I See London 1 (14 page)

I felt like I was in a movie.

Mya nudged me. “Gorgeous, isn’t it?”

I nodded, words failing me. The boat stopped in front of a large building that vaguely resembled a palace. There weren’t words for this moment, nothing I could use to do justice to the beauty surrounding me. It was like I’d traveled back in time, to a world I’d only ever read about.

“Hotel Danieli,” the driver announced.

I gaped at the building. It was everything Mya and Fleur had promised and more.

The driver unloaded our bags, handing them off to a hotel porter. Women dressed in fur coats and men in suits walked around outside the hotel. I tugged self-consciously at the belt on my own gray coat. No matter how elegant I felt, I was beginning to realize I would always lack the requisite thousand-dollar designer bag or Manolo Blahniks to really fit in. Still, just being here, in the face of so much beauty and history, was enough.

The lobby was all marble and gold and sculpted archways. It was impossible to not feel like a princess. “Are we seriously staying here?”

“My father only stays at the Danieli when he’s in Venice. It’s the best hotel in town.”

“I’m afraid to touch anything,” I hissed to Mya.

She laughed. “Yeah, Fleur’s standards are a bit higher than mine.”

“Who doesn’t Fleur have higher standards than?” I asked wryly.

Thankfully the guy at the front desk spoke better English than our water taxi driver and we checked in with ease. Fleur booked us a suite to share. We had a perfect view of the city.

Fleur grinned. “Was this a fabulous idea or was this a fabulous idea?”

“It was a fabulous idea,” I conceded. “So what’s on the agenda for the night?”

Fleur shrugged. “Dinner somewhere. I’m sure the concierge can recommend something. Then we hit up this fabulous club Samir told me about.”

That sounded expensive.

Mya shook her head, already sensing my argument. “Just go with it. This is Fleur’s show. We’re all just living it.”

* * *

The next day we set out exploring Venice. We were only there for two nights and not even three full days so I wanted to make the most of it. Mya and Fleur had already been to Venice and done most of the touristy stuff, but they were nice enough to show me around. We went to St. Mark’s Square, took a gondola ride on the Grand Canal and ate the best pizza I’d ever had in my life.

We walked everywhere.

That evening we went back to change, throwing on our best clothes to go out again. We went to dinner at a little restaurant the concierge recommended, dining on a feast of pasta and chicken, gorging ourselves on bread and wine. I had already felt stuffed in Fleur’s borrowed cocktail dress. Dinner merely intensified the effect.

“Let’s walk,” I suggested, wincing as we rose from the table. “I definitely need the exercise after a meal like that.”

“Good call. I haven’t worked out with my trainer in two days.”

I pulled a face at Mya. She giggled. Even at a school as extravagant as the International School, Fleur was the only student I knew who actually had their own personal trainer. Unfortunately she was also in way too good of shape for me. Between the high heels and my short legs, I struggled to keep up as she led us through the streets of Venice.

“Exactly how far away is this place?” I huffed. At least Mya didn’t appear to be enjoying the walk anymore than I was. Although she did have a height advantage.

“Probably just a mile or two away.” Fleur waved her hand vaguely. “It can’t be too much farther.”

“A mile or two? You said it was close! There’s no way I can walk another mile or two in these heels.” I glanced down at my watch. “We’ve already been walking for fifteen minutes.”

“We should have just called a cab,” Mya complained.

Fleur glared at us. “Stop bitching. It’s not that much farther. A little exercise never killed anyone.”

The farther we walked, the more the area changed from restaurants and shops to dark alleyways that looked more residential than anything else. Our surroundings were also starting to look less and less like the glitz of St. Mark’s Square and more and more like…well…whatever the Italian word for
seedy
was.

Mya stopped in her tracks, her eyes narrowing. “We’re lost.”

Fleur rolled her eyes. “We’re not lost.”

“We’re definitely lost.” I spotted a woman walking across the street. “Look, why don’t you go ask her for directions?”

“Or look at the map?” Mya suggested, obviously annoyed.

“I don’t need a map. I’ve been to Venice before. I know my way around.”

“Obviously not,” Mya snapped.

