Gramercy Nights (The Argo Press Trilogy Book 1) (30 page)

I laugh, taking Sebastian’s hand in mine and thread my fingers through his. “I was a barista when we met.” I shrug. “You offered me money for sex. And I said yes. It’s not exactly the picture book romance you tell people about over dinner.” I try to keep my voice as casual as possible, not wanting to let him know just how much the circumstances of our meeting hurt.

If I were Malcolm, I would have looked at me and seen the same thing he saw.

“You’re not upset?”

I shake my head. “I can’t believe I got to have dinner with Malcolm Renault. He’s a bit of an ass, though, isn’t he?”

Sebastian laughs, pulling me next to him. “Yes, he definitely is.”

“You really grew up together?”

Sebastian groans. “Yes. Please let’s not talk about it. Too many memories, and sadly, not enough good ones.”

I watch Sebastian in the darkness. “Okay,” I whisper, brushing his cheek with my fingertips. He closes his eyes and breaths in deeply.

It isn’t until we’re nearly at the loft that Sebastian breaks the silence. “I have to go to Germany next week.”

My heart plummets. I’m not ready for this to end. “Oh, how long will you be gone?”

“A week. It’s the Frankfurt Book Festival.”

I’ve obviously heard of the Frankfurt Book Festival. It’s only the biggest international book festival. It’s no surprise that Sebastian would be going.

“Come with me?”

I blink in surprise. “Seriously?”

Sebastian laughs. “I’ll have to work, but a week seems like a very long time to be apart.”

Sebastian’s words wrap around me like a warm blanket.

Chapter Thirty-One

Our flight leaves John F. Kennedy Airport at a little after eight p.m. and I’m so excited I’m practically bouncing up and down as we wait to go through security. Sebastian watches me, clearly amused. I don’t think he wants to crush my excitement but I know this isn’t a big deal for him. After all, he grew up in Europe, whereas I can count the number of times I’ve travelled across the Atlantic on my fingers. The fair runs from Wednesday to Sunday, but Sebastian suggested we arrive early so we’d have time to adjust to jetlag and maybe do some sightseeing. Megan’s flying over separately and meeting us there on Tuesday, but until then, it’s just the two of us, in a hotel room, in a foreign city.

To say I’m ecstatic doesn’t even begin to cover it.

The stewardess offers us champagne before the flight even takes off, and I curl up in the soft blanket provided in first class. Sebastian pulls out his computer the second we’re off the ground, working through the night, or at least that’s how it seems because any time I wake up, he’s there, next to me, his face glowing in the light of his computer screen.

Sebastian peers over me as the flight attendant announces our descent into Frankfurt Airport.

“We’re almost there.”

I nod, too groggy to speak but manage to find the button next to me to bring my seat up fully. Sebastian looks annoyingly refreshed for someone who’s been awake for most of the night. Definitely not fair. I go to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. I’m a mess, but there’s not much I can do about it. I sigh and return to my seat as the flight attendant makes a final pass down the aisle, reminding us to fasten our seatbelts. I’ve never liked flying and as if sensing my apprehension, Sebastian takes my hand, rubbing his thumb across my knuckles, and I press my nose against the cold glass and watch as the ground beneath us comes into breathtaking focus.

Before long, we’re sitting in the backseat of a taxi, our bags tucked into the trunk and Sebastian is rattling off something to our driver in German.

“How many languages do you speak?” I ask, laughing.

Sebastian shrugs. “A few.”

“What’s a few?”

The fact that Sebastian has to think about it before responding is all the answer I need. “English, obviously. Spanish. French. Catalan at a grade school level. Some German. I can order in restaurants and follow extremely basic conversations about the weather, but that’s about it.”

“Bullshit,” I say, laughing. I may not understand a word of German, but I could tell he was saying more to the driver than just the address of our hotel. I stare out the window, trying not to miss a thing while Sebastian idly strokes my thigh with his thumb.

When our taxi stops beneath the scalloped steel and glass marquee of the Steigenberger Frankfurter Hof, two men in top hats and black uniforms flank the door and the car has barely come to a stop when they are opening the doors for us and helping us out.

