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I opened my mouth to retort but he cut me off.
“You’re American, r
ight? From New York?”
“California.”
“Hollywood? You’re pretty enough to be an actress.”
“Speaking of huge clichés…”
Adrien shrugged, his eyes sharp again. “Annoying, isn’t it?”
I opened my mouth to retort, then snapped it shut. “I’m not an actress. I’m a journalist, or will be if you’d let me get a question in.”
I rummaged in my bag for a pencil and notepad to conceal how flustered he made me. My hand flailed too fast, and as I tore out my pencil and notebook, the cocktail napkin with his rough sketch of me flew out of the bag and fluttered down onto the patio. I bent to snatch it but Adrien was quicker; lightning quick.
He plucked it off the ground, an infuriating smile spreading over his lips.
“I believe you dropped this.”
Adrien
She kept the drawing.
The warmth that flooded my chest at that was unwelcome.
So she’s beautiful? You’ve been with plenty of pretty girls.
“The waiter gave it to me,” Janey said haughtily. “I meant to throw it away, actually.”
“But you didn’t.”
She crossed her arms. “Did you draw this?”
I nodded. “Still Life with Hair and Book.”
“God, you’re obnoxious.” She snatched the napkin and tossed it onto the table.
“But you do remember me,” I said, sitting back and lacing my fingers behind my head. I kicked my feet up on another chair. “I thought so.”
“Can we please start the interview?”
“Ask.”
She huffed a breath and composed her face. “You live here with your sister?”
I nodded once, slowly. “And my mother. I help my mother take care of Sophie, and vice versa.”
“And your father…?”
“He went to Vietnam in ’53.” I held her gaze steadily. “He didn’t come back.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that,” she said, her voice warming. “You are the sole provider for your mother and sister, then?”
“I am.”
Now her beautiful face softened and I felt another question I wasn’t prepared to answer readying on her lips. I flashed her the smile that Brigitte said could disarm any woman.
