“And Yves’ film will be in Toronto in October. How do you feel about that?”
“I mean, I might not even be working there. He’ll do the industry summit next week, and there’s the festival in October. I can’t control where he goes, or if he sees Sabine. That’s already happened, and the world didn’t fall apart.”
“True,” he said, one hand on the small of her back, one cradling her hand. So confident. So solid. “Remember I suggested you work at Maison Fortin? I will be travelling more, and to know you were supervising things … We would make an amazing partnership, in more ways than one.”
A solution to all her problems. And a romantic overture in there, too. “That is an incredible offer,” she said, “and so tempting. It would be a situationship, as Sabine and her friends call it?”
He nodded. “That is good for us both, yes? It’s only natural. This may be a new word the youth use, but it is often that way in Europe. For me, it has always been the way, with different partners, from time to time, as it suits both of us.”
He pulled her closer. The smell of his cologne, just enough for only the person closest to him, was intoxicating. But she could feel Luc eyeing them, and she could not seem to give Guillaume the yes he wanted.
The end of the night arrived. Luc stepped up to the mic, thanked everyone for supporting Mirabelle, and said that when Marlowfirst arrived, he didn’t think she belonged, but now it was so clear that she did. They would miss her if she weren’t able to stay.
“Vive Madame le maire de Mirabelle!”cried Madame Belleville.
“Vive Madame le maire de Mirabelle!”echoed everyone else, giving her a round of applause. Marlow beamed. Her father, proud, stepped forward out of the crowd and took a photo of his daughter on his cell phone. Marlow thought she might lose it right there.
It was like something out of a storybook … except Rémy was clearly unhappy about the change in power dynamics. But no daggers from her could ruin this moment.
“À demain,” said Rémy, turning her back on Marlow and heading down the stairs.
“À demain,” said Marlow, and she had to wonder exactly what it was that frosty Rémy had in store for her at the appeal meeting the next day.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
While Luc and Fedir took down the stage and lights, Marlow and Lali stayed up until three AM to count the proceeds. They were exhausted but also on the adrenaline high of an evening where everything had worked out, and everyone had had an extraordinary time. They regaled each other with the highlights.
“And I saw you dance with Guillaume, but not with Luc,” said Lali, digging for gossip.
“It didn’t mean anything—Luc was busy.”
“Yes,” said Lali, “busy watching you and Guillaume dance.”
“Stop talking,” Marlow said, making her final tally, “or I’ll forget my count.”
So Lali was quiet for a time, but then couldn’t help herself. “Have you chosen one over the other?” she asked. “I know you’re busy, but I have to know.”
“I don’t have an answer to that question, but I’ll tell you when I do. Now, I have our tally. I don’t have all the expenses yet from Noah and Madame Klein for the food, but I can tellalready that the final amount is going to be more than enough to cover back taxes for everyone in Mirabelle.”
Lali’s mouth dropped to the floor. “What?”
“We’re all home-free,” said Marlow. “What’s even better, we still have more left over after that. What should we do with the rest?”
“What about donating to Sylvain’s medical clinic?” asked Lali.
“Perfect. And what about paying for your French medical license? The clinic will need a doctor, and Mirabelle has one.”
Lali had a good cry after that. Marlow comforted her and felt almost high with happiness.
Marlow, bleary-eyed, awoke with a jolt. She had the appeal at themairie, after which Luc would drive her and the others to the airport.
She pulled on the first clothes she could find and looked at Luc, across the bedroom windows, sprawled on his bed, shirtless but with his pants still on from last night, dead to the world. This might be the last time she’d see him like that. Hot even in yesterday’s clothing.
Marlow found Sabine and Aubin, who had slept over on the couch, eating breakfast and cleaning the fridge.
“All that’s left is a piece of cheese, a stale baguette, and three pickles,” said Sabine. “Want one?”
“No thanks,” said Marlow. “I’m off to the appeal—you two keep cleaning.”
