the queue. The lights above are blinding. Far too bright and unforgiving. Then again, it suits the environment. Flushing out those who aren’t being honest about what they’re doing here.
Am I being honest?
I move forward another step and the man behind me bumps into my suitcase.
“Scusa.”
I give him a small, forgiving smile. I wonder what his story is. Is he running from something? From someone? Or is he trying to help them? Or is he doing all three? Am I doing all three?
“Sí.” The officer at the desk lifts an arm and beckons me over. I stand in front of his desk and hand him my passport. He opens it to the photo page and looks at me. I smile because doesn’t everyone smile when they do this? It feels rude not to. He doesn’t smile back. But as he holds it up, something falls out, and he pauses, picking up the piece of paper and looking at it before he hands it back to me.
“Nice picture,” he says in a thick Italian accent. His eyes flick to his screen as he types something in. Then he passes my passport back. “Have a nice stay.” He gives me the briefest nod and dismisses me.
I move to the baggage belt and look at the photograph in my hand as I wait for my luggage. I don’t know why I printed a copy. Denial? Thinking if I looked at it that I could tell myself we were nothing special. That I shouldn’t feel this gut-wrenching pain when I think about him. Or maybe self-sabotage? Because I need to punish myself. I need to look at this every day and understand what I did. Who I lost. Who I never deserved.
Why I did what I did to him.
Logan’s grin leaps from the image. His arm is around me on the tiny roof area of The Vatican. We’re surrounded by other tourists, all taking in the breath-taking views of the world surrounding them. But him and I are in our own world. Lost in a bubble, staring at the camera. Glittering green eyes alight with mischief next to brown ones. Brown ones shining with warmth above a small but genuine smile.
A smile I never even felt touch my lips that day.
But it was there anyway. It always has been.
We look like a couple. Except we weren’t. We aren’t. We never will be.
I collect my suitcase and make my way out through customs, catching a cab outside. The driver asks where I want to go, so I tell him in my best Italian, showing him the written name of the place as confirmation. He nods and we drive away.
I sink into the seat as I stare out the window. I haven’t thought this through properly. It was all a whim. I asked Eve for extended leave at the last minute, with the option to work remotely for a while. I don’t know how long it’ll take to do what I’m planning. And I doubt it will work. But I have to try. I can’t stay and watch Logan lose everything. I know I’ve already lost him. He’ll have read the article. He’ll hate me now.
It’s for the best.
Things are exactly as they should be.
Who knows, maybe I’ll like working remotely. I’m not the only one at In-Sync who does it. If Eve is happy with my work, then I never need to go back. I can travel to interview people and do everything online. And the agent said they have a cash buyer interested in my apartment. So it’s all working out. This is a good thing.
This is a good thing.
Maybe if I repeat that in my head enough times, I’ll believe it.
My phone rings and I take it from my purse.
“Drew?”
“How was your flight?”
He sounds pissed. He didn’t want me to leave, tried to talk me out of it. He took my suitcase out of the car twice. It was only when I broke down in tears and told him staying would destroy me that he put it back in and drove me to the airport himself.
“It was good,” I say without conviction.
We fall silent. I want to ask him so badly, but I don’t know how or if I should or—
“He knows you’re gone now.” Drew’s voice softens. “I gave him your message.”
“He does?” A sob catches in my throat and my eyes burn. “What did he…? You know what? Don’t tell me.”
“What did you send him, Maddy? I’ve never seen him like this before. He’s…” Drew curses softly and my heart tears in two.
“Something he had to see,” I croak.
“Well, whatever it was, you need to speak to him. He went to see Spencer with Gabrielle. The three of them talked for hours. Things have happened that you don’t know about, Maddy. If only you’d fucking stayed.” He sighs, and the weight in his words has my heart clenching painfully in my chest.
They’re moving on.
“They’ll be happy, won’t they?” I sniff, needing to hear it. Needing confirmation that this feeling of complete despair I have isn’t for nothing.
Drew clears his throat, his voice coming out hoarse. “Logan said Spencer’s the happiest he’s ever seen him. Over the fucking moon about it all.”
“Oh.” My voice is tiny, stripped of all its strength.
I left all my strength in London.
“I need to go, we’re almost there,” I murmur, looking out of the cab’s window.
“Wait, Maddy. You need to speak to Logan—”
I squeeze my eyes shut, my chest tightening painfully. “I don’t. Everything he needs to know was in my email.”
“Mad—”
“I’m sorry. I love you. I’ll call again soon.”
