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“How much did you send her?” Eloise asked Konstantin, looking up from her phone.

“A year’s worth.”

“Because it’s Christmas?”

“Because you’re not going back there. Even before I saw the building, I knew by the rent that those are squalid living conditions. Tell her to use it to find a better address along with a new roommate.”

If they weren’t already taxiing along the runway, Eloise might have staged more of a rebellion. As it was, she could only relay exactly what he had said, mostly because she didn’t know how she would get back to New York, let alone pay rent again when she did.

She didn’t know what would happen when she arrived in Nice. If it were up to her mother, Eloise would be invited to move back into the house, but Lilja had bought it with Antoine. He wasn’t likely to allow Eloise to stay overnight, let alone through Christmas.

She glanced at Konstantin, so effortlessly sophisticated and compelling. He’d shaved and changed into a black turtleneck with a casual fawn-colored jacket. His dark brown trousers were tailored to graze perfectly across his polished ankle boots.

He looked up from his phone and caught her staring at him.

“Where...um...?” She cleared her throat. “Last night you said you were leaving town today. Where were you supposed to go?”

“The Maldives.”

“Oh? Do you have property there?”

“No.”

“Just vacation, then?”

“Yes.”

“With...um...” She adjusted her blind as though there were something to see outside the window beyond a wall of white clouds.

“Yes,” he said before she finished asking if he’d been planning to take Gemma.

Maybe it was better that he wasn’t a talkative person.

“Have you told your mother that we’re coming?” he asked.

“Not yet.” She picked up her phone again.

“Don’t mention me. I’d like the element of surprise.”

She was still uneasy about all of this, worried about what he might say or do when he saw her mother again. She chewed her lip as she considered what to say, then spoke as she typed out her text.

“I’m arriving in Nice late tonight.” She tried to go down a line and accidentally hit Send. “Argh, this phone. Let me know... Tsk... Give me a sec.”

While she cleared the garbled letters, her mother’s response came through.

“Where are you staying? With friends or at a hotel?” she read aloud. “That has to be Antoine replying.”

“He takes her phone?”

“I think he must. And I think he deletes anything he doesn’t want her to see. When I talk to her, she always asks when I’m coming to visit. Then one time I said why don’t you come see me in New York and suddenly Antoine wanted to take her to Australia.” She tried to keep the pain of rejection off her face, but Konstantin had to see it.

“Just say both,” he instructed.

That she was staying with a friend at a hotel? She didn’t want to be even more indebted to him, but had no choice. She stifled her protest and texted.

Both. Let me know when it would be convenient to drop in.

“I’m invited to lunch tomorrow,” she conveyed a moment later, mollified as her mother’s invitation came through.