door and into the darkness, guided by my stubborn sixth sense and self-destructive determination. I blink a few times to adjust my eyes.
He’s not here.
Disappointment sets in, which I quickly chide myself about. What does it matter that he left without so much as a word?
I kick a pebble away with my heel yet derive no satisfaction out of it. I watch it sail away then land with a soft thud less than a yard away.
And that’s when I notice the ember of a lit cigarette illuminating the shadows.
“Trouble always follows me.” His voice snaps like a bullwhip through the air, his words striking my thin skin, tearing me asunder.
“I stepped outside for some fresh air, is all.” I draw up straight. “Shame I didn’t find any.”
The cigarette lands on the ground and is crushed beneath his shoe. He has the power to do that, to smother the fire out of meaningless and trivial things.
I turn to leave.
“Wait.” He steps forward out of the shadows, seeming taller, broader in the shoulders, stronger. He’s taken off his suit jacket, rid himself of his tie, and unbuttoned the collar of his white shirt. His sleeves are rolled up to below the elbows. He’s wearing a watch and flecks of moonlight glitter off its glass face.
An expensive watch, I bet. Worn by a man who manipulates time to his advantage.
