Paris by Heart Read online

  He stared for an instant, batting his eyelids in slow motion. His mouth twisted and he burst into a hearty laughter that resonated through the street. A few passers-by turned and grinned at his merriment as tears formed in his eyes.

  It irked her that he could make such fun of her. After all, she’d made the effort to come after him at the risk of being dismissed. She’d explained herself and apologised. He must have known how small she was feeling. Did he have no compassion?

  Well, she wasn’t going to let him make her feel even smaller. In fact, his reaction had the opposite effect. He was an ass after all, wasn’t worth the effort. She walked away, head high, protecting herself with the illusion of strength that her posture projected.

  “Elise!”

  She heard his hurried footsteps but didn’t slow.

  “Elise!”

  She felt his hand on her shoulder and had to stop. Gently he turned her around. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve never thought of Julie in that way. She’s a lovely lady, an excellent boss and I consider her a very good friend, more than that even. She’s like family. I respect her, but she is not for me, not in that way. She is much older than me, too, you have not noticed? Not that that means it would be impossible, but I have never been attracted to her. What makes you think that I am?”

  His mouth opened and his eyes widened as he seemed to recall something. “Oh, wait, was it when you came into the kitchen and she had her arms around me? It was a motherly hug.”

  Elise shrugged. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business anyway. But at least we don’t have to feel bad about Julie.” She forced a chuckle, trying to make light of it. “And the woman in your life, the one you bought the flowers and the cakes for, she won’t find out from me. That kiss we shared, it was nothing. It was a moment of folly, a mistake, call it what you like. It won’t happen again, so let’s leave it at that. All right?”

  “I understand perfectly.” He slowly bent down and placed the wrapped cakes between his feet. He reached out and with a swoop of the arm drew Elise closer.

  She felt the warmth of his body against hers and wanted to give in. His musky scent enveloped her and her lips were drawn to his. It wouldn’t take much for him to have her eating out of the palm of his hand, not much at all. If she let herself go she could give herself to him so easily and she’d feel high, euphoric. It was so tempting.

  His lips found hers and she tasted him. He was salty and sweet at the same time and she wanted nothing more than to be his. If only there were no consequences.

  She somehow found the strength to place her hands flat on his chest and push him away, tearing herself from his lips even though her body was burning with desire.

  He leaned close to her ear and she expected sweet nothings, words of love spoken too soon, words that couldn’t be true. “Don’t step on the cakes,” he said with a cheeky grin.

  She checked the distance between the beautifully wrapped packet and her feet. The desserts were safe, but her heart wasn’t. “You shouldn’t have done that and I shouldn’t have let you.”

  He lifted her chin towards him. “Why? I am not with Julie. What now? You don’t want me to?”

  If there was one thing she knew, it was that that wasn’t the reason. She wanted him to. She wanted him to over and over. She wanted him. But she couldn’t bear to be the other woman, even if he wasn’t with Julie, couldn’t stand any hearts being broken, not hers, not anyone’s. She thought of Steve for an instant, of how that break-up had been, and she flinched at the memory of pain.

  Paul ran his fingers down her arm. “Is everything all right?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not that I didn’t want to kiss you, you know that. It may be accepted here that people have affairs, I’m not sure how it works in France, how it works for you, but for me it’s not possible. I can’t do it. I simply will not break another woman’s heart, whether I know her or not. Besides, mine just wouldn’t stand up to it, not after everything it’s been through.”

  His voice was but a whisper now. “There is no other woman.”

  “But the flowers?”

  “An elderly lady who helps me out at home.”

  “The cakes too?”

  He nodded and cupped his hands around her face. His lips found hers again and this time she let herself go, let the pleasure invade her body and take over, leaving her breathless. Paul brought Elise’s head to his shoulder and kissed her on the forehead. He held her for a moment, and she wanted to stay there forever in the warmth of his arms.