Surprise filled me. Mya never lost her temper like this. “Enough. Fleur, just go talk to that lady before she gets away. I’m sure she can help us out.”

“Fine.” Fleur walked away with a huff, crossing the street.

Mya and I watched as she spoke to the woman.

Mya sighed, turning to me. “Sorry to freak out like that.”

“I’m just as freaked out as you are.”

“This isn’t the greatest neighborhood.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.”

Fleur sauntered back over to us.

“Well, what did she say?” I asked.

“She didn’t speak English or French.”

“Why didn’t you speak to her in Italian?” Mya pointed out, annoyance creeping into her tone.

“I tried, but it wasn’t really enough to work things out.”

“I thought you said you could speak Italian.”

Fleur shrugged. “No, I said I studied in Italy for a semester in high school. That doesn’t mean I learned any.”

I rolled my eyes.

Fleur fisted her hands on her hips. “Besides, we wouldn’t be lost if you had actually read the map properly.”

She was definitely not blaming me for this one. “I told you I have a terrible sense of direction.”

“Obviously,” Fleur snapped.

“Okay. Stop it,” Mya interjected. “This isn’t helping. You both suck at directions. Give me the map.”

I handed it over without any hesitation. It might as well have been Greek for all I understood it. I looked up at the street signs, trying to figure out where the hell we were. Our surroundings looked residential. How far had we wandered off the main road?

“We’ve been going in circles.” Fleur pulled out her cell phone, stamping her Manolos. “It’s one in the morning. We’re missing out on the party. We’re lost in the middle of Venice. I’m calling for help.”

“Who are you going to call?”

“The hotel. Someone. Anyone.” Fleur waved her hand impatiently. “I’m not staying around here in this hovel, waiting to end up dead on the streets.”

I rolled my eyes. “Drama queen.”

“Will you both shut up?” Mya waved the map in the air. “I figured it out. We were on the right path, we just took a wrong turn back there by the McDonald’s. If we can get back there, we can retrace our steps.”

“I’m not walking another step,” Fleur snapped. “I’m wearing my favorite Manolos. These streets are cobblestone. Not happening.”

I glared at her. “Will you stop bitching? You’re not helping.”

Amazingly enough, that quieted her down.

Mya studied the map. She turned in the direction opposite the one we had come from.

“I think if we go down that street, we’ll be fine. If we just keep walking the street should intersect with the one we need.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. Lead the way.”

Chapter 19

By the time we reached the bar, we were each in varying stages of pissed off.

Fleur stomped in ahead of us.

“She’s in a mood tonight,” Mya whispered. “Trust me, when she gets like this it’s best to just give her some space.”

Fleur made a beeline for the bar, leaving the two of us in her wake.

“It doesn’t seem like she’s really interested in hanging out with us, anyways.”

“She’ll get over it. She gets really flustered when things don’t go her way. Like the situation with Costa. And getting lost tonight.”

“I wish she would get over Costa. I thought coming here, taking a break from everything at school would help her out. Instead it seems like she’s just as distracted and upset as she was before.”

Mya shrugged. “Whatever. I’m not going to spend our whole night in Italy dealing with Fleur’s bitchy mood.”

I couldn’t help but agree with her.

We headed toward an empty table. Mya flagged down a waiter. I scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of Fleur. She stood at the bar, her back toward us, talking to a tall, dark-haired guy. I couldn’t make out his face.

“Figures,” Mya muttered. “Trust Fleur to find someone.”

I was surprised by the anger in her voice. “Is everything okay? You seem a little on edge lately.”

“Sorry.”

I shook my head. “Please. You don’t have to be sorry. I’m worried about you.”

Mya’s lips pursed in a bitter line. “I’m afraid the situation is beyond help.”

“It might help to talk about it.”

The waiter brought our drinks over, silence yawning between us.

“My dad’s been having an affair.”

My jaw dropped.

“I don’t know how long it has been going on or who she is, but I saw them together outside the Ritz a few weeks ago. After that I started following him. Turns out every Tuesday afternoon he leaves work and they meet at a different hotel in London.”

“I’m so sorry. Are you sure—I mean, is there a chance that maybe it’s something else entirely?”