“This is where we’re staying?” I stare around me at the opulent hotel lobby.

“Where else would we stay?”

I roll my eyes. “The last time I was in Europe, I stayed at a hostel.”

“I think you’ll find this a tad bit more comfortable.”

“You don’t say.”

Behind the front desk are multiple clocks set to different time zones, each with a bronze plaque affixed to the wall beneath announcing the city. Sebastian doesn’t let go of my hand the entire time he’s talking to the receptionist. Finally, we’re handed a key and make our way to the bank of elevators.

When he unlocks the door to our room, holding it open for me, I do a double take. It’s not just a room. It’s a suite. I step inside, dropping my tote to the floor, the plush carpeting swallowing the sound of my steps. Cream-colored walls give the room a warm, inviting appearance. A couch and several chairs face a fireplace flanked with built-in bookshelves while double doors open onto the peach-colored bedroom.

I laugh. “This is ridiculous.” I turn to find Sebastian watching me as he leans against the door, clearly entertained. I kick off my shoes, feeling the soft carpet between my toes.

“I’m going to take a quick shower,” he says before kissing my forehead and pressing a twenty euro note into my hand. “Have them put our bags in the bedroom.”

I’m yawning, stretched out on the bed, all our bags put away, when Sebastian emerges from the bathroom in nothing but a towel strung low around his hips. I prop myself up, all thoughts of sleep and jetlag gone at the sight of his glistening body. With a knowing smile, Sebastian drops his towel to the floor and kicks it aside. I watch as his cock rises.

“Would you like to do some sightseeing today? The Städel Museum is supposed to be very educational.”

I shake my head, biting into my lip.

“What about the Römer. No trip to Frankfurt is complete without visiting the Römer.” He’s treading slowly across the room, closing the distance between us as I shake my head again. He raises one eyebrow playfully. “No? Then what exactly do you have in mind?”

“You. I want you.”

Sebastian lets out a hardy laugh, making his tight abs constrict. “That can probably be arranged.”

“You know,” I say, “I’ve never had sex in a hotel before.”

Sebastian’s eyebrow shoots up. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Well that, my dear, is a terrible thing. Let’s see what we can do to remedy the situation.”

We spend the entire day in bed. At some point, Sebastian rolls off me long enough to call room service and it isn’t until the food arrives at our door, steaming under the metal lids, that I realize how ravenous I am. Sebastian should probably be preparing for all the meetings he’ll have once the fair starts on Wednesday, but I’m glad he’s taken the day off to spend with me, even if we don’t get farther than the bed.

I wake up to the sound of the shower running, a little disappointed to find that it’s morning already. Today Sebastian will have to work, so I tiptoe across the room and join him in the shower, trying to prolong our little paradise just a bit. Sebastian doesn’t seem to object. When he makes me come with the showerhead pressed tight between my thighs, I scream, wishing this moment could last forever.

Once we’re both dressed like civilized humans for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours, Sebastian calls down, ordering coffee up to the room. When he suggests I explore the city, I find myself shaking my head. Instead, I take out
Tomorrow, Today
, spreading out on the bed to do some translating.

I’m biting my lip, trying to figure out what’s missing in the tone of my translation. The narrator of
Tomorrow, Today
is so sinister but at the same time unmistakably alluring, and it’s that duality that makes the book so haunting and unforgettable. Think Humbert Humbert. The unreliable narrator so compelling you can’t help but be drawn in even as you know he’s manipulating you.

“How’s it going?”

I jump slightly, not having heard Sebastian enter the room and let out an exasperated groan.

“Something’s off and I can’t figure out how to fix it and it’s driving me insane.” The bed sags under his added weight.

“Would you like me to have a look? I’ve been told I have a knack for fixing these sorts of problems.”

I make a face. “I’m sure you do. And no, it’s not ready.”

He shrugs but I can tell he’s curious. “Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong and maybe we can talk it out.”

