Bastien leaned against the table, surveying her. “Are you worried?”
“No,” Celine scoffed. Then, softly, “Maybe.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t think I’d enjoy being here this much,” she confessed, fussing with one of the cloth patterns pinned on the board. “Maison Baudelaire has practically been my house of worship ever since I turned fourteen. And I’ve hardly seen all of the House yet. The mannequins, the designs, even that pungentsmell coming from the fabric room—I don’t wish to leave all of it so quickly.”
“You won’t,” Bastien said. He picked up the bag with all her supplies inside and swung it over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s take a look around. On the far off chance that we’re the next to go, we should at least make the most of it. Maybe steal a button or two.”
“Bas!”
“I’m only kidding.” He laughed, the sound reverberating through the empty hall. “But it would make a fun souvenir, don’t you think?”
Celine relented a smile. “Sure. Then you can use it to chisel our way out of the prison cell.”
Bastien tsked disappointedly. “You’re such a poor sport, Celine. I truly wonder why I even hang out with you.”
“Do I really need to remind you?”
“Oh, you’d love to, wouldn’t you?”
Their voices echoed as they ascended to the second floor, poking their heads like thieves through any door they found unlocked.
Chapter 10
The Importance of Being Earnest
“Maman, don't you think a Marie Antoinette themed birthday might raise the wrong expectations?”
Madame LeBeau abstained from facing her daughter. She was entirely absorbed in picking through the selected assortment of pastel coloureddragéefor the party favour. “Such as?”
Celine considered her wearily. “The guests might expect a guillotine instead of cake.”
The weekend had arrived quickly, and though her mind was glued to the competition, Celine was glad their second challenge had finished early. It provided a reprieve from lying to her mother that morning when she had insisted they go out to make reservations for Celine’s birthday.
“Please, darling,” Madame LeBeau sighed, handing the plate of pink, green, and white almonds to the confectioner she had hired. “You're being absurd.” She settled the order for one hundred bags, scheduled a date for cake tasting, and exited the store satisfied. “Sure, Marie Antoinette had her faults, but you can't deny her impeccable taste, can you?”
“I don’t think everyone will see it that way.”
“Oh, what does everyone know.” Madame LeBeau thinned her lips. “And that reminds me—I need to schedule an appointment with the head journalist of that magazine, what’sits name…Anyways, they must come and take a few proper photos, don’t you think?”
Celine looked down at her gloved hands and supplied a tired nod as she slumped against the brown leather seat of their car. Shopping bags took up most of the space on the seats and more were stuffed beneath them. The heel of her shoe got caught in one of the bags and she almost kicked Anaïs, who was sitting opposite her, while trying to wiggle it out.
“Of course, maman,” Celine grunted, still moving her leg around. The wrapping bow was being stubborn. She bent at her waist to push the bags away. “As you—wish.”
“Perfect.” Madame LeBeau waved at their driver to get his attention. “Place Vendôme, Charles. We will walk from there, but stay nearby to take our bags if we buy anything else.”
“Of course, madame.”
Celine’s eyes widened. “Place Vendôme?”
Just then, the engine rumbled to a start and their driver backed out. Celine didn’t have time to brace herself and she toppled forward, slamming her forehead against Anaïs’s knees.
“Are you okay?” Anaïs only appeared amused. The soft mid-morning sun was warming half of her face, the other half was shadowed by her hat. But her hazel eyes were unmistakably glossed with that glint of hidden knowledge. She knew something Celine did not.
“I’m fine,” Celine said, rubbing her forehead. “The car moved too fast.”
“What is up with you today?” Madame LeBeau regarded her suspiciously. “You have looked pale since we left home. And you’ve been floundering about the stores like there’s something else on your mind. This is foryourbirthday party, you know,” she chided. “You ought to pay more attention.”
