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He smiles. “I’m trying to tell you how serious I am. I wish I could turn back the hands of time and undo what I did with Francine. I would never have hurt you if I’d realized earlier how much you meant to me and asked you to be my wife.”
My eyes roam around the table to see if anyone is listening to our conversation. I’m beginning to regret that I allowed him to stay. At the head of the table, I see Gabriel looking at us keenly.
“Could we please have this conversation later?” I reply in a low voice.
His blue eyes light up with pleasure. “Is that a yes?”
“Certainly not!” I snap under my breath. “Pierre, I have told you we can’t be together again. Which part of it are you not hearing?”
He sighs. “All I ask for is another chance. Please.”
Mercifully, our next-door neighbor calls my name, asking me a question about the Met. I shift my gaze from Pierre’s imploring eyes to answer her. From then on, I ignore Pierre and concentrate on the conversation around the table. He tries to draw me into a private discussion repeatedly, but I snub him.
After the meal, we enjoy a game of charades while the younger kids draw and paint, supervised by the older ones. We have a delightful time, and my team wins. Pierre insists on speaking to me about something important. I reluctantly follow him to the terrace. The weather is chilly as winter is well on its way. I drag my jacket tighter across my chest.
“What is it, Pierre?” I ask as I sit on the white recliner positioned beside the potted plants.
He settles on the bench and places his hands together. “I need you to listen to me with an open mind. Please. Can you do that for me?”
I sigh. “Okay.”
“Sincerely, I’m sorry for everything. I know sorry isn’t enough, but I want to make things right with you.”
“Pierre . . .”
“Please listen. There’s an opening for a conservator job at the Louvre.”
“What?”
He nods with eagerness. “I know how much you’ve always wanted that position. Come back to Paris with me, and I’ll make sure you get it. A recommendation in the right ear, and the job is yours. But that’s only if you’re back in Paris.”
“And start a relationship with you again, right?”
He raises his hands in mock surrender. “Not at all. I promise I won’t put pressure on you.”
I chew on my bottom lip as I contemplate what he just said. The offer is tempting, but at the same time, going back to Paris and working at the Louvre means having Pierre close by. Despite his promise not to pressure me, I know he won’t be able to help himself. Considering he has gone as far as buying an engagement ring, he won’t let me be until I tell him yes. And do I really want to return to where I’d hear whispers behind my back, especially if Pierre stalks me at every turn?
“This is a great opportunity, Gigi. Don’t let it pass you by because of what happened between us. You returning to the Louvre with my ring on your finger would make a romantic story, wouldn’t it?”
I eye him with suspicion. “I wondered if you had an ulterior motive for coming to New York. Now I see it.”
He grins. “Not at all, Gigi. It’s not what you’re thinking. I want what’s best for you.”
I turn away from him and look at the East River in the distance. It would be wonderful to go back to Paris to be with my family. I miss them, even though I’m having a wonderful time here with Gabe and Maddie. But now, I have an excellent opportunity here in New York, and I hope that after the exhibit opens, I’ll be reassigned as a conservator.
The show is set for next week, and we planned the grand reception for the day before the opening. I’ve been complimented on my work for securing the Mayan sculpture for the exhibit, and I was made to understand that I’d be assigned to a new role shortly after the event has taken place. So, why throw all that away to go back to Paris for a job that isn’t guaranteed? Do I want Pierre hanging around me every day, pleading for a second chance? And then there’s Miles.
“Please think about it, Gigi. This is a wonderful opportunity. It would be like you never left, and you would have your dream job.”
I shake my head. “Pierre, you and I know things will never be the same again. Please let it go. I’m happy here in New York. I don’t want to return to Paris.”
His shoulders droop, and his face falls. “Are you sure about that? I don’t want to sound like a broken record, but I’m really sorry for what I did.”
I smile and pat his shoulder. “I know you are, but you will go back to Paris without me.”
He keeps silent for some minutes before raising his head. “I won’t give up, you know. You once loved me, and I know I can make you love me again.”
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes. I don’t bother telling him it will be a waste of time, because he won’t believe me.
