booked with Tarquin.”
Tarquin? A breath caught in her throat. She’s still in touch? She never mentions him. Leia trotted to the north side of East 49th Street before the light flipped to red. “Oh yeah? How come? I thought there wasn’t anything more to discuss with him.”
“There’s tons to discuss. He just needed some building permits and a few property surveys to come in before we could proceed.”
“Oh, good.” Leia jagged left and joined the army of pedestrians crossing Third Avenue. “So…how is he?”
“He’s good. I would’ve suggested another day, but his schedule is tight,” said Sarah. “He said he’s off to the Orkney Islands for a four-day weekend.”
Probably wreck diving, seeing his little niece. Yeah, he must be taking a break from being so busy. Mrs. Chuzzlewit’s Instagram hasn’t been updated in weeks.
Sarah continued. “By the way, did Simon mention anything to you…?”
“About Tarquin’s Orkney trip? Why would he?” Leia swallowed, her craving for water testing her patience and pushing her toward cranky-town—population, all of sweltering Manhattan. The last Simon mentioned him was, gosh, a few weeks ago? Freddie was all aflutter over Tarquin’s date with a celebrity chef, Cressida something or other. I Googled her after Simon said they just didn’t click. Leia adjusted her grip on the two garment bags. “Tarquin goes there all the time.”
“I don’t mean Scotland. Tarquin is off the market. He’s got a girlfriend, a new chef on TV, Cressida Davey.”
What?! But Simon said—she’s his GIRLFRIEND now?! A wave of nausea rolled in Leia’s belly. Damn heat. I need water—STAT! She weaved through a stream of people on East 49th Street headed in the opposite direction. “Uh, no…he didn’t.”
“I’m so not a fan. She adds chickpeas to everything. So gross.” Sarah rambled without taking a breath. “Their taste, their texture—needless to say, I won’t be buying her cookbooks. She seems nice, though, on TV. Tarquin’s cousin is getting married in Kirkwall on Sunday, so she’s going up with him.”
As his girlfriend. Leia’s stomach lurched. Did Tarquin cook for her—or maybe they cooked together? Did that seal it for him? She squeezed the canvas shoulder straps of her Met tote. I bet they’re having tons of sex. Alex’s words flashed through her mind—“He’s incredibly passionate and hands-on in the kitchen”—paired with her own memory, perched on his counter, fingers tangled in his hair, Tarquin’s open mouth between her thighs. God, I miss it—I miss him. She let out a loud sigh.
“Leia? Earth to Leia? Did you melt into the sidewalk?” Sarah’s giggle distorted through the phone.
She shook her head. “Oh! Sorry! It’s just—I’ve got a million things screaming from my to-do list. I’m a bit preoccupied. Uh, can you hang on a…” Breaths coming hard and fast, she lowered her phone and fussed with the high neckline of her dress, the material feeling too constricting, too hot, too much. I fucking hate this weather! Wincing, she swept away perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand and returned to the call. “They must be serious, then, Tarquin and this chef? If he’s taking her to meet family.”
“I guess…” Sarah paused. “Ley, I thought your infatuation was long gone.”
“It is!” Leia blurted. Isn’t it? “I’m just glad he’s happy. I’m happy—for him.”
“Yeah, me too. Do you want me to say hi for you tomorrow?”
Leia’s chest tightened. “Uh, no! No. I was just, you know…” Fuck. She halted on the sidewalk and closed her eyes briefly, letting a red-faced jogger struggle past. I threw Tarquin back and Cressida caught him. She’s not to blame, I am—no one else. I’m my worst enemy. Scared of love, of giving myself completely to another man, afraid I’ll end up hurt and alone again. She let out a stuttering breath. Oh, the irony. Clearing her throat, Leia pinned on a grin and continued on her way. “So, uh, my text last week, did you r—”
“Oh, shit! Sorry!” said Sarah. “I only saw it this morning. I don’t know how we did it, but we stayed unplugged the entire time down in Cornwall.”
“Ah, right. Well, it was no big deal.”
“Leia, you looking after vintage Dior isn’t a big deal?! C’mon, be honest—did you pee a little when Violetta told you?”
Leia snort-laughed. “Almost. Oh, Saz, it’s beautiful. I swear it’s the most magical gown I’ve ever set eyes on, and I get to make its custom storage mount! I keep pinching myself.”
“For good reason! And to think you almost quit the Institute.”
If it wasn’t for Tarquin… talking me out of