Page 12 of Finally Found You

“Lysander?” I echo. My voice is barely a whisper as I struggle to say his name. “Is this Lysander Spearman?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Is Kenzy with you?” My voice trembles with a mixture of hope and fear, and my legs feel like they might buckle beneath me.

“She is. Why don’t you tell me where you’re at so we can get you?”

“Umm… at the offices of Spearman LP. I was hoping to find you and—”

“Good. I’ll have our driver bring you to us.”

“It’s not necessary. If you can just bring Kenzy around, I’ll take her home.”

“Sorry, but this isn’t that simple.”

Of course it’s not. Things are about to get a lot more complicated, aren’t they? I don’t respond and just hang up, feeling a knot of anxiety in my stomach. Instead of staying there, I walk outside and call JJ right away. I should call her father, as he requested, but I think I’m out of favors.

“What’s happening?” she answers at once.

“I think I found her,” I nearly stutter, my emotions overwhelming me. Technically, they found me.

“That’s good. Let me call Dad. We’ll charter you back today. The lawyers are already working on your case.”

“She’s with her dad.” I pause and add, “Her father said, ‘sorry, but this isn’t that simple.’”

“What do you mean?”

I relay the conversation to her, detailing every little thing that happened, and all she says is, “Oh, Cam.”

I don’t know how to interpret those two words.

A man only a few feet away from me asks, “Camilla Balsamo?”

I glance around, making sure there are no police officers nearby. There’s no reason for them to throw me in jail, but becoming my cousin’s guardian wasn’t on my bingo card for this year, either. As I look closer at him, I realize this is the guy I… My eyes widen. This is the man I kissed last night, isn’t he?

“It’s you,” I say, my cheeks flushing as I remember our kiss—and the things I fantasized about doing with him until I came to my senses.

He blinks a couple of times, clearly taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Last night we…” I trail off, my face burning even hotter as I struggle to find the right words. He was probably too drunk to remember what we almost did. I’m grateful I came to my senses.

“You’re probably confusing me with someone else,” he says, shifting uncomfortably.

I wave my hand dismissively. “For sure.”

“Are you Camilla?” he asks again, his tone guarded. “I’m here to take you to Kenzington.”

I frown. “Are you Lysander?”

“No.”

“Who are you?”

He shrugs. “Probably Kenzington’s uncle.”

This isn’t good. It seems like her uncle is a drunk who sleeps around, and the ring on his finger tells me he’s either part of an open relationship or a cheater.

I shake my head. “It’ll be best if you bring her to me. Our plane should be leaving soon.”

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