  After a while he gently moved away. He kissed her one last time on the lips, a soft, tender peck and as he pulled away Elise noticed how his face glowed. It looked like happiness. He picked up the sweet-smelling box and gestured to the road. “I’m sorry but I have to go tonight, unfortunately. Family dinner, you know. I would invite you, but uh…”

  She felt thrilled and disappointed at the same time, thrilled that he should even mention inviting her but saddened that she had to tear herself away from Paul tonight.

  “No, of course, I understand,” she offered. “Another day, perhaps. There’s plenty of time.”

  Plenty of time? There wasn’t, really. A month and a half or so and she’d be gone and not just next door, to a country on the other side of the world.

  He nodded and she thought she caught the shadow of sadness on his face. He soon perked up, but the tightness in his jaw made her suspect it was forced cheerfulness. “I’ll see you next week. Have a great weekend.”

  She smiled back at him, but a sense of dread filled her heart. What now? She’d told herself she didn’t need a man. She had honestly believed she didn’t want one after getting a taste of what it was like to make your own decisions and live the life you’d dreamed of with no one around to openly stop you or quietly steer you in a direction that suited them better. And Paul belonged in Paris while she lived on the other side of the world in Australia.

  As she watched him walk over to the Metro entrance and disappear down the stairs to the underground the ache in Elise’s throat surprised her. It told her that she was falling for the seductive Frenchman too fast and too hard. She was on a rollercoaster ride she couldn’t control.

  She bit her lip. What was she going to do now? She didn’t know. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was in trouble.

  Big trouble.

  Chapter 12

  The doorbell rang. Paul opened it and Monique stepped in, holding a bag of chouquettes, light pastry puffs the size of a golf ball dotted with beads of sugar. They were Christine’s favourite treat.

  “You shouldn’t have!” Paul patted Monique on the shoulder. “No wonder she adores you.”

  Monique laughed. “Nothing like bribery!” She placed her handbag on the small chest of drawers and tidied her hair. “In all seriousness, she’s a child. Now’s the time for happiness. She may not find it easy to let herself be so content once she’s a grown woman. I know more than a few adults who struggle with that.”

  Paul looked away hoping the wise words were not meant for him. “Mamie Monique is here,” he called out and Christine instantly came running, her eyes wide with excitement at the sight of the bag of pastries.

  Monique bent down and gave the curly-haired girl a peck on the cheek.

  “I’m going to work now.” Paul took his jacket off the nearby coat rack. “Come and say goodbye to Daddy.”

  Christine hesitated before moving back to her father, eyes on the floor, careful not to step on the grout in the tiled entrance. “You’re not allowed to walk on the lines.”

  Her words seemed to float in the air and Paul wondered if she sounded so angelic to everyone else. He crouched down and gestured for a hug.

  Christine wrapped her slender arms around his neck and held him a little too tight. “Stay here, Daddy. Please.”

  “You know I can’t. Otherwise we’d have no money for food or a home. It’s good to work, Christine. You’ll understand when you’re older. I’ll see you tonight, anyway. I
promise I’ll be home in time to kiss you and tuck you in bed.”

  Christine’s sweet face creased and folded as she whinged. “I don’t like it when you come home late.”

  Paul felt a twinge of guilt but he told himself he was no different to most other men. It was a father’s lot to go out to work every day and have to come home late at times. When you were a man you simply had to focus on breadwinning. There were no breaks for child-rearing, hardly any part-time jobs to be home after school. It had to be that way. At least he was home on the weekends, something he’d negotiated with Julie. That had to be enough. He would have relished spending more time with Christine, but he couldn’t.

  He rubbed his nose, a little uneasy. Would he really like to stay home more? Was he telling himself fibs to ease his conscience? He adored being in a café, loved creating beautiful dishes for customers, seeing their delight as he served them, how they breathed in the delicious aromas and took the first bite with eyes half closed.

  “We could play hide and seek!” exclaimed Christine, tugging at Paul’s pants.

