Chapter 16
The next morning, London made her way down the sidewalk through the Saturday crowd with lead feet and a heavy heart. She hadn’t been able to sleep with their disaster of a dinner playing on repeat in her head. She couldn’t stay another second inside the hotel room, either—or she wouldn’t leave it until it was time to step on her plane.
In the past few days, she’d mastered authentic Spanish dishes, drank herself into a vermouth oblivion, made mud pies on a romantic family orchard, and had nude pictures taken on the streets of Barcelona, but she couldn’t get one damn man to admit that he, too, had been wrong.
After he’d disappeared last night, she’d sat alone in the restaurant, playing back every moment, every word. And cursed herself for every time she’d been a fool and starte
