Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Alessia chides herself.
What was she expecting?
The older lady, who must be at least fifty, turns to use the hand dryer, catches Alessia’s eye, and smiles. Feeling encouraged and more confident, Alessia heads into a cubicle.
When she exits, Maxim is there, leaning against the opposite wall, tall and muscular, one thumb hooked in the belt loop of his jeans. His hair is ruffled and messy, his vivid green eyes intense. He grins when he sees her, his face lighting up like a child’s at New Year’s, and he holds out his hand. Gladly, she takes it.
The coffee shop is a Starbucks; Alessia recognizes it from the many she’s seen in London. Maxim orders a double espresso for himself and, at her request, a hot chocolate.
“And what would you like to eat?” he asks.
“I am not hungry,” she replies.
He raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t have anything at Magda’s. I know you didn’t eat anything in my flat.”
Alessia frowns. She threw up her breakfast as well, but she isn’t about to tell him that. She shakes her head. She’s too upset by the day’s events to eat.
Maxim huffs in frustration and orders a panini.
“Actually, make that two,” he says to the barista, giving Alessia a sideways look.
“I’ll bring them over,” the barista replies, directing a coquettish smile at Maxim.
“We’d like them to go.” Maxim hands her a twenty-pound note.
“Of course.” The barista bats her eyelashes at him.
“Great, thanks.” He doesn’t return her smile but turns his attention to Alessia.
“I have money,” Alessia says.
Maxim rolls his eyes. “I’ve got this.”
They move to the end of the counter to wait for their order. Alessia wonders what she will do about money. She has a little, but she needs what she has for a deposit on a room. Though he did say that he could find her a room.
Did he mean a room in his apartment? Or somewhere else?
She doesn’t know. And she has no idea how long they will stay or where they’re going or when she’ll be able to earn more cash. She’d like to ask him, but it’s not her place to question a man.
“Hey, don’t worry about money,” Maxim says.
“I—”
“Don’t. Please.” His expression is serious.
He’s generous. Once again Alessia wonders what he does for a living. He has the big apartment, two cars. He organized the security for Magda. Is he a composer? Do composers make a lot of money in England? She doesn’t know.
“I can see your brain working from here. What is it? Ask me? I don’t bite,” Maxim says.
“I want to know what is your job.”
“What I do for a living?” Maxim smiles.
“Are you a composer?”
He laughs. “Sometimes.”
“I thought that’s what you did. I liked your pieces.”
“You did?” His smile broadens, but he looks a little embarrassed. “You speak very good English,” he says.
“Do you think so?” Alessia flushes at the unexpected compliment.
“Yes, I do.”
“My grandmother was English.”
“Oh. Well, that explains it. What was she doing in Albania?”
“She visited in the 1960s with her friend Joan, who is Magda’s mother. As children Magda and my mother sent letters and became friends. They live in different countries but have remained very good friends, though they have never met.”
“Never?”
“No. Though my mother would like to, one day.”
“Two ham-and-cheese paninis,” the barista says, interrupting them.
“Thanks.” Maxim accepts the bag. “Let’s go. You can tell me more in the car,” he says to Alessia as he picks up his coffee. “Bring your drink.” Alessia follows him out of the Starbucks, sticking close.
In the car Maxim downs his espresso, puts the empty cup in the cup holder, and, removing half of his panini from its paper wrapper, takes an enormous bite.
Its appetizing aroma fills the car.
“Hmm,” Maxim murmurs in exaggerated appreciation. As he chews, he throws Alessia a sideways look. She stares at his mouth and licks her lips.
“Want some?” he asks.
She nods.
“Here, help yourself.” He passes her the second panini, then starts the car, a smirk on his face. Alessia allows herself a cautious bite of the sandwich. A string of melted cheese sticks to her lips. She uses her fingers to scoop it into her mouth and licks her fingers. Realizing how ravenous she is, she takes another bite. It’s delicious.
“Better?” Maxim asks, his voice low.
Alessia grins. “You are cunning like the wolf.”
“Cunning is my middle name,” he says, looking pleased with himself, and Alessia can’t help but laugh.
* * *
Boy, that’s a good sound.
At the petrol station, I pull up beside the high-octane pump. “This won’t take a minute. Eat.” I grin and get out of the car. But Alessia scrambles out after me, clutching her panini, and comes to stand beside me at the pump.
“Miss me already?” I quip, trying to lighten the mood. Her lips curl in the semblance of a smile, but her eyes scour our surroundings. She’s apprehensive, and this place is making her more anxious. I fill the tank.