Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 84026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
It was a quick subway ride to the street where Giselle was listed. I stood gazing up at her building—made of glass and steel. It reminded me of the impression I’d gotten of the woman herself. Sharp and cold and undeniably beautiful.
A doorman dressed in a formal uniform pulled the door open for me, tipping his hat as I offered a small smile and headed for the half-moon desk in the middle of the marble lobby.
“Yes, ma’am, how may I direct you?”
I pushed a lock of hair off my cheek. I could only imagine how I looked. Rumpled and tear-stained and utterly pathetic. “I’m here to see Giselle Blanchet, please.”
“Is she expecting you, ma’am?”
My eyes shifted away. “Not exactly. But if you could let her know I’m here. My name is Karys Grant and I’d like to speak to someone who’s staying with her.”
The man frowned. “Of course, ma’am. Just a moment, please.” He turned his body slightly, picking up a phone and dialing. After a moment he hung up. “I’m sorry but she must be out for the evening.”
“Oh,” I said, dejected, more tears threatening. I glanced behind me, back to the cold, dark street. What did I do now? Stand in front of the building and wait for Giselle and Zakai to return?
The man cleared his throat. “There’s a New Year’s Eve party at the rooftop bar, ma’am. Perhaps your friends are there? You’re welcome to leave your bags behind the desk and check for yourself.”
A breath of hope returned. “Oh, the rooftop bar?”
“Yes,” he said, kindly. “You just take that elevator there to the top floor.” He pointed to a bank of elevators to his left.
“Thank you so much. You’re sure it’s okay if I leave my bags for a short time?”
“I’ll take good care of them.”
“Thank you again,” I said, walking my bags around the desk and handing them over. “I can’t tell you how appreciative I am.”
“Happy New Year, ma’am.”
I gave him a grateful smile, heading for the elevators. As the car rose, I smoothed my clothes. They were the baggy, nondescript clothes I’d worn to cross the ocean. This leg of my journey was comprised of far fewer miles, but felt no less daunting. I was the girl without a home again, only this time, I did not have Zakai by my side.
Relax. He’s the other half of you.
Or he was.
Surely he hasn’t forgotten so soon.
I stepped out of the car, chatter and the clinking of glasses just underneath the sound of music coming from somewhere toward the back of the outdoor space. The night was cold, but the heat lamps placed around the perimeter and the numerous moving bodies kept the chill at bay. I moved through the sparkling crowd, each person seeming effervescent with joy as they tilted their heads back and laughed, or drank from flutes of champagne. I felt like a weed among a garden of roses, as though by my very existence I dulled their beauty.
My chest constricted when I saw him, pain and joy, ambivalence and elation, conflicting emotions that beat through my veins to the rhythm of the song that soared through the night.
He was sitting at a high-top table, his gaze trained on the city lights beyond, Giselle standing next to him, leaned across the square table as she gestured and spoke animatedly with another woman in a short, black dress that picked up the lantern light and cast dizzying rainbows my way.
He lifted his head and his red-rimmed, unfocused gaze met mine. His mouth went slack and his olive skin paled. He shook his head slightly as I approached, as though I might be a dream he was slowly waking from.
“Karys?” Giselle asked incredulously, her voice raised over the noise of the party. “Is that you?”
I kept my gaze trained on Zakai. “Hello,” I said far too softly to be heard, imploring Zakai with my eyes, my heart sinking slowly when he remained seated without acknowledging me. He blinked his eyes open wide as if he was having trouble keeping them from falling shut. A waitress I hadn’t notice approach set a glass down in front of Zakai, and the others at the table and cleared the myriad of empty ones already there.
“Hello to you. I see you found Zak. Please join us, won’t you? Everyone, this is Karys. She’s practically Zak’s sister. Isn’t she gorgeous?” I saw Zakai pick up his glass and throw back the clear liquid from my peripheral vision as Giselle reached out and tipped my chin, turning my face, her long red nails scraping across my skin. “I dismissed you based on your height but . . . on second thought . . . maybe print work.” She turned my face in the opposite direction, toward Zakai, and I watched him watch her, his expression blank, his eyes still bleary. “A modern-day Cleopatra. These cheek bones, these lips,” Giselle went on, “are far too photogenic to go to waste. Why attend school when I could make you a millionaire in a matter of months?” She laughed, letting go of my face.