Drawn to Life (11 page)

Chapter 21

Samuel—Come Back

Budapest, June 2012

Mia had been gone for longer than fifteen minutes, and I began to worry, even though she still had her backpack here. She wouldn’t just split without her stuff. Even with that self-reassurance, my anxiety grew, and I tapped my right foot while looking up and down the platform. She was nowhere to be seen.

I had to do something. I grabbed both our backpacks and headed toward the restrooms. On my way, I continued to scan the station’s main hall but saw no sign of her.

I picked up my pace and reached the women’s restroom. I tore open the door. “Mia?” I called. No answer. I ran back to the platform to see whether she’d returned to the bench while I was gone. No Mia.

I spun around and spotted another women’s restroom. I ran to it as quick as I could, and this time I found her, lying on the floor. I tossed our luggage and my guitar into the corner and kneeled beside her. She looked terrible—ashen and lifeless. But her chest was moving, and I could feel her pulse racing. What had happened?

I lifted her up a bit. I didn’t want to leave her on the cold, dirty tiles. She fought me, so I let go of her once she was in a sitting position. I gently checked her pulse again. It had slowed, I thought.

“Mia, are you with me?” I asked her quietly when I noticed rapid movement under her eyelids. She opened her eyes and looked at me, her expression confused and scared. She immediately pulled away.

I lifted both arms, palms out, surrender-style, and said, “Everything is OK, Mia. I was looking for you.” I moved closer, but she waved a hand, clearly a gesture telling me to stay away. “All right, I won’t come closer. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

She shook her head. She looked so frightened.

I reached to my backpack in the corner, pulled out a bottle of water, and handed it to her. “Here, drink, please.” She did, voraciously, as if she hadn’t had a drop in days. Shuddering, she returned the half-empty container to me.

“Thank you,” she whispered, staring at her feet.

“Look at me, just briefly, please. I want to see how you’re doing.” Reluctantly, she raised her head, and I dove into the emerald sea of her eyes. I saw tears and fear there.

“What happened?” I repeated.

“I . . . I must not have been feeling well. No breakfast, forgot to eat.”

I could tell by the tension in her body and jaw that she wasn’t telling the truth, but I didn’t want her defenses rising any more than they already were by pressing further. So I just nodded and let it go for the time being.

“Well, the most important thing is that I found you.” I stood and grabbed our luggage. “Let’s go. We have a train to catch.” I extended my hand to help her up, but she hid hers behind her back and smiled at me. She didn’t do false smiles very well, I’d noticed.

She heaved herself to her feet. Her legs were trembling, and I wanted to steady her, but she grabbed the sink before I could. I gave her a worried glance. She didn’t look at me. Instead, she stared at the ground.

“It’s OK,” she managed to say and reached out her hand. “Give me my backpack.” I did as she asked. “Thank you.” She took a deep breath and finally looked me in the eye. Her expression was much calmer now. “Thank you for coming to find me.”

“Of course.”

We walked to the platform in silence. I decided that from now on, I would always watch over her. It was clear she wasn’t doing well, although she was apparently trying to convince me and the rest of the world otherwise. Her body language indicated that. And she was a terrible liar.

“Hold on a second. I’ll get us new coffees,” Mia said. We walked over to the coffee bar, and she searched her pockets for some cash.

“Don’t worry about it.” I pulled out some bills. “It’s only coffee.”

I received another whispered “Thank you.”

We arrived just as the train was approaching the platform. Mia boarded first and chose a window seat. I waited, watching her settle in. Then I asked, “Do you mind if I sit with you?” She eyed me, then bit her lower lip. Man, she looked sexy.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She nodded to the seat across from her.

That didn’t sound too inviting.