I hang up and immediately turn my phone off, ignoring all the voicemails coming through. I turned it off on the flight, too, welcoming the silence as I sat and watched London disappear from the window. Silence will be my companion from now on. A trusted one.
Logan and Gabrielle. It’s what I wanted. It’s what I told him to do. And after the flowers, I was scared he would never listen. But then he went quiet. Drew said he was out with them, thinking about the future. He said Logan had an epiphany, and that he knew what he had to do. A pathetic part of me hoped that meant he’d come for me, even though that would be the worst decision he’s ever made.
But he didn’t.
And now I understand why. He was with Gabrielle.
Logan’s still only halfway there.
Something still needs to bridge that gap. That fifteen-million wide gap. The sale of my apartment is barely going to make a dent. But it’ll be a start if my next move doesn’t go as planned.
I sit back in my seat, my nerves growing as we approach the marina. I was convinced he wouldn’t still be moored here. And according to his PA, if I’d waited until tomorrow, then he wouldn’t be. Maybe the universe is on my side for once, because as we pull up, I spot the imposing, sleek white vessel sitting in the water.
I pray I have Logan’s luck negotiating today.
I climb out of the cab after we stop and smooth down my skirt. I pay the driver, then take my suitcase from him and wheel it up the jetway.
A member of the yacht’s crew is waiting for me as I approach and helps me onboard, taking my suitcase for me and offering me a drink.
I’m led to the familiar deck, but the table is gone. Instead, I’m shown to a cushioned seating area and told to make myself comfortable. I place my purse down by my feet and sit, inhaling the fresh sea air as I gaze out across the calm water. It’s a direct contrast to the whirlpool spinning inside me.
“Ms. Harper?”
I turn and stand and am swept up in sparkling blue eyes. I can’t stop the pop of heat in my cheeks. I’m not attracted to him in that way. But I can’t deny that there’s something about this man that makes you feel seen. Intense. That’s probably the best word to describe his eyes when they’re on you.
“Mr. Beaufort.” I take his extended hand.
“My friends call me Sterling.”
“Mine call me Maddy.”
Tiny smile lines appear around his eyes, crinkling the skin. “Except Mr. Rich. He told me your name’s Maddox.”
I swallow at the mention of Logan. I knew he’d come up in conversation, but I still wasn’t prepared for the wrench in my gut at hearing his name.
“It is. But he usually calls me Mads. He says it’s because I look mad whenever I see him.”
Sterling chuckles. “Well then, I’d say he considers himself to be a very lucky man.”
I look at him, puzzled as I accept his offer to sit back down.
“I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me,” I say, trying to swallow down the nerves fizzing inside my stomach.
Sterling thanks one of his staff who brings a tray of chilled drinks over. He passes one to me and I wait for him to lift his glass to clink mine before I take a grateful sip. My throat is suddenly drier than a bone in the midday sun.
“I’m intrigued to see what brings you here alone.”
I shift in my seat and smile politely. He’s being sincere. But the acknowledgment that last time I was here was with Logan makes my stomach sink all over again. Everything that makes me think of Logan does that now.
“But first, tell me. How was the opera? Did you enjoy it?” Sterling leans back in his seat like he has all the time in the world.
“Immensely,” I answer truthfully. “It was beautiful. I can’t thank you enough for your generosity.”
“Then don’t.” He smiles. “Just tell me something good came from it and that’ll make me happy.”
“I… Something good came from it.”
It blew the lid off years of misplaced hatred. It’s the night I first started seeing Logan for who he is. And not who I thought he was. It’s the first night I started to see who I’ve been all these years.
And who I don’t want to be any longer.
Sterling watches me carefully.
“It won’t be long until sunset. Being on the water for it is spectacular.” His eyes glint. “Stay and have dinner. It will give us time to talk. You can tell me what made you come here.”
I open my mouth to politely decline, then snap it shut. There is no way to turn down Sterling Beaufort. Especially when I’m here to ask for his help. I’m not naïve enough to think I could walk onboard, have a five-minute conversation with him, and then walk away with the answer to everything. He’ll want to know why I’m here. Why I’m really here. And if I have any hope of getting his help, then I will have to be honest.
I’ll have to tell him everything.
I look at his friendly expression and take a cleansing breath. I can pretend this is therapy. Let it all out. If he says no, I’ll never see him again anyway. He’s a billionaire. We don’t move in the same circles. I’m safe to let it out. At least, I think I am. I hope I am.
“That would be lovely,” I say. “But I should warn you. The truth is… messy.”
He chuckles as he holds his glass around the rim between his fingertips, before bringing it to his lips with a knowing smile.
“When isn’t it?”
