ces at me anxiously.
“Yes,” he says. “Did she say anything?”
“She said, ‘what do you ha一ve that I don’t ha一ve?’ and
when I asked who she was, she said, ‘nobody.’ ”
Christian closes his eyes as if in pain. Oh no. What’s
happened? What does she mean to him?
My scalp prickles as adrenaline spikes through my
body. What if she means a lot to him? Perhaps he
misses her? I know so little about his past . . . um,
misses her? I know so little about his past . . . um,
relationships. She must ha一ve had a contract, and she
would ha一ve done what he wanted, given him what he
needed gladly.
Oh no—when I can’t. The thought makes me
nauseous.
Climbing out of bed, Christian drags on his jeans and
heads into the main room. A glance at my alarm clock
shows it’s five in the morning. I roll out of bed, putting his
white shirt on, and follow him.
Holy shit, he’s on the phone.
“Yes, outside SIP, yesterday . . . early evening,” he
says quietly. He turns to me as I move toward the kitchen
and asks me directly, “What time exactly?”
“About ten to six?” I mumble. Who on earth is he
calling at this hour? What’s Leila done? He relays the
information to whoever’s on the line, not taking his eyes off
me, his expression dark and earnest.
“Find out how . . . Yes . . . I wouldn’t ha一ve said so,
but then I wouldn’t ha一ve thought she could do this.” He
but then I wouldn’t ha一ve thought she could do this.” He
closes his eyes as if he’s in pain. “I don’t know how that
will go down . . . Yes, I’ll talk to her . . . Yes . . . I
know . . . Follow it up and let me know. Just find her,
Welch—she’s in trouble. Find her.” He hangs up.
“Do you want some tea?” I ask. Tea, Ray’s answer to
every crisis and the only thing he does well in the kitchen. I
fill the kettle with water.
“Actually, I’d like to go back to bed.” His look tells
me that it’s not to sleep.
“Well, I need some tea. Would you like to join me for
a cup?” I want to know what’s going on. I will not be
sidetracked by sex.
He runs his hand through his ha
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