Vera and I were in the gym, breathless from laughter as she tried and failed to teach me a new yoga pose. I was still teasing her about it when I heard the sharp, unmistakable click of heels echo across the polished floor.
I didn’t need to turn. Only one person walked like that.
Still, Vera and I spun around, mirth still lingering on our faces.
Cynthia stood at the entrance, wrapped in an immaculate designer pantsuit, hair laid to perfection and makeup untouched by travel. Surprise flickered through her eyes first… then curiosity.
“Lucas,” she said slowly, gaze glued to Vera, “you are really having the time of your life.”
I grabbed a towel, wiping sweat off my face. “Cynthia. You finally showed up. I wasn’t expecting you to leave Paris again.”
She scoffed lightly. “Oh, come off it.