Mya laughed bitterly. “Yeah, not so much. I saw them kissing. And not a friendly European-style kiss. He had his arms around her.” She took another sip of her drink. “The girl looked like she was only a few years older than me.”

Yuck.

“Do you think your mom knows?”

I’d met Mya’s mom a few times and it was hard to imagine anyone cheating on her. She looked just like Mya—the same flawless coffee-colored skin, long, slim legs, perfect straight, dark hair.

Mya shook her head.

“Are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know.” Mya gulped down the rest of her champagne. “I thought about it. She deserves to know. But I just can’t imagine saying the words.” Her expression was grim. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m not mad at you. I didn’t tell you what was going on—there’s no way you would have known.” She sighed. “I’m not really mad at Fleur either. Things have just been tough lately. The situation just sucks. I can’t imagine having divorced parents.”

“Well, if you have any questions on the single-parent thing, I can definitely answer them.”

“How bad is it?”

“It sucks,” I admitted.

“You never talk about your family. What’s the deal with that?”

I didn’t even know where to begin. Even though Mya was going through shit with her family now, she at least
had
a family. She had two parents who loved her. She would never know what it felt like to not be loved by the people who were supposed to love you the most.

“There’s not really much to tell. My dad’s gone a lot with work, so I live with my grandparents.”

“And your mom?”

Couldn’t even be bothered to send a birthday card or check in on her daughter. For all I knew, she had a new family now.

“I have no idea where she is. She left when I was practically a baby. I don’t remember her or anything. And it’s not like she keeps in touch.”

“That had to have been rough.”

I’d never told anyone how I felt about my mom. My dad certainly didn’t talk about her. I didn’t even know how to explain it—

I felt abandoned. Completely abandoned.

“I guess. I mean, it’s not like I could miss her when I don’t remember what it was like to have her around.”

Lies. All lies. The truth was, not a day had gone by that I hadn’t felt the absence of my mother. There were so many times I wished she was there to talk to, to ask for advice. My grandmother tried her best, but it wasn’t always easy for us to connect with such a huge age difference between us. And it wasn’t so much my mother’s absence that hurt as it was what her absence meant.

She hadn’t loved me enough to stay. Or to take me with her.

I tried to smile, reaching out and squeezing Mya’s hand. “I’m sure everything will be okay. If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know. Even if you just need to talk.”

“Thanks.”

I turned my attention back to the bar. “Do you see Fleur?”

She scanned the crowd. “No.”

“Maybe she’s in the bathroom?”

“I’ll go check it out.” Mya sighed. “I probably owe her an apology anyways.”

I sat at the table, sipping my drink, waiting for them to both come out. A few minutes later Mya emerged by herself.

“Did you find her?”

“No, she’s not in there and no one has seen her.”

I pulled my phone out, dialing Fleur’s number. The call went straight to voice mail. “No answer,” I mouthed to Mya. I left Fleur a quick message, telling her we were worried and asking her to call us. “What do we do now?”

“I have no idea. I guess we just wait around to see if she comes back. We can’t leave her here.”

We sat at the bar waiting for Fleur for an hour. She never showed. Neither did the guy I saw her talking to earlier.

She didn’t call us back, either.

“Maybe she went back to the hotel,” Mya suggested. “Wherever she is, she definitely isn’t here.”

We grabbed our coats and headed toward the exit. Mya hailed a cab. We rode in silence.

“I’m worried about her.”

Mya’s voice was grim. “So am I. She’s just been so off the rails lately. She isn’t handling any of this well.”

“What’s the big deal with this guy? I don’t get it. I mean, yes, he’s hot, but there has to be more to it than that.”

Mya sighed. “They’d been together for years. Since before we came to London. When I knew her in Switzerland, she and Costa were dating. I really think she loved him. And he can be very charming when he needs to be. He was always taking her on romantic trips, buying her expensive jewelry. We were all jealous of her back then. He was the perfect boyfriend—except when he wasn’t. I think he probably always cheated, but it wasn’t in her face enough for Fleur to realize it until they came to London. That girl he cheated with—Natasha—is now his girlfriend.”