We were near the hotel with the birds, but instead of going in, we entered a café. Everyone lifted their heads to greet him, speaking fast and loudly. They had smiles on their faces. Zeke took my helmet and set it next to his in the corner as he took what I bet was his regular table.
A waitress came over and greeted Zeke with warmth, kissing him on both cheeks. She briefly regarded me, but not for long, and then disappeared into the kitchen.
“This is really nice.” It was a warm décor with about a dozen small tables that didn’t seat more than four at a time. Mostly they were two headers. Two coffees appeared before us as well as the carafe where I guessed we could pour more into our own cups if we wanted. I appreciated the coffee. I wasn’t big on eating breakfast. Well, I usually had something. But after all the eating we did yesterday, it would be fine to skip.
“It’s a favorite. Everyone in Paris has a favorite café. This is mine. I eat here every day.”
Someone across the place said something, and Zeke smiled before he shouted something back. “Why this one instead of any other?”
A basket was placed in front of us, and this time, the waitress stared at me longer. I made eye contact with her. Was she waiting for me to understand something that had been said? Because I really didn’t have a clue.
She pointed at me, and Zeke nodded, this time answering her in English. “Yes, this is Layla. She doesn’t speak French.”
“Oh.” The woman clapped her hands together. I took a long look at her. She was beautiful and sparkled in that way that French women did. Was it in the water? “Yes, I follow you. Yesterday you ah…”
I finished for her. “Ran around Paris in a wedding dress. Yes, that was me.”
She laughed. “But now I understand. New York socialite. You are sleeping with Zeke. You leave your fiancé. It all makes sense.”
Did it? I almost corrected her, but that was what we were saying. I was supposed to be dating Zeke, which would mean I had thrown over Kit for him. Wow. I’d really not thought that through. It was going to piss off the Allards to no end. There were all kinds of ramifications to this I hadn’t considered. Yes, it might hurt Kit, but I doubted it. But Mrs. Allard? Oh, yes, she was going to be mad. Laura was going to have a fit.
And maybe any chance she’d give that exorbitant amount of money to my father would go away permanently. It might have already, but still…if she’d considered doing it despite my blunder, she wouldn’t now.
In the light of day, with exhaustion not weighing on me, I could see this much more clearly. But there was no question that Ezekiel Scott understood it perfectly. I’d agreed to this. So in for a penny, in for a pound. Or euro, as the case happened to be.
I put out my hand across the table. If we were a couple, Zeke should take it. For his part, he didn’t hesitate. The man I was about to create an elaborate lie with caressed my skin with his thumb. He had hard, callused fingers, like he used his hands and not like he regularly got manicures. I stared at his nails. They were clean but not polished.
“I’ll be right back.” The waitress turned and rushed off.
With his free hand, Zeke pointed to the basket. “Eat.”
I hadn’t realized that the basket was loaded with pastries. Wow. That was a lot of carbs. I stared at it. Zeke let go of my hand. “Going to make me feed you?”
No, not in public. I had to draw a line about how far I was willing to go in that direction. Instead of eating, I sipped my coffee. It was delicious, already creamed. I tended to drink mine black, but this was fine. Better than that. Outstandingly tasty.
“We have a lot of things to do today, Layla. We have to clothe you, and then you have to come out with me tonight. And we have to talk about your future. None of that is going to happen with an empty stomach. Would you rather have some eggs?”
I took out the croissant. “The eating thing can’t be a constant issue between us. I don’t eat very much. I’m not naturally…thin. But I need to stay that way. It works for you, too, okay? If I gain weight, they’re going to say you got me pregnant. Do you want that? Or do you want me to be the person who people follow because I’m one of the redheads?”
“When your feet feel better, we can run together.”
That was all he was going to say to my pronouncement? Really? I angrily buttered my croissant. It was possible to sort of abuse it so that I could take my frustration out on the food instead of him.
He ate, too, stopping only to watch a woman in the corner who started to talk loudly. I followed his direction. She wasn’t crying, but she wasn’t happy. I guessed her to be maybe forty years old, and across from her was a woman who resembled her a great deal, a younger version. Both dark haired. Both blue eyed. Strong, striking cheekbones.
They could be on the cover of something.
“Is she okay?” I asked him. I didn’t have to understand to hear tone.
“She’s not happy. She’s supposed to be leaving her to go for a walk with a man she wants to date. First time since her divorce, and she’s calling herself a bunch of names.” He kept his voice down. “Renee has lots of money, very comfortable. But this is a first, and she’s not feeling…confident.”
I turned in my seat and looked at her quickly before she noticed and then back at Zeke. She was lovely. But I could see it in the way she was holding herself in the chair, the way her daughter wasn’t making eye contact with her. It was already going to be a disastrous date, and it hadn’t happened yet. Just based on how she was feeling right now.
“I can help.”
He leaned forward. “How can you do that?”
“I…know I can.”
This was sort of what I did. In a weird way that I’d never done before. But I wanted to. The poor lady. Why start out behind? If she wanted that date, she should have it go well from the start. There were enough things that could go wrong.
“Okay.” He indicated toward her. “Her daughter knows who you are. Said it