Silver Tears(53)

“I thought…” Jaime lowered his voice and looked her in the eye. “If you didn’t have any plans this evening, I might show you some of my favorite hideaways. I know all the best restaurants and the top chefs are my personal friends. And I’ve got a little apartment here in the city. I work such long days that sometimes it’s too late to go home to my beautiful villa in the mountains. Perhaps we can round off the evening there with coffee and…?”

He waved at the server and asked for the bill.

Faye groaned loudly in her head. None of them were ever even original. Coffee and…in their little shagpad.

“That would be really wonderful,” she said. “But I’ve got my dearest friend with me for the weekend, and her daughter too. She’s five years old and, while she might be a bit lively, she’s super cute. Of course I can’t leave them at the hotel on their own, so maybe…?”

Faye smiled sweetly when she saw the panic spreading on Jaime’s face.

“Argh, I just remembered that I promised my wife I’d be home for dinner this evening. I’m so very sorry. But I’d be happy to recommend some restaurants to you. Child-friendly ones…”

“Oh, what a pity, but I’d be most grateful for those recommendations. So sweet of you.”

Jaime hastily placed cash on the table, stood up, and nodded. He proffered his hand.

“Be in touch next week.”

“Yes,” said Faye, shaking his hand.

She watched him for a long time as he headed toward his office.

Laughing softly, she checked the time, picked up her bag, and strolled back toward the hotel. The shop she had found on Google while she was still in Sweden was on the way to the hotel. David was going to get another surprise.



* * *



—



David was in the middle of a business call when she arrived back in the room with two large bags in her hands. His face lit up. He gestured to her that he would be finished in five minutes and she blew him a kiss in reply. That meant she had time to prepare the surprise.

Outside on the big terrace, she whistled as she extracted everything she had bought. In front of her, Madrid’s rooftops spread out into the distance, and she pushed away all her worries and all her thoughts about anything other than being here in a city she loved with a man she loved. She, the woman who had thought she’d never again trust a man. David seemed to be wrapping up his call, and Faye hurried to finish. When he emerged onto the terrace, she turned toward him and gestured at the table with her hands.

“Tadaaa!”

“What on earth is all this?” David said, wide-eyed.

“Since I took you away from Midsummer, I thought I’d bring Midsummer to you. I googled before we arrived and found a shop nearby that sells Swedish stuff. So here’s some herring, kn?ckebr?d, V?sterbotten cheese, schnapps, sour cream, chives…well, everything you can think of. The only thing I wasn’t able to arrange was a maypole, but I suppose we’ll have to make do. And look! I’ve made wreaths!”

She grinned and produced two wreaths that she had quickly assembled with the help of a florist. She placed one on her head and one on David’s. He looked kooky but kind of sexy—an irresistible combination. He put his arms around her and kissed her.

“You crazy thing. But as per tradition, I propose we start by dancing around the maypole.”

“What are we waiting for?” said Faye, dragging him toward the bed and humming the melody to “Sm? grodorna.”





David had suggested that they go to the VIP lounge, but Faye had insisted on settling down in a small café close to the Real Madrid store so that they could people-watch other travelers.

Faye loved airports. Barajas in Madrid was no exception. People from all corners of the globe passed by in a steady stream. Every now and then, she caught a word in a language she didn’t recognize. Parents telling off their kids, carrying them, encouraging them, shouting at them. There was an air of expectation. People were going to see their loved ones again or finally take a couple of days’ vacation after months of toil.

Perhaps her love of airports was because she hadn’t flown until she had been in her twenties.

Yvonne Ingvarsson’s number flashed on her display and Faye hastily rejected the call.

When Faye had spoken to Kerstin that morning, she had said that Yvonne had stopped by again—on Midsummer’s Eve, of all days. Faye sighed. She had reached the end of her tether worrying about the policewoman’s investigations, which seemed to be taking place entirely on her own initiative. She had no idea how Yvonne had figured out her past identity, but no one else from the police had contacted her about anything whatsoever to do with Julienne since Jack’s trial. Yvonne clearly hadn’t shared what she’d discovered with any of her colleagues. She was just a petty woman trying to take down someone she was jealous of, and Faye couldn’t worry about her anymore.



As soon as she got home, Faye was going to deal with her. For good. She and David were going to move in together, Jack and G?sta would be apprehended before long—she was sure of it—and she was going to get Henrik’s mucky paws off Revenge somehow.

David was working with intense concentration at his laptop. Occasionally, he took business calls on his phone—always pacing back and forth and making huge gestures as he talked. She loved to see him work. Seeing his focus and his obvious passion for what he did. Sometimes he would pose a quick-fire question without giving any context. He’d ask what she thought about the business potential of using DNA technology in health. Or what impact she thought Brexit would have on the euro. Sometimes she was able to answer, sometimes not. He impressed her on a daily basis with his knowledge, his expertise, his dedication. He was well grounded in a way that Jack never had been.