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“Oui, vachement.”
“She’s beautiful, no?”
“Très, très, très belle.”
“This is the first time I see you be intimate with someone.”
“Pardon?”
“You are sharing you, and that takes great courage.”
“Oui, it does.” She filled my glass again.
“That means more to mademoiselle than all the belle dresses in Paris.”
“She says she only wants me, not les choses…things.”
“She’s not like cette fille.”
“You’re right. She’s nothing like Mademoiselle Chantal.”
She pointed to her chest. “Elle ne desire que ce qui est à l’intérieur.”
“I know. She said she wants to know me.”
“Then give her what she wants…you. Tell her everything.”
“What if she leaves?”
“She won’t.”
I walked over and hugged her. “Merci, Marie.”
“You are welcome.
Chapter Eighteen
gabriella
* * *
I sort of messed up Phillippe’s plans for today. Actually, it’s his fault for planning such an amazing date last night. He did very well with his rain check.
Instead of going to a museum, we spent the afternoon walking around the city. We looked like all the other French couples or lovers strolling the city.
“Marie likes you.”
I looked at him smiling. “I like her, too.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and we continued walking. “She says she is going to teach me how to be a French woman.”
“Really?” He smiled.
“Oui.” He kissed me. “She’s been teaching me French.”
“Vraiment ?”
“Oui, vraiment.”
“You understood what I said?”
