Page 99 of My Lucky Star
I exhaled a deep sigh. “Okay, I’m sorry. I know you’re trying to save my career, but you’ve made all of my decisions lately. Let me make this one.” It wasn’t strictly true. We’d gone to the boat, after all, but I didn’t particularly care about semantics.
Emir growled. “Villa Bosphorus,” he said to Tarik, then turned his attention to his phone, probably to reorganize everything he’d anal-retentively put together.
Despite his frustration, I felt vindicated.
“What was that about?” Aria whispered as Tarik steered us toward the bridge.
Melis had given her a long, sleek trench coat which she’d gratefully wrapped around her shiny dress. Her face was made up to look like a porcelain doll, flawless and ethereal, but her eyes met me openly, the true mirrors of her heart. I wanted to wipe off the layers of cosmetics and reveal her freckle, the sign of the real Aria, the one I wanted.
“Just... me flying across the strait.” I gestured at the bridge rising ahead of us and made a face. She smiled – a smile that hit me square in the chest and gave me energy. With her by my side, I could handle anything, even the guilt over my childish tantrums. Why did I have to act like a spoilt brat, especially in her presence? Did it really matter where we ate?
But driving across the bridge, the city lights flickering against the deep indigo sky, I felt an inkling of freedom.
Chapter 35
Aria
MY STOMACH GURGLEDfrom nerves and hunger as we drove down the narrow cobblestone streets, turning left and right so many times I lost any sense of direction. The nightly Istanbul burned bright with lights glowing from every shop window, streetlamps and overhead fairy lights illuminating colorful mosaics on the walls. Teetering piles of oranges and pomegranates framed the entrances of little shops and eateries. The entire city was alight and alive, making my insides hum like someone plucked on invisible strings.
“This is unreal.” I muttered to myself.
Emir was still with us, as was the driver, who seemed like quite the hot head, leaning on his horn and using expressive hand gestures, many of them involving his thumb.
Cem plucked my hand out of my lap. I braced for the bone-crunching squeeze he’d delivered earlier, but he kept his touch light. “It’ll be over soon.”
I nodded, my chest tightening, because as much as I felt out of my element, I didn’t want this to be over. I didn’t want to let go of him; I didn’t even mind him re-stacking the bones in my hand as long as he kept holding it. Holding me.
The view from the bridge stole my breath. In the distance, the city lights turned into clusters of pin pricks, revealing the expansive scale of human inhabitation. I didn’t understand the words, but I knew Cem had fought Emir to bring me here instead of the private club. Pretending to be Burcu like this, out in the open, terrified me, but I saw the elation on his face and steeled my nerves. I’d do this for him. All those years of acting training had to be good for something.
I focused my thoughts on Burcu and everything I knew about her. How she walked and laughed and gestured. How she touched Cem. If I was to be her, I would have to think and feel like her.
I leaned into Cem, lowering my voice so it wouldn’t be heard from the front seat. “What did Burcu want most in life? What did she care about?”
Cem looked out the window, silent for a moment. “She cared about everybody else. Her family and friends. Animals. Strangers. Other people’s opinions.”
“Opinions?”
