The Last Time I Saw Paris by Elizabeth Adler Page A

minutes in this heat, then I’ll be on my way.”
    She sank into the chaise, staring out over the ocean, wishing he would stay longer. “How was Britt last night?”
    â€œBritt was . . . I guess she was just Britt.” He was leaning back against the deck rail, arms folded over his chest. “I’ve forgotten what I told you about her.”
    â€œThat she was young and beautiful and expensive, and maybe in search of a richer guy.”
    He lifted the beer bottle in acknowledgment. “That’s Britt in a nutshell.” His eyes linked with hers. “And what did you do last night?”
    â€œI put on my robe, ate a banana sandwich on white bread, and read about somebody else’s life,” she said honestly.
    â€œIt was probably more fun than my evening.” He put down the empty bottle and started gathering his equipment. “I’d better get going, Ms. Lewis. Tomorrow at the same time okay with you?”
    â€œOh, sure. Any time you want. The gate is alwaysopen if I’m not here.” She was already promising herself that she would not be there when he came by tomorrow. Definitely not. Nor the next day.
    Silence settled over her as she sat on the half-torn-up deck. Twilight turned to darkness. There were no stars tonight. Stroking Dex’s head absently, she thought about Bill and what she was going to do. Perhaps she was wrong and Bill was really going to India alone. His work had always come first, and after all, it was lives he was helping to save.
Children’s
lives. Wasn’t it she who was the selfish one, wanting him to come to France with her?
    But her stomach churned as she imagined Bill with Melissa. She felt locked out, abandoned, a part of his past. She could bear it no longer. She had to know the truth.
    Grabbing the phone, she dialed the hospital and asked for the pediatric department. The nurse on duty told her that Dr. Melissa Kenney was in China. Yes, she had been due back next week, but now there had been a delay. She was returning via India and would not be back for several weeks.
    Lara dropped the phone and huddled into the sofa, staring at the empty fire grate without seeing it. Pain was a lead weight on her heart, dragging her into an abyss. Her life was being stolen from her and there was nothing she could do about it.
    She had no sense of time passing, no idea of how long she had been sitting there until she became aware of Dex whining and realized that she was freezing. Her watch said eight-thirty. She let the dog out and stared wearily around the empty house. It was so goddamn quiet. So lonely. Unable to bear the silence any longer, she ran upstairs, flung on a sweater and skirt,jammed her feet into flat leather sandals, grabbed the car keys, and headed for the door.
    She remembered she had not even looked in a mirror, swung around, raced back upstairs again, dragged a brush through her hair and applied lipstick carefully. Melissa Kenney might have stolen her husband, but she was darned if she was going to let the bitch steal her pride too. She ran to the door, then back again to the dressing table for a spritz of Ceylon, a gift from Delia and now her favorite perfume.
    She drove into Carmel and walked aimlessly around with Dex happily sniffing on his leash, until some time later she found herself outside a small bar. Tying the dog to a convenient ficus tree, she walked in and took a seat. She had never been into a bar alone before, and, self-conscious, she stared straight ahead, not looking at the other customers.
    â€œWhat can I get ya, ma’am?”
    The bartender had spiky red hair and she thought he looked all of twenty-two years old. She wondered wearily if there was a youth conspiracy and she was the only one born in the wrong era. Daringly, she ordered tequila on the rocks.
    She took a big gulp, coughing as the tequila hit her throat like fire. At least this time she had gotten up the nerve to order it.
    She caught the