  Monique distracted her with a pastry. The child squealed with delight and bit into the chouquette without hesitation.

  Paul took in the glee on his daughter’s face and it warmed his heart. “You’ll be going to kindy in a couple of hours anyway, my little darling. I’ll be home early tomorrow night and we’ll play then. Plus we’ll do something nice on the weekend, too.”

  Christine shrugged. “All we need is each other, right Daddy?” It was something she said often, in a matter-of-fact way, but today her intonation transformed it into a question, as if she’d sensed the English lessons were becoming too important to Paul and she needed reassurance.

  Paul flinched as he realised the relationship between him and his daughter was changing, subtly but surely, like sand shifting quietly under the ocean. The truth was the English lessons that not so long ago had been such an imposition on Paul were what he looked forward to more than anything else now, and Christine, despite her young age, had perceived the change in him, perhaps faster than he had himself.

  Yes, he’d been counting the hours since last Friday, when he’d kissed Elise. He’d been with her in thought more than he intended. Even now he felt like closing his eyes and drifting away as he remembered that kiss, as if nothing else mattered, but it wasn’t the time so he pulled himself together.

  Mamie Monique put a hand on the child’s shoulder. “Come on, wave goodbye to your father and I’ll read you a story before kindergarten. Oh, and by the way Paul, I’m free tonight if you are going out.”

  “That’s great, thank you. Is it OK if I ring you after my English lesson? I’m not sure whether it’s on yet. A work thing, you know.” He tried his best to seem casual about it even though his heart was beating faster at the mere thought of asking Elise to dinner.

  “No problem at all. It’ll be good for you to get out and about with someone.” The glint in Monique’s eyes told Paul she suspected, and probably hoped, it was a female companion he’d be sharing his dinner with, not some work gathering. He took on an air of impassivity so as to give away nothing.

  They exchanged a wave and Paul left, pulling the door shut behind him. As he raced down the concrete stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator, his whole body tingled with excitement. He was heading off to the Café des Amoureux and Elise would be there, or at least in the apartment above. His heart beat faster just thinking about seeing her tonight.

  Monday and Tuesday been so disappointing. He’d only caught a glimpse of her walking through the café and he was so busy then that he’d not been able to go after her. Later when he’d plucked up the courage to knock on her door she’d been out, so he’d left it at that. Things were a little awkward—they often were at the beginning of a relationship, weren’t they? In any event, he might be unsure how to act, but he knew one thing: he wanted to be with her.

  He reached the ground floor of the building, swung open the black metal door and strode into the street. He ignored the grey concrete of the buildings and footpaths and looked up at the blue sky, the sun warming his face. People rushed about to get to work, and a man accidentally bumped into him, but Paul didn’t even flinch. It was going to be a good day, no matter what. He was seeing Elise.

  He hurried down the steps to the Metro with the rest of the busy crowd and jumped into a train just before the horn sounded and the doors shut with a heavy clunk. He thought of his daughter and her angelic voice. “All we need is each other, right Daddy?” He sighed. He would have to be careful not to stress Christine. The reality was there was nothing to worry about. No matter how much he wanted to be with Elise, she would be leaving in a month and a half.

  Six weeks, what was that in a lifetime? It wasn’t wrong to be doing something he really wanted, was it, even if it couldn’t last? To do something just for himself, for how it made him feel—satisfied, loved, alive—right then, and not for the future? Madame Brouard seemed to encourage him and so did Monique. They were both women with morals and high standards, women with life experience by the bucket load who knew that time waited for no one.

  There were a few free seats that morning and, feeling lucky, Paul happily took one near the window. He looked out over the slate roofs at a flock of pigeons flying against the summer sky. He could spread his wings a little too, couldn’t he? As long as he protected Christine, as long as she felt secure, everything would be fine. He’d talk to Elise. She’d understand. He rested his head against the cool glass of the window and let the rhythmic rocking of the train soothe his mind.