Chapter 22

Mia—Together

En route to Rome, June 2012

Exhausted, I threw myself onto my seat. I took off my shoes and plugged my earbuds in. At that moment, I couldn’t care less that he was sitting directly across from me. I was still in shock after the incident in the restroom. I’d suffered similar ones, the last earlier in the year. I hadn’t known until I’d sorted things out with my therapist that they were triggered by touching the scar on my belly. That’s why nobody was allowed to come near the incision. Sometimes, though, like in the restroom, I couldn’t stop it.

Maybe my phobia had rescued me from a worse assault. The creep had vanished when my knees gave in and I hit the floor. My head still throbbed, and I could feel a lump growing. The last thing I’d seen before shock paralyzed me was the guy’s legs as he hurried out the door. Then everything had gone dark.

Samuel Winter, of all people, had found me. I really had to reconsider my opinion about him. He was uberfriendly. If that’d been all he was, that would be one thing. But he was also so attractive. More and more, I caught myself peeking at him in order to memorize every feature on his gorgeous face.

When I’d realized it was him kneeling next to me on the restroom floor, I’d had to put more distance between us. But not before inhaling his scent. It reminded me of fresh forest air. Thinking about it, in spite of myself, I felt the corners of my lips turn up.

“What are you smiling about?” His deep voice sounded through the music, startling me. I flinched and almost fell off my seat. Angrily, I paused my iPhone and looked at him.

“Um . . . well, sorry.” He grinned.

I enjoyed his company. I didn’t know why, but I could talk with him without fear of a panic attack.

“Damn it. Don’t do that,” I said in a voice halfway between yelling and whispering.

“Won’t happen again,” he said, trying not to laugh.

I straightened my back and crossed my feet. “That’s what you said last time.”

He smirked. “So you really won’t tell me what made you smile?” He leaned forward and pointed at my mouth. “It looked good on you.”

I inwardly cursed my heated cheeks. “Well, I was just thinking about something. Not really important,” I snapped. I motioned to my earbuds to signal I wasn’t interested in further chitchat. He nodded, leaned back, and took out his own earbuds.

Samuel Winter didn’t seem at all like I’d imagined him.

On the way to Vienna, we each remained lost in our own thoughts. Mine involved him. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to continue to Rome if it meant traveling with him. I kept glancing across the space between us. Our eyes met several times, each one making me smile. Eventually, I nodded off.

Shortly before the train arrived in Vienna, I heard his voice. “Hey, sweetie.” I opened my eyes and looked directly into his. He squatted in front of me. “I promised I wouldn’t scare you again,” he whispered. Enchanted, I stared into his face, his looks continuing to fascinate me much more than I thought was wise.

“I wasn’t sure you’d heard the announcement. We’ll be arriving shortly.”

I wrapped the earbud cable around the iPhone and stowed it in the side pocket of my backpack.

“Thanks. No, I didn’t hear it.” I put on my shoes and zipped up my bag. The train rolled slowly into the station. Samuel stood and held out his hand. I didn’t want to give him any more reasons to think I was crazy, so this time I ignored the impulse to hide my hand behind my back. But I was still afraid he might touch me. He was far too close. I simply said, “Thanks, I’ll be OK.”

“All right. But let me carry your pack.” He held his hand out, waiting for me to give it to him.

“No worries. I can carry my own stuff. Plus, you have your guitar.”

The train jolted to a halt, and I started toward the exit.

“Hey, Mia, wait up!” he called as I jumped down the steps. At the sound of his voice, I stopped short, stood stiffly, and waited until he caught up. “We’re headed the same way. Let’s go together.”

There it was. I had been pondering how to handle this since we’d left Budapest. I wanted to be alone. Rediscover myself without anybody else around. Begin to like myself again. Do the things I’d once loved or had always wanted to try. I wavered, hesitating mostly because I liked his company. Maybe I didn’t need to be alone. He wasn’t a part of my past anyway.

He scratched his head. “OK, it was just a thought. Since we have the same destination and everything, I thought it might be fun.”

Before thinking any more about it—I’d certainly done more than my share of thinking over the past year—I said, “Sure. Why not?” I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake. His endless attempts to strike up a conversation had already gotten on my nerves.