I give him a dubious look. I’m used to working alone. Even working with Marc, I never sent him questions until I was certain there was nothing more I could do on my own. But Sebastian has a point. This is what he does for a living. “It’s the narrator’s tone. I can’t seem to get it right.”

He nods, slipping behind me. “Okay. So what does it sound like? To you.” He stretches out his legs on either side of me, straddling me so that I’m leaning against his chest.

“You can tell from the moment the book starts that something’s not right with him. It’s just a feeling, though. He doesn’t say or do anything overtly creepy, but somehow, you know. Like there’s so much more under the surface.” Sebastian begins kneading my tense shoulders, willing me to give in and relax, but the way he says ‘go on’ makes it clear he’s still paying attention.

“At the same time, and this is the part I can’t figure out, even though he’s clearly dangerous, he’s so charismatic, you’re drawn to him, knowing it’s a bad idea. Like you want to believe him, even though you
know
you shouldn’t.”

“Hmm.”

“Anyway, I think I’ve got the sinister bit down, more or less, but that’s only one part of it and the book doesn’t work without both.”

“You realize this is just a sample, right?”

“Yeah, but if I’m going to do it, I’m not going to just half-ass it.”

“How far along are you?”

“I’ve done the first twenty-five pages, but it’s really rough.”

He kisses my neck softly, his lips just barely brushing my sensitive skin. “Maybe it’s time to put the book away. You know how you want it to sound. Just focus on the English.”

I groan, making Sebastian laugh. He makes it sound so damn easy. And I hate knowing that he’s right. It’s so hard putting away the source text, not consulting it constantly to make sure you haven’t deviated too much from the original, but it’s a necessary step. For the writing to stand alone in a new language, it can’t just be a mirror image of the original. It needs to breathe in English. It needs to be alive.

“You know it’s really annoying that you’re right?”

Sebastian laughs. “I think we’ve both had enough work for the morning,” Sebastian whispers into my ear as he takes the book from my hand and tosses it across the bed. “We deserve a break.”

The weekend passes in a blur of work and sex and food ordered up to the room and I can’t believe that it’s already Tuesday morning and Megan is arriving, which means our time alone together has come to an end. I’m a little nervous about seeing Megan, given the reason I’m here, but Sebastian tells me not to worry.

“I told her about us. It’s fine.”

“What exactly did you tell her?”

“That I couldn’t go a whole week without fucking my girlfriend, so I dragged her along.”

I throw a pillow at Sebastian’s head but he catches it, laughing. “I’m serious.”

“I told her that we’re dating and that I brought you with me.”

“This isn’t going to be too awkward?”

“Danielle, the only way this is going to be awkward is if you make it awkward. Relax. I thought you liked Megan?”

I make a face. “I do like Megan, and I think she likes me, but that was before she knew I was sleeping with her boss.”

Sebastian pulls me onto his lap and wraps his arms around me. “Why don’t you have coffee with us when she gets here? I promise, it’s going to be fine.”

I shake my head. “Nope. I think now is a good time for me to get in some of that sightseeing.”

I spot Megan in the lobby as I’m heading out and she smiles at me warmly, saying she hopes to see me later, and I let out a sigh of relief. There was nothing reserved about her greeting. She seemed genuinely happy to see me.

Maybe Sebastian was right. Maybe I’m the only one who is going to make this awkward.

I spend the day wandering Frankfurt. I’m wearing jeans and a sweater, a scarf wrapped several times around my neck, thankful that I thought to bring boots. When we left New York, you could just feel that first hint of fall in the air, that subtle chill and the change of smell, but here, fall is definitely in full swing. It’s the perfect weather for aimless wandering. I walk along the Main River, daydreaming. Being here, surrounded by history, I can’t help but wish I could move to Europe. Even if it’s only for a few months. Frankfurt is nothing like Barcelona, the language unlike anything I know, and yet, I can feel that familiar draw. The pull of the unknown. I don’t know when I’ll be able to spend time in Europe again, if I’ll ever be able to live out that lifelong dream of moving back to Spain, but being here brings it back.