You're Not the One (9781101558959) (54 page)

“Are you OK?” I ask, turning back to her with concern.

“Yeah, fine.” She nods, obviously not fine at all. “I knew I'd see him tonight. I've been preparing myself.”

I look at her fiddling agitatedly with her bracelets. She looks totally unprepared.

“Why don't you go over and say hi?” I suggest.

She shakes her head. “I don't think he wants to talk to me,” she says sadly. “It's been three months and I haven't heard from him once.”

“And did you want to?” I ask quietly.

Her eyes glisten. “I've been such a total idiot, Lucy. You were right. I've missed him like crazy, but now I think it's too late.”

She looks miserable and I squeeze her hand supportively. “You don't know that.”

She heaves a sigh and her eyes meet mine. “What could possibly bring us back together?”

No sooner has she spoken than suddenly Artsy makes a beeline for us and, after a bout of air-kissing, announces loudly, “Robyn, I want you to meet someone.” Before I quite know what is happening, I see a familiar figure in a blue overcoat standing next to him. “Robyn, this is Daniel.”

For a split second glances fly between them and they both blush.

“Hi. Nice to meet you, Robyn.” Playing along, he holds out his hand.

She hesitates for a moment, then takes it. “Nice to meet you too, Daniel.”

Their eyes meet and, still holding hands, they exchange smiles. The kind of smiles you see between two people who feel like they're the only ones in the whole room.

And all at once it hits me. It's not
what
could bring them back together. It's
who
.

Artsy.

Otherwise known as Harold
.

Of course. Harold was never meant to be her soul mate; he was simply the person who would bring her together with her true soul mate:
Daniel
.

I look at them now, both grinning madly at each other. You know, maybe that psychic was onto something.

Making a discreet exit, I leave Robyn and Daniel and wander off by myself. Alone, I take a sip of champagne, relishing the few moments to look around the gallery, at Artsy, Magda, Daniel and Robyn, Kate and Jeff, Adam . . . I feel a glow of contentment. After everything, it's all worked out.

And Nate? I haven't seen him since Venice. I noticed on Facebook that he'd changed his relationship status to “married to Beth” and given his address as L.A., but that was ages ago. Since then he's defriended me, I've stopped bumping into him, and there have been no more mysterious missed calls.

Maybe it's simply because he moved back to L.A., or maybe it really is because we went back to Venice and broke the spell. I'll never know for certain, but if you believe in destiny like Robyn does, then it was all meant to happen this way. I was meant to kiss Nate in Venice ten years ago, to meet him again, to break up, then
not
break up, which forced me to return to Venice, because that's how I came to be with Adam. All these events led me to Adam. It was all written in the stars from the very beginning.

Or maybe you're like my sister and think it's all a load of nonsense— that there's no such thing as magic and legends and fate, that it was just a string of coincidences that kept throwing Nate and me together, that I let my imagination run away with itself.

Personally, I like to think the old Italian was right, that nothing is more powerful than love, and by falling in love with Adam I finally broke the spell that Nate had over me. I was able to move on.

And the legend? Is it real? Nobody knows, but if it is, Adam and I are now tied together for eternity and can never break up. We'll have to spend the rest of our lives together.

I look across at him, and seeing me, he flashes me a smile.

And I couldn't be happier about it.

T
hanks to my wonderful agent, Stephanie Cabot. A big thank-you to Sara Kinsella and Isobel Akenhead, and everyone at Hodder for all their support and enthusiasm. Thanks as always to my mum and dad and sister, Kelly, who have been as amazing as ever. I really couldn't do this novel-writing business without you!

Thanks also to my great bunch of friends on both sides of the Atlantic : Beatrice, Sara, Dana, Pete, Melissa, Rachel, Matt, Tricia, Georgie, Kate, and Bev, for cheering me on from the sidelines, making me smile, giving me inspiration, and never telling me to shut up when I start talking about plots, characters, and deadlines. . . .

And finally a special mention for Barney, who sits beside me as I write. Never has there been a finer muse. Here's to the next one, kiddo.

ALSO BY ALEXANDRA POTTER