“Well then, let’s go. We have half an hour to get to Westbahnhof to catch the train to Rome.”

Maybe it was naive of me to allow him access into my world. But what was there to lose, anyway?

Chapter 23

Samuel—I Quit

En route to Rome, June 2012

“Samuel . . .”

It was the first time I’d heard her say my name. I liked how she said it.

“Slow down, please.” She was out of breath.

I stopped and waited for her. “Sorry, just a habit. Here, give me your backpack.” I held out my hand.

She shook her head.

“Please?”

She rolled her eyes, then handed it to me. “Fine, if it makes you feel better.”

“Hell, yes, it does.” I lifted the heavy thing and grinned. “Let’s go. Rome is waiting.”

People were already boarding the train when we arrived at the platform at Westbahnhof. As soon as we’d stepped on, the train departed.

“Without you, I would have missed it.” Mia plopped down on a seat. “I don’t know Vienna at all. It would have taken me an hour to get here.”

“Home advantage.” I put down our luggage. Mia pulled her iPhone from her bag, but before she could plug up her ears again, I asked, “Why are you traveling by yourself?”

Again, she bit her lower lip. And again, man, it looked sexy. She shrugged and held my gaze with her sparkling eyes. Then she leaned back and, with her arms crossed over her chest, asked, “Why are you not in your office,
Samuel Winter
?”

I sat back myself and ran my fingers through my hair. “You know who I am?”

She nodded slowly.

“What exactly do you know?” I tried to hide my emotions. I didn’t want to be reminded of my father or his company.

“More than I’d like.”

“Is that the reason you’ve been avoiding me?” I was sick and tired of my dad’s damned architecture firm. It caused me only headaches and haunted me everywhere I went, even here, when all I wanted was to escape my past.

“Partly,” she answered.

“How did you find out?” I hadn’t even been aware of my father’s wrongdoings. Maybe I really had hidden from the truth.

“I used to work for a newspaper. I don’t understand how you could lend your face to something like that. You’re considered the hotshot of the real estate scene.” She shook her head. “I really don’t get it.” Then she added more amicably, “Especially now that I’ve come to know you a little bit. It doesn’t make sense.”

I leaned forward and looked directly into her eyes. “I had no idea what was going on,” I said warily. She frowned. “My father didn’t involve me in the business end. I wasn’t a project manager. I usually only sat at my desk and designed for him.”

“That’s hard to believe,” she snapped.

“It’s the truth,” I replied. “I left the firm. I’m sure he’s struggling to come up with an explanation as to why his famous
hotshot
son has gone cold.”

She still didn’t seem convinced. “You’re serious?”

“Absolutely serious. I quit. My father had just assigned me my first project to spearhead. When I read through the documents, I discovered his dirty secret. Well, apparently it’s not even that much of a secret. Everybody but me seems to have known.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “We had a bad falling out. I’ll never go back there.”

“Not everybody knows,” Mia said quietly. “We—me and the newspaper staff—found out only by accident. And then your father discovered we knew. We couldn’t go public. He would have sued us to death.”

“What a prick,” I spat.

“I’m glad you finally got it. I would’ve been disappointed . . . you know, if you were a part of all that.” Mia peeked at me. She smiled and bit her lower lip. She had to stop doing that. Didn’t she realize she was torturing me?

“So why Eurail?” she said, interrupting my thoughts. “Why not a private jet, maybe?” I loved the sound of her giggle.

“There is no private jet.” I laughed, then sighed and added, “I had to get away from home. And not just because of what happened professionally.”

She nodded. Her eyes displayed a sadness that conveyed she understood exactly what I meant.

Chapter 24

Samuel—Connected Through Music

En route to Rome, June 2012

Mia yawned and covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m really sorry. I’d love to go on talking, especially now that you’ve told me everything.” I was glad we’d had a frank talk and that my dad’s firm’s reputation wasn’t standing between us anymore. Mia smiled at me. A different smile, a real one. A smile that didn’t seek to chase me away.

