“What is it?”
“We think we’ve located where she is.”
I listen intently. I’ve been searching for this woman for over a year.
“And?”
“If it’s the right woman, and we think that it is, she’s currently in the South of France.”
I frown as I listen. “Are you certain it’s her?”
“I’ll have confirmation this week. She flies completely under the radar.”
“When you have confirmation, I’ll book a flight. I want to meet her in person.”
“Mr. Miles, do you mind me asking what your business is with this woman?” he asks.
“It’s of a personal nature,” I reply curtly.
“Okay, I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you.” I hang up and turn the corner. I don’t know what my fascination with Harriet Boucher is . . . but I need to find out.
She’s calling to me through her paintings . . . and I don’t know why.
But I keep coming back to her, I can’t drop this.
One word describes her.
Extraordinary.
Chapter 12
KATE
I bounce up the stairs and turn and give Elliot a wave; he smiles and gives me a playful salute.
I smile and push the door open. “Hey,” I call to Rebecca.
She comes rushing out of her room. “Oh my God, what happened?” She looks at her watch. “You’re only getting home now? Holy crap, I need all the details.”
“Well . . .” I give her a coy smile and shrug. “It went well . . . I think.”
“What happened?” She lies along the back of the couch.
“We went to dinner and ate in a private dining room.”
“Private dining?”
“Then we went back to his house and it’s a wonder that I can walk.”
Her eyes widen. “You had sex? You never fuck on first dates.”
“I know, but damn it, I should. Because I had the best night ever.”
She smiles dreamily. “Are you seeing him again?”
“Uh-huh.”
“When?”
“He’s picking me up in three hours, actually.”
“Ooh, date the next day, he is keen.”
“We’re going away for a week.”
“What?” She sits up so fast that she overbalances and falls over the back of the couch, lands spectacularly on the ground, and smashes her elbow. “Oww.”
“Oh my God, are you okay?” I rush to her side and help her up. She rubs her elbow. “That fucking hurt.”
I chuckle as I help her to her feet. “Pretty funny, but.”
“You’re going away with him?” she asks, horrified.
“Yeah, what’s that look for?”
“You don’t even know him.”
“So?”
“Are you staying in the same room? What happens when you need to take a crap?”
I open my mouth to speak but no words come out.
“What happens if you fart, or snore . . . or . . .” She throws her hands up in dismay. “Dribble in your sleep? This is a logistical nightmare, Kate. You can’t impress a man with a week-long stayover.”