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“They’re not open?”
“Not on Sundays, no.”
“Rules don’t apply to you, Mr. Frost?”
“We’re going to be married—”
“Pretend married.”
“So you should call me Evan.”
Her lips parted, but any response was forestalled by the proprietress’s arrival.
“Evan!” Breezily, Isabelle kissed each of his cheeks while Kaylee looked on, blinking at the sight.
Distracted from his annoyance, he returned Isabelle’s greeting. “You look radiant.” And she did.
Though she didn’t appear to be over forty, she was somewhere past seventy-five. Her hair hung to midback, and her black dress floated to the floor. Her jewelry, in custom-created, classic pieces, was understated.
“Come in, both of you.”
Moments later, she turned the lock behind them.
“You must be Ms. Robbins.” Isabelle extended her hand. “Welcome to Charme du Vieux Carré.”
“It’s…” As the two greeted one another, Kaylee glanced around. “Amazing.”
“We’ve been here for forty years.”
“I can see why. Elegant, classy, yet comfortable.”
“Are you in marketing?”
Kaylee laughed. Had he ever heard that sound before?
“No. Just commenting on the vibe I’m getting. The flowers, the tree with the gifts beneath, the plush chairs that invite people to relax.”
Isabelle’s eyes twinkled. “That’s more about being smart. Sometimes customers take much longer to browse than their companions are expecting. If they have a place to unwind with a whiskey or bubbly, they’re less likely to interrupt a potential purchase.”
“That’s smart,” Kaylee acknowledged. “At any rate, thank you for accommodating us on your day off.”
Isabelle smiled at him. “All he ever has to do is ask.”
A man who Isabelle introduced as Jean Claude joined them from the back room. “May we offer you champagne? Coffee?”
“Thank you, but I don’t want to put you to any trouble,” was Kaylee’s unsurprising reply.
“Having a beverage makes everyone more comfortable.” Isabelle’s contradiction was soft and hospitable yet firm.
“In that case, coffee for me, please.”
Frost nodded. “Same.”
“Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?” Isabelle asked Kaylee.
“Something inexpensive.”
As if there was anything in this store that fit that description. Dismissively Frost waved his hand, earning him an icy glare from his fake fiancée. “My grandmother will have certain expectations.”