  He had barely a few moments to himself when the loud ringtone of his phone suddenly brought him back to reality. He fumbled around for it and found it in the top pocket of his linen jacket. He looked to see if he recognised the phone number, but it was a private one.

  “Hello?” He sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “Hello darling. How are you?”

  He nervously moved his foot up and down, tapping to the rhythm of his anxious heart. It was Nicole. She only ever rang when she needed money and had thought up some scheme to more easily extract a good amount from him. But that wasn’t what worried him the most. His greatest fear was that one day she’d want Christine back.

  “We’re no longer darlings, Nicole. We’re divorced, remember?” He furtively glanced around at the people in the train who stared at him, listening to his conversation. The young woman facing him didn’t even attempt to wipe the smirk off her face.

  Nicole huffed. “Well, if you want to play it like that I can be nasty, too.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound harsh but I want things to be clear between us. So how are you?”

  “I’m fine.” She spoke slowly now, in her sexiest voice. “I thought we could catch up, spend a little time together, Christine, you, me… Just the three of us as a family, you know.”

  He jumped to his feet. “A family? Are you kidding me?”

  The sexiness of her tone turned to snappiness. “I want to see Christine. I’m her mother. I have every right. How about I go and pick her up right now, since you don’t want to be involved? It won’t take me long to get to the kindergarten from here.”

  He went weak at the knees and moved back to return to his seat, but a young punk with bright pink hair had taken it. Paul looped his arm around the chrome handrail to steady himself.

  “No, you’re right, the three of us together will be good for Christine. We can work something out.”

  “Great! How about tonight?”

  He had to buy time. At least that way he’d be able to prepare Christine for the mother who appeared and disappeared like a yoyo’s string. “It’s a school night. I don’t want her to be tired tomorrow.”

  Nicole scoffed. “You’re being difficult again. She can miss the day. She’s at kindergarten for crying out loud.”

  “I’ll have you know pre-primary is compulsory in this country.” It was true, but he
felt stupid saying it, although he would have said anything to protect Christine and provide a stable home for her, with routines and a sense of security. And he wanted enough time to prepare his daughter for another visit from Nicole, who only ever made erratic and often disastrous appearances in the child’s life.

  There was silence at the other end of the line and he thought Nicole had backed off, but suddenly she came up with another brilliant idea. “I could sleep over and look after her tomorrow.”

  He gasped with horror at the thought of it. “That won’t be necessary. We can sort something out. How long are you in Paris? Maybe we could do something on the weekend?”

  “What kind of a question is that? I don’t know how long I’m going to be here! Besides, I don’t want to wait. Maybe your nanny could look after Christine tomorrow. You know what? Maybe she could even take care of her tonight once she’s in bed and we could go out just the two of us, paint the town red. Like old times.”

  He couldn’t think of anything worse. “I can’t. I’m working tomorrow. I’ll need to get up early.”

  What was even more painful was that he’d been excited at asking Elise out to dinner that evening, after the English lesson, so much so he’d rehearsed it time and time again in his mind and even in front of the mirror. He wasn’t entirely sure where he stood with Elise, wasn’t sure she’d still want him, but if she did, tonight could be a night to remember. And since Monique was free to stay with Christine, he’d even started to allow himself to feel hopeful about it. He certainly wasn’t going to give that up to go gallivanting with his ex-wife.

  Nicole let out a long breath. “You want war? Is that it? ‘Cause if that’s what you want we can do this the hard way. You know, the courts, they never say no to a mother. And I’m a good mother. I’ll have you know I’ve got lots of friends who’ll testify to that.”

  She was anything but a good mother. She was never there, made an appearance without notice a couple of times a year, and didn’t even leave an address when she disappeared. Still, the threat sent a chill down his spine. “Let’s not get carried away. There’s no need to talk about the courts. It’s just a little short notice, Nicole, that’s all. You could have let me know you were going to be in Paris.”