Page 30 of Under the Shade of the Sycamore

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by dozens of notifications arriving as well as a phone call. His happy hazel eyes shifted to a resigned sadness as he glanced at the incoming call. “It’s Soline. I should take it.”

“No, yeah, please do.” I went to move to wait by the doors of the theater. He gently took hold of my wrist, his fingers sliding under the cuff of my green shirt to rest gently over my pulse steadily thumping away.

“Stay, please. I suspect this call will signal the end of our afternoon truancy.” He sounded pretty down about it. I was too but in the back of my mind I knew this little excursion was a once in a lifetime gift from the gods. Bumpkins like me didn’t find a man like this and fall into a whirlwind romance in Paris. That kind of thing only happened in TV shows and romance novels. Reality was vastly different. “Bonjour, Soline,” Claude said into his phone. That was all I understood of the conversation. I watched lovers walking by, stopping to kiss on street corners, as Paris lit up one fashionable storefront at a time. The call wasn’t long. Not sure if it was good or not. Claude pocketed his phone, his left hand still clasping my wrist, and turned to face me. “The producers are ready to call in the gendarmes to locate you.” My eyes rounded. “Not to fret, I told her you were with me, to which she wished to lecture me but I asked to not to discuss things on the street.”

“If I had my phone I could have texted Mickey to let him know I was off seeing the city alone,” I hurried to explain, slightly panicked that I’d be booted off the show for some infraction.

“Not to worry, the fault is mine. I had a phone. I turned it off. All is well. Soline is calling for a ride for you. Your friends are at a nightclub if you wish to join them or you may return to your room at the academie.” His fingertips rubbed over my wrist in small circles. “Rest easy. There was no harm done. It was a day off and you were supervised to ensure you didn’t meet up with anyone to reveal show secrets.”

“Okay, cool, that’s…man I thought I was going home.”

“No, you are not going home, not over a day spent with someone from the show.” He studied my face for a long, long time, the night settling over us in earnest. “I would like to be honest with you. This afternoon and evening have been exquisite. It’s been many years since I felt this filled with life and wonder. A pity really as this city deserves much more than the callous blasé disregard I have given her for so many years. Seeing it through your eyes has lifted the veil of pensive sadness I’ve worn since my divorce. You’re a brightness in a life that has grown very dark. Thank you for sharing your light with me.”

Bound up in the moment, head filled with hundreds of romantic movie moments, I found myself leaning down just as he brought my arm up. Gaze holding mine he pressed his lips to my palm. I didn’t know what to say or how to respond. His phone pinged shattering the moment like a kick to the balls.

“Your ride is around the corner,” he whispered into my hand as he folded my fingers over the spot where his lips had rested. “Enjoy the rest of your day off. I shall see you tomorrow morning bright and early for your next assignment.” His attention darted to the street. I glanced over to see a dark green sedan pull over next to us. “This is your ride. He will take you where you wish to go.”

He released my hand as the driver hurried around to open the door for me with a small nod to Claude.

“See you tomorrow,” I said before climbing into the backseat.

The door closed. My sight landed on Claude, beautiful salt-and-pepper hair lit from the theater marquee, watching me as I watched him. I raised a hand. He did the same. The driver slammed his door closed as he slid behind the wheel. He asked my destination. I told him to return me to the academie. No nightclub in the world was going to top the past few hours with Claude. When I glanced back one final time Claude was gone. I sighed, turned to face forward, and massaged the spot on my palm he’d kissed with the thumb of my other hand.

See you tomorrow. Ugh, Kinder, that was the lamest goodbye in the history of goodbyes. You need to up your game slim!

Which yeah, probably, but was it a game Claude and I were playing and if so what the hell were the rules? Was there a manual for inadvisable romances or was it a romance at all? And if it were a budding romance should it even be budding given the circumstances?

Shit, I was so confused yet so utterly infatuated.

I needed some help from someone who was knowledgeable about love and I needed that help yesterday.

Chapter Twelve

Mickey arrived back at our room before midnight. He found me sitting in bed, the lights all on, working away on hand-beading a teal skirt that matched another I’d made in pink for my sisters. Working on it helped me feel closer to them.

“Glad to see you’re alive. We were starting to think we’d have to call the cops,” he said as he flopped down on his bed, chucked his red boots to the floor, then whipped his hair from his face. “Where the fuck you been? You missed a good time. Come this close to hooking up with this pretty twink before Camilo put the bogs to it. That man is a cock blocker.” He pinched air between his pointer finger and thumb.

“He’s probably supposed to keep us from spending time alone with strangers in seedy bathrooms,” I replied, biting off the thread before placing the skirt on my thighs. “I kind of had a moment at the party. The questions some of the reporters were asking about my dad were too invasive so I slipped out to go see the Arc and regroup mentally.”

“Did they freak out when you came back?”

Shit. How did I talk my way out of that question. “Yeah, Claude was here and told me off.”

“Figures. That man’s got a permanent wedge up his arse.” I could only nod. “That’s the shit isn’t it with nosy reporters?” He rolled his shoulders to divest himself of a bright blue jacket with patterned lapels. Very brash. Very Mickey. “I had a few of those kinds as well but I told them to bugger off. Never knew my father. Never wanted to so them asking about him was off limits. You could have told them the same. Fuck off you bloody parasites!” He waved a hand in the air as if shooing a fly.

“Yeah, I probably should have but I didn’t want to upset Xavier by being a brat.”

“Fuck Xavier too. And to be honest he’d probably have loved you going off on some poor blogger for the cameras.”

“Probably. The Arc was amazing. Then I found a place to eat. Had snails.” His long nose wrinkled as he kicked off his platform shoes. One went over my head and the other sailed into the bathroom. “Then I came back here to chill.”

“You should have stuck it out with the party. We went to some botanical garden, bunch of old folks tottering about oohing over pansies or whatever for a few hours. Didn’t much enjoy that. Then they took us to a club for a few hours. Busy spot. Lots of good-looking blokes. Pity the watchdog was on us like shit on your shoe but overall it was better than being stuck in here or in that miserable workroom for days on fucking end.”

“I had a nice time,” I replied, thinking of Claude’s warm smiles, tender words, and tentative touches. “Can I be totally honest with you?”

“Sure. Did you hook up while on your little adventure?” He leaned closer, elbows resting on his knees, eyes alight with wicked curiosity.

“No, no, I never did. I was just…okay, so here’s the thing. I come from a really, really small town with like zero queer anything. No groups, no Pride, no nothing with a rainbow. Lots of bigots.” I was going to have to be incredibly careful here so not to expose Claude. “But I’ve always had a thing for mature men I’ve seen on tv and in print.”