When I first went to work for MI5, after my stint in rehab, Lynx had come to me and asked if I’d be willing to be the second person listed on Edge’s medical power of attorney. Given their parents had been killed in a car accident when he and Edge were teenagers, I immediately agreed.
Doing so meant that until Lynx arrived in South Korea, I would be the one giving the doctors the okay to do whatever was necessary to make sure my friend both lived and had use of his arm.
Three weeks later, Edge was stable enough to be transported from Seoul to a hospital in London. There, his doctors anticipated he’d required at least one additional surgery, potentially more, in order to regain full use of his hand.
The man was the orneriest wanker I’d ever known. I wondered if I’d been just as bad. Worse, probably.
?
??Exponentially worse, actually,” Carson said when he met us at the hospital, and I asked.
I’d contacted him to see if he did the type of rehab Edge would require, and was pleased to find out he did. I immediately hired him, knowing if he could put up with me, he could handle my best friend.
“Thanks for meeting me for lunch,” my sister said the day after I’d arrived back in London. “How’s Edge?”
I told her about his attitude. “He’s a right bloody wanker.”
“No wonder you are such good friends.”
I gave her a scowl and picked up the menu.
“Miles, have you talked to Pia recently?”
“I have not.”
“Do you intend to?”
I set the menu down. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged. “I think you should. In fact, I think she may be on her way here as we speak.”
“Here?”
“London.”
“I see. Did you happen to mention I’d be here?”
“No, Miles. I haven’t spoken to her in several days, but when I last did, she gave me the dates she’d be in town.”
“What’s the reason for her visit?”
“A business trip is my understanding, but, Miles, she isn’t traveling alone.”
I scrubbed my face with my hand. “Get to the point, Lily.”
“She’s coming here with someone named Paolo.”
Paolo? Could it be the same wanker she was dating when we first met? The one she ran into the night of Lily and Wills’ wedding celebration and my homecoming party? The same night Pia had changed my life forever? “He’s married. Perhaps, as you said, it’s a business trip.”
Lily peered up at me. “If he was, he isn’t any longer.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I got the impression they were dating.”
I sat back in my chair and attempted to tamp down the anger and jealousy I felt the moment my sister said Paolo’s name.
Did I have any right to feel this way? Wasn’t Pia free to live her life as she saw fit? The last time I saw her was the day she dropped me off at rehab for my opioid addiction, and that was over two years ago. We’d written letters—sporadically, on my part in particular—but neither of us mentioned trying to see each other again.