Perfect Match (Vice Club Nights #2)

16. Tori

Chapter sixteen

Tori

Paris, France

A nother café but a different view. The Eiffel Tower casts a geometric shadow over the road and the outdoor table I’m sitting at, waiting for Tina to join me. She went off shopping earlier, and we’ve arranged to meet back here for lunch before queueing for probably hours to go up the tower.

As I’ve found myself doing a lot lately, I pull my journal from the front zippered pocket of my backpack. It’s become my security blanket or a trash can to dump my thoughts into. Whatever it is, it’s working. The compulsion to build a catalog of memorable moments or to experience more adventures is no longer my first thought of the day. Since Florence, my head is full of Gio, and I’m not sure if that’s better or worse. I flick through the filled pages; it’s been a long time since I only scribbled a few words for a day. This journal has been the best form of therapy.

With another sip of my strong coffee, I pick up my pen and start writing.

July 27 – Paris: the city of love. Well, that’s what the plan was until Gio’s text came through, cancelling. I’ve tried not to be disappointed that he had something come up, but I am. After Florence, I’d been counting the days, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Now that I’m here and he isn’t, I’m determined not to let it ruin my time in this iconic city.

I’m also trying not to let him consume so many of my thoughts. But my head and heart seem to have formed a unity ticket to do exactly that, and no matter the distraction, he’s taken up residence in my dreams both night and day. I hate admitting this even in this journal.

Everywhere I go in Paris now has me wishing he was by my side. But I have to stop feeling this way because I’m starting to suspect that something has changed between us. I can trace it back to the night he texted to tell me he couldn’t come. Why a text and not a call? I’d never have thought he’d be one of those guys, and I’m sure he’s not. But as the days pass and there is still no call, I’m not so sure. The text messages are also less frequent, and though friendly, they’re no longer flirty.

Maybe he’s met someone and that’s why he cancelled. Or maybe for him, it was just a fling, and he’s trying to let me down slowly. This is what I’ve become—a conspiracy theorist, second-guessing every word in his messages. This isn’t like me, and you know that better than anyone else, Charli.

I haven’t spoken to you about this on our calls because it hurts. And even though it makes me want to cry, I refuse to shed one tear until I know for sure what the hell is going on with him. Am I being stupid for clinging to hope? Probably.

Today I’m feeling sad and wishing I’d ended things cleanly with Gio in Florence.

My coffee is cold against my lips, but it still tastes good, and I drain the cup as my phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call from Charli. I sit up straight in the rattan chair and stick a smile to my face before swiping to answer.

The moment her face appears, the universe rights itself but almost immediately folds back into a black hole. Something is wrong.

“What’s happened?” I blurt out, a frown creasing my brow and a knot forming in my stomach.

“I’m okay,” she tries to reassure me but instinctively knows that I’ll need more.

She talks slowly and without emotion when she tells me that Brad confronted her outside The Vice Club last night. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to fight back.

“He did what?” I shout into my phone, drawing the attention of the couple sitting at a nearby table. Lowering my voice, I continue, “Brad is an arsehole, and I hope you kicked his butt.”

“It’s okay, I did. I’m so proud of myself. I had him laid out on the sidewalk in an arm lock before he even knew what was happening.”

“Go you. But did he hurt you at all?” I’m proud of her for fighting back, but I don’t like that Brad even had the opportunity to confront her in the first place.

“No, I’m fine other than a bit shaken. Besides, Ryan came to my rescue.”

“Ryan, as in your boss?” A small smile replaces the scowl that only seconds ago blanketed my face. She’s mentioned Ryan a few times in our calls now, and from what Sadie’s been telling me in separate chats, Charli has a thing for him.

“He’s my boss’s boss, but that’s not what’s important. He picked up Brad and sent him on his way with a warning to never come by again. Then he took me up to his apartment above the club and … looked after me.”

I can see her chewing on her lip, and my smile ticks up a little further.

“I bet he did,” I tease, and her responding giggle is all I need to hear to know that Sadie was right. Charli definitely has a thing for her boss.

“Well, I’m glad Ryan is looking out for you. I hate hearing that Brad the arsehole tried to hurt you and I wasn’t there to help. We’ve always had each other’s back, but now I’m so far away …” My voice trails off.

“Just over a week, and then you’ll be here. And anyway, aren’t you meeting your sexy Italian in Paris?”

I squirm in my seat, wishing now that I’d told her Gio had canceled when it happened. Not saying anything until she asks will speak volumes.

“Not anymore; he cancelled. I’ve been wanting to tell you, but with your new work times and my travelling, it’s been hard to catch you.”

She sighs. “Are you okay? I know how much you were looking forward to seeing him again.”

I shrug, hoping it’s convincing. “I’m okay, and he might be able to come to New York sometime.”

Gio mentioned this in Florence but hasn’t since, so I say it more to reassure her than me. “And if he doesn’t, that’s okay too. This was just a fun vacation adventure; a fling that doesn’t belong in real life.”

“You can pretend that it was just a fling with everyone else, Tori, but you know I’m not buying it. He was special, and you should do what you can to make sure he doesn’t slip away. Or worse—you don’t push him away.”

Hours later, Charli’s words are still ringing in my ears.

Did I push Gio away like I’ve done in the past when guys get too close? I don’t think so. Not this time.

***

London

August 4 – My last journal entry because I’ve just boarded my flight to New York. I’m belted in, but inside, I’m cheering and whooping. Maybe I’ll have a glass of bubbles with my airline meal. I love the cute little champagne bottles you can get on planes. Not that I’ve ever ordered one, but I’ve seen other people get them.

I can hardly sit still in my seat with excitement. And I’m already imagining how good it’s going to feel being squeezed tight in one of your hugs.

But other than telling you how excited I am to be seeing you soon, how should I end this epic chapter in my life? With something like, this adventure was full of exciting thrills, delicious meals, unexpected experiences, and new friendships that I will cherish forever. Or more simply, it’s been a wild ride.

Charli, thank you for gifting me this journal.

Today I’m just happy.

Around nine hours later, I’m walking through the doors at JFK Airport and running toward my sister. I’m tired, but none of that matters because all I need is to hug her. Tears stream down our faces.

“I missed you,” I choke out.

Charli grins back at me. “I missed you more.”