Kyle didn't go straight back to the hotel.
He walked. Past the edge of Regent's Park, down streets lined with white townhouses and black railings, until the grey afternoon started bleeding into evening. His mind was still in that café, replaying the moment Maya had whispered her own name at the door.
"Angelica."
It had sounded like a question. Like she was asking herself if it was true.
Kyle stopped at a crossing and pulled out his wallet to pay for a coffee he didn't need. A small card slipped out with the receipt. Cream-colored. Embossed. A name and a phone number, nothing else.
Eleanor.
He stared at it.
Twice now, she had appeared out of nowhere. First at Gucci, chasing him onto the pavement with this card. Then on the street after his breakfast with Viktor, standing in front of him like it was the most natural thing in the world. He had told her he'd take a rain check.
"I don't believe in coincidences. Not anymore."