She seemed barely able to keep her eyes open. “I’m so tired. I visited an old friend last night, and we didn’t get to bed till really late.”

“Go on and sleep. We have a long way until Rome.” She wouldn’t slip away again. She was actually speaking to me, voluntarily. And I wanted to hear more.

Performing her usual routine, she grabbed her iPhone, put in her earbuds, leaned back, and closed her eyes. We had hours to go before we arrived in Italy’s capital. Hours I would spend in Mia’s company—or, at least, hours I would sit next to her and watch her.

She opened her eyes. Confused, she inspected her phone, then pushed several buttons.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She stuffed the device back into her bag and grumbled, “Battery’s dead.”

I laughed, but she frowned. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“I’m not laughing at you.” I raised my hands, as if fending her off. “I would offer you mine, but my battery is dead, too.” She grinned. “I told you I wasn’t laughing at you.” I winked at her.

“Hmm, bummer.”

“No big deal,” I said. “You can charge it in a few hours.” She nodded and began to bite her nails, then stopped when she realized I was watching and instead picked at a cuticle. Something was bugging her.

“Is it important for you to listen to music?” I asked.

“Actually, yeah.”

“Why?”

Mia just stared at me. She opened her mouth as if she intended to speak, then closed it and chewed her lower lip again. I was instantly charmed.

“OK, no answer. I get it. But if it’s that serious, I could play something for you.”

Her eyes grew wide, and she stopped biting her lip. “Really?”

I shrugged. “Why not? We need to pass the time somehow.” A smile broke across her face, and then she laughed. I liked how her emerald eyes sparkled when she was happy like this. Our gazes caught and held. Her aroma wafted toward me . . . a subtle whiff of vanilla . . .

Softly, I asked, “Do you play an instrument?”

“I used to,” she answered quietly.

“Not anymore?”

“I haven’t played in over a year.” She looked down at her fidgety fingers.

“Why? What did you play?”

She massaged her neck with her right hand. “I . . . um . . .” She drew air in and out a few times, then finally said, “I just didn’t have time anymore.”

Her behavior was puzzling. A simple question about the instrument she played had eclipsed her happiness in an instant.

The artificial smile was back. Before I could dig deeper, she said, “So, then, show me what you can do.”

“Any requests?”

“No. Play whatever you like. Whatever you play best. Anything.” She nestled into her seat, closed her eyes, then opened them again. “Thank you,” she said, lips curving again.

“My pleasure.”

I unpacked my guitar, quickly tuned it, then played random melodies, anything that popped into my head.

I had been playing for an hour and thought she was asleep. Her breathing was even, and she was still. I’d just gotten into “Staring at the Sky” when I noticed she was singing along under her breath. I was already stirred by the throaty way she talked, but hearing her sing gave me goose bumps. Her voice was magnificent.

I chimed in on the second strophe. Immediately, she stopped. Her eyes flew open, and she covered her mouth, obviously embarrassed. I continued to play the melody and said, “I didn’t expect you to know this song.”

She didn’t say a word. Her face was ashen.

“Breathe, sweetie. Your voice is great. I love it.”

Her hands dropped to her lap. I put the guitar aside and motioned for her to continue her relaxation technique. She struggled for a moment. Then she looked into my eyes and calmed down.

“You all right now?” I was worried.

“Y-yes, OK,” she stammered. “I-I didn’t realize I was singing along.”

“But you should sing along! You have a great voice.” She blushed. “Come on, let’s do it some more.”

“No, really, Samuel, I shouldn’t.” She was being evasive again.

“Oh please, Mia, just this one song. Then I’ll stop bugging you.” I hoped my smile would convince her, but she just shook her head. I reached to take one of her hands, but she tucked them behind her. Why did she do that all the time?

“Come on, Mia. One song. You’ll like it. I know it.”

She thought for a moment, then threw me a timid glance.

“OK, but just this one.”