Page 83 of Angels Are Falling

“Not a problem.” And I truly meant it.

“Text me when you’re done with your drink. I’ll have the driver pull up the car for us.” He dropped some cash for the check, simultaneously answering the call with a curt, “Cavendish.”

Just as he rose from the table, he paused. He was speaking on the phone but looking at me. I frowned, unable to gauge what he was thinking. To my shock, he bent over and kissed me on the temple, like we were some old married couple, which I supposed we were. The pressure of it lasted only a second. I stared after him as he left the bar, aware, distantly, of the exact spot where his lips had been.

When I broke out of my haze, I smiled, turning my attention to my phone. I scrolled through our pictures from the day. Today had been perfect, almost like a dream. There was only one thing I still couldn’t get out of my head—Stefan. He was in Istanbul, four hours away. It felt wrong to be so close to him and not see him. We had talked about visiting Lebanon together one day. Kai had beaten him to it. I didn’t want to rub that in his face, but I was also sad about not sharing this experience with him.

God, I had no idea what to do.

I looked through my contacts, my thumb hovering over Stefan’s name. I had asked if we could speak later, but he never called me or suggested a time to catch up. I would have told him I was in Beirut and asked about meeting up in Istanbul if only he had called me.

He was probably too busy with Ruby.

I hadn’t called Stefan, either, because it would’ve offended Kai. After our picture-perfect day, I didn’t want to risk it.

I turned the glass in my hand, lost in thought. Polygamous relationships were an enigma to me. Juggling multiple partners seemed impossible. I always considered myself a strictly monogamous person, but now that Kai had weaseled himself into my heart, where did that leave Stefan?

I let my eyes roam the rooftop. We had been tucked away in the corner for privacy, but this space was truly unique. The stone terrace. The string lights. The city below us. The sea at the far edge of everything, dark and present even when you couldn’t quite see it.

The bar had died down. Tables scattered across the stone, low voices, the gentle percussion of glassware. Because there were fewer people now, it was easier to people watch. I turned around and took in my surroundings.

And then I stopped.

There was a table near the far railing on the opposite side. Two people. The man had his back mostly to me, and I had only his shoulders to go on. I didn’t need to see his face because I’d recognize him from any angle. His shoulders moved when someone made him laugh.

The woman beside him was leaning across the table, angled toward him in the easy, unguarded way of someone who had stopped monitoring the distance between them. She was showing him something on her phone. Her other hand was flat against his chest. His head was bent toward hers.

Neither of them had seen me.

I stood from my seat, shocked. Because the man Ruby Sarafina was pressing her body against was none other than Stefan.

Chapter

Twenty-Five

STEFAN

Dubai was everything I had imagined—dramatic, golden, a photographer’s fever dream. The city was glamorous in its own right, but there was also a quieter side to Dubai, such as the desert’s emptiness. The sight of it at dusk made me want to call Amelie and describe it. I didn’t, because it was past midnight her time, and I was more tired than I had accounted for. I tried messaging her instead. The texts were delivered, but she read them hours later. By the time she responded, I was at work. We were still able to provide each other with the pertinent information. She was fine. The kids were fine. Work was fine.

There was a distance between us that had never existed before. Unsure what to do, I shipped her expensive gifts. It was the only way to express my love—by spoiling her rotten. I hadn’t received much feedback and had no idea how my affections were being received.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much time to ponder. The competition buzzed with excitement as young hopefuls gathered around the hotel to perform in front of the three judges. The skyline behind them was a vision in its own right. The crew filled twenty memory cards, and I stayed up until two in the morning, culling through the shots that would have made my college self weep with envy.

To celebrate our successful shoot, Ruby arranged a party at Eclipse, a rooftop club on the seventy-third floor of a tower that overlooked the Gulf like a god surveying lesser geography. The kind of place where the drinks cost what I used to make in a day, and I didn’t even blink. Matt, Will, Marcus, the rest of the magazine crew, and a handful of regional clients filled the private section. This was the energy of a city that knew how to celebrate. The city glittered below in every direction, the water dark and vast beyond the skyline, and the music was the kind that moved through the floor and into your chest before you consciously registered it.

Despite my reservations about leaving Amelie behind, I was, by any reasonable measure, having the time of my life. It could be the drugs running through my veins. We each did a line at a private party before arriving at the club. Cocaine wasn’t just illegal in the UAE, but there was a zero-tolerance policy. It didn’t seem to be a problem in high society, though. One of the clients sourced it through a contact, the kind of arrangement that existed only if you knew the right doors to knock on.

Everything felt enormous and manageable at once. That was the thing about cocaine, it made the world feel like it had been built specifically for the person standing in it.

Ruby found me at the railing, looking out at the water. Two men craned their necks to check her out in her leather pants as she passed. Men were always staring at Ruby and usually gave me a knowing smirk, assuming we were together. Everyone at work thought the same. They teased me nonstop about her being my work wife because we were always together. A part of me reveled in their approving glances, and for pairing me with a renowned rock star, even if it was in their imagination. Who would have thought my childhood idol would end up becoming a close friend, let alone someone I was romantically linked to? Nonetheless, I explained to them several times that I wasn’t in an open relationship. They still grappled with Amelie having a second husband while I remained faithful.

I smiled as Ruby approached me.

“Check your email,” she said, drink in one hand, her phone in the other. “I just sent you an updated itinerary.”

I unlocked my phone. I read the email, frowning. Read the third line twice. Beirut. According to the updated itinerary, we were leaving for Lebanon in the morning, followed by a week in Istanbul.

“What is this? We just got to Dubai. We’re supposed to be here for two more nights.”