“How did your thing go this morning?”I ask, greeting him with a cautious smile.
He rakes his hands through his dark hair, his face falling slightly.“I’d rather not talk about it.”
The stress lines creeping across his face make me think twice about pressing him further.I decide it’s best not to bring up his little visitor this morning.
I shift nervously from one foot to the other.“So, your note mentioned lunch,” I say, wondering if that’s still on the table given his current mood.
“Plans changed,” he mutters.
My heart drops to my stomach.
My vacation is over.Hail me a cab, and get me on the next flight home.Au revoir, Paris.
“I’m sorry.I can get out of your hair.”I reach for my suitcase.
“I didn’t say you need to leave.”His brows furrow.“Our plans have changed, as we’ve”—he swipes in the space between us—“been invited to my brother Henri’s home for déjeuner, lunch.”
Did I hear him correctly?Lunch with his brother?
I let a soft sigh escape.
The Colette thing must not be a big deal, or he’d let me leave.A sense of hope resurfaces.I bite my lip, attempting to quell the excitement flowing through my body.I want to pounce on the opportunity to ask if I can stay longer, but I want him to come to that conclusion on his own.
“Unless, of course, you have other plans,” he adds, knowing darn well I don’t have any other plans because if I did, I wouldn’t still be here.
“Um”—I rock on my feet, trying to play it cool—“Nope.I’m all yours.”
I’m all yours?Did I really just say that?
A sly smile smolders on Luca’s lips.“Perfect.”He rubs his chin.“I need to make a phone call, and then we’ll head out.”He walks away, leaving me simmering in embarrassment.
The sound of the balcony latch draws me into the living room, where I catch Luca pacing along the narrow terrace, phone clutched tightly in his hand.
Colette sneaks back in to my thoughts, but I shove her and her oversized sunglasses aside.I quickly busy myself by walking over to the grand antique mirror, where I gather my long hair to one side and weave a loose braid that cascades over my right shoulder, resting along my collarbone.Gazing at myself in the mirror, I notice my lips are pleading for a dash of color.I pull a tube of cherry-red lip stain from my pocket and glide the wand over my lips before pressing them together.With a satisfied nod at my reflection, I stroll back to the entryway, slipping into my long red coat, black scarf, and matching black gloves.
“It’s a nice day for a walk if that’s okay with you.”Luca appears behind me, reaching for his black jacket and this time choosing a gold scarf.
“Oui.J’aimerais ça.”I giggle.
“Ah, elle parle une peu français.”
“Juste un peu.”I squish my gloved thumb and pointer finger together.“I took French in high school and then again in college, but I’m out of practice.”
“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunity to practice your French while you’re here.”
Will I?
“Shall we?”I reach for the door.
A silly grin crosses his face.
“What?”I playfully ask, feeling self-conscious.
“You might want to rethink those.”He nods toward my shoes.
“What’s wrong with these?”I ask, kicking up one of the thin-heeled ankle boots adorning my size seven foot.“I wear these walking all over Manhattan.I’m a pro.Plus, they look cute with my outfit.”
“I don’t doubt that, but this isn’t New York.”He grins, studying my face.
