Richard抯 face turns an ugly shade of puce. 揝carlett, lovely to see you, as always. My condolences on your choice of groom.?
He stalks off in the direction of the private bar. I turn my gaze back to the tennis match. Crew抯 hand remains on my back, searing through the thin material.
揑nteresting choice in conversationalist.?
揑 could say the same to you,?I reply loftily.
I can hear a smile in Crew抯 voice. 揝he approached me.?
For some stupid reason, I feel obligated to respond. 揝o did he.?
揑 know. I saw.?
揧ou were watching??
揂lways, Red.?
He can抰 see my face, so I don抰 bother to hide my smile.
After the tennis match ends, I promise Jacqueline I抣l meet her for breakfast tomorrow morning. She spent most of the match flirting with Henriq Popov, who is the odds-on favorite to win the French Open, instead of discussing business.
揥here to next??Crew asks as we leave the private box.
揢m厰 Truthfully, I don抰 have anything definitive planned until dinner with Jacques tonight. Admitting that feels like a weakness, as stupid as that sounds. I rely on looking busy around Crew. Work is always an excuse, something I know he抣l respect. 揑 have nothing planned until dinner,?I admit.
揇inner with who??
揓acques. He抯棓
揟he super in-demand guy you skipped our wedding night for. Yeah, I remember.?
He sounds jealous. 揧ou can come, if you want.?
揑 don抰 want to get in the way.?
I smile. 揑f anyone will be in the way, it抯 me.?
His brow creases with confusion, interrupting his previously bored expression.
揓acques is gay, Crew. If you come to dinner, I guarantee he抣l hit on you.?
Jacques抯 sexual orientation is a pointless clarification, one I only make because I still feel guilty for lying to him about my pretend lover. His only response is to walk toward the exit. I scurry after him a few seconds later.
Crew weaves through the crowds without so much as a jostle. Even among people who have no clue who he is, he抯 not the sort of guy you mow over.
He halts when we reach the sidewalk, leaning down to talk to a driver of one of the many cabs lining the street. After a minute, he stands and beckons me over.
揥hat are you doing??I ask, pulling out my phone. 揑 can call棓
揋et in.?
揑 have a car here.?
揑 know you do. We rode here in it. Get in, Scarlett.?
Part of me wants to argue for the sake of it. I don抰 like to defer to anyone about anything. But a bigger part of me wants to listen梒raves the dominance Crew commands so easily.
Silently, I listen. He doesn抰 walk around to the other side of the cab. I realize he抯 waiting for me to slide over. There抯 something normal about it, so different from the limo rides we抳e shared in the past. I slide, feeling the fabric of my dress bunch up around my thighs as I glide across the leather. Crew pays more attention to my bare legs than he did to the tennis match.
揥here are we going??I ask as the car begins to move.
揧ou抣l see,?is all he says.
I focus on the scenery passing by. We drive by the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe. When the car stops, it抯 by an even more iconic landmark.
I look at Crew. 揝eriously??
揧ep. We can send a photo to your mom to prove we went sight-seeing.?
At that, I smile. Reluctantly. Crew pays the driver, and we join the long line of people walking toward the Eiffel Tower.
揌ave you climbed it before??Crew asks as we walk.
揘o,?I admit.
揗e neither.?
Crew navigates us to the one ticket window without a long line. I stare up at the wrought-iron lattice tower as he buys our tickets. Minutes later, we抮e approaching the start of the steps. Crew is studying the map he took from the ticket window. It抯 annoyingly adorable.
All of a sudden, he stops walking. 揝hit.?
I stop too. 揥hat??I glance around, trying to figure out what抯 wrong.
When I look back at Crew, he抯 staring at me with wide, worried eyes. 揧ou抮e scared of heights.?
I stare back at him, shocked that he remembered. Then I smile. 揑t抯 okay. As long as we抮e not parachuting when we get to the top, I抣l be fine.?
揂re you sure??He still looks concerned. 揥e can go do something else.?
It抯 going to be a real challenge to see Crew as cold and callous ever again. 揑抦 sure. It抯 more of a control thing. I have more faith in the Eiffel Tower staying upright than I did in that one rope at the rock gym keeping me in the air.?I don抰 share the other difference between that outing and today抯： the state of my relationship with Crew.
Crew starts walking again. 揙kay. Stairs or elevator??
I wore flats today. Even if I hadn抰， I still would answer, 揝tairs.?