Xander sipped his third glass of wine, which meant it went down in five swallows instead of one or two, then leaned forward on his elbows. “So, what are the two of you doing here?”
“We’re having a little holiday.”
“Shouldn’t you be at school?”
Blair shrugged. “This was the best time for us to get away. Sam’s a tennis player, Uncle Xander.”
“Tennis?”
“Yes. Quite a good one, too.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing, I suppose. Except it means he only gets six weeks off a year and they’re right now.”
“That’s horrible. You work too hard, boyfriend.” The waiter scurried back up to the table, setting down a basket containing an assortment of breads and crackers. “You said in your message that you needed a favor. Oh! And I have your spare phone.”
He pulled an iPhone identical to the one that Blair had dunked in the Danube from his pocket and tossed it across the table. She caught it, dropping it in her purse without looking at me. It didn’t bother me that she hadn’t mentioned asking for a new phone, but it did bother me that she clearly didn’t want to talk about it.
Maybe she’d been enjoying life without one, too.
“Sam and I borrowed a car from a friend in Belgrade. We’re going to leave it at the port in Athens, but we need to get it back to her. Also, I need some cash. Five thousand should do it.”
A chunk of bread stuck in my throat. She’d asked for five thousand dollars as though it wasn’t any different from asking for a mint after dinner, and Xander hadn’t flinched. My curiosity about him, about her father, about the life they led ramped up every time she let a new bit of information slip, but this encounter had increased it by leaps and bounds.
The phone rang in her purse. Blair leaned over and peeked at the incoming call. If I hadn’t been looking at her I would have missed the flash of resignation that crossed her face, so sad and poignant that it made it hard to breathe. Our eyes met for the briefest of moments, and in the space of a breath her expression settled back into the contentment we’d enjoyed over the past thirty-six hours—but it didn’t look quite right around the edges. An ill-fitting mask.
“Okay, so return a car to Belgrade and hand over some cash. Do I get to know details? What’s the money for?”
“Nothing in particular. We just aren’t quite ready to go home yet.”
“You’ve been in Serbia and Santorini.” His eyes narrowed. “Where next?”
“I’m going to take him sailing.”
“Hoo-boy, tennis boyfriend, you’re in for a treat. I’ve only ever met one sailor in this whole world better than this girl’s daddy, and that’s this girl. Could sail rings around anyone in the world by the time she was ten.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask where and how we were going sailing, but that was probably the kind of thing actual couples talked about before bringing it up in public.
Xander took another swig of wine, then winked at me. “Course, our girl learned many things from her daddy, and she keeps them honed, too. Practice makes perfect, and all that.”
Blair winced as food appeared in front of us, the waiter so quick and quiet that I didn’t hear him come or go. I had a hard time tearing my eyes from her face, trying to see past the mask, to guess what exactly Xander meant by her keeping in practice. Blair’s breathing quickened enough for me to hear it sitting next to her, and I heard her swallow.
Xander dug into his plate with as much gusto as he’d attacked his wine a few minutes ago, oblivious to the fact that he’d caused a quiet panic attack in his honorary niece. He sounded exactly how I imagined a pig would sound, snorting supper up from its trough.
I ate on autopilot, my mind a million miles away trying to make sense of the jumble of feelings inside me, the girl beside me, the days ahead. Whether or not I would ever see that money again, whether I even cared anymore. I felt stronger than I had in months. The tennis Blair and I had played had been energetic; I hadn’t pulled many punches, and my abs felt great. This was going to be a good season, and with any luck, it wouldn’t be the last.
And I would be fine.
I would be fine without Blair, without the money. So why did it make me so sad to think about walking away, about going back to the world where I belonged—the world I loved?
We finished the dinner with me adding little to the conversation. Blair snapped out of whatever had set her off, chattering with Xander about tides and the woman from the village, musings about what resorts would be the biggest sellers the coming summer.