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I had a good time, too. Will leave concert tickets at the ticket office. Bring your friends.
Feeling light-headed, she lifted another book from the box. As she added it to the pile for shelving, a photograph fluttered to the floor. She picked it up, dusted it off with her fingers and studied it. A couple were locked together. It was taken in black-and-white and there were a couple of cracks on the surface as if it had been folded into someone’s pocket. There was something familiar about the woman. Grace held it closer and her heart skipped like a child in the playground.
She carried it to the front of the shop, where the light was better.
It was her grandmother. She’d seen photos of Mimi taken when she was in her early twenties, and she’d recognize her anywhere. She had the elegant, willowy form of a dancer.
In the photo she was holding tightly to the hand of the man by her side. There was no doubt at all that they were in love.
But her grandmother had never been in love, had she?
Grace stared hard at the photograph. The woman in the picture was definitely in love.
Who was the man in the picture, and why was it hidden inside a book?
She walked to the back of the shop and retrieved the book, but there didn’t seem to be anything significant about it. It was a nonfiction book about the geography of the Alps. There were no clues as to why the photograph would be inside that particular book.
She put it down and stared at the photograph for a long time.
Who was this man her grandmother was looking at with such devotion? And why hadn’t she ever mentioned him?
Audrey
She’d never felt more awkward in her life.
She’d wanted to impress Etienne, and she’d totally and utterly blown it. What must he think of her?
As they took the steps that led down to the river, she shoved her hands into her pockets and decided to get the conversation over with.
“Look, about last night. I’m sorry, okay?”
“You’re sorry?” Etienne stopped walking and caught her arm. “I’m the one who is sorry. I’m the one who left you. I didn’t mean to be so long, I swear.”
“Your job wasn’t to look after me. I can look after myself.” Technically, it had been Grace who had looked after her, but she wasn’t going to broadcast that fact.
“You were my guest. Also—” he shrugged “—I know what Marc is like. He doesn’t understand boundaries. Never knows when to stop.”
“He kept topping up my glass—” She broke off in midsentence. That was what her mother did, wasn’t it?
Made excuses. You don’t understand. I’ve had a bad day. As if the bottle of wine had opened itself and jumped into her hand without any collusion on her part.
Marc had topped up her glass, but he hadn’t poured it down her throat, had he? She was the one who had drunk it. She could have said no. Blaming Marc was the easy way out, but the truth was all she’d needed to do was say the words I don’t drink. But she hadn’t. She’d been trying to fit in. To look cool.
She’d been cowardly.
“I don’t know what happens next, Etienne, but if we go on another date, I won’t be drinking. I need you to know that.”
“I understand. Your head hurts, it is the morning after—” he waved a hand expressively “—you’re never drinking again.”
He didn’t get it. And why would he? He wasn’t a mind reader, and she hadn’t shared anything personal about herself. And that was part of the reason she was in this mess now.
If she didn’t fix it, this would keep happening and she didn’t want it to keep happening.
“You don’t understand. I don’t drink.” She spoke firmly and clearly. “Not alcohol.”
He frowned. “But last night—you said vodka was your favorite.”
“Last night I was stupid. I should have said no when Marc offered it to me, but—” Oh, this was so awkward. “I really like you, but I can’t do that again even for you. Next time I’ll be saying no. So if that’s going to bother you, then you’d better say now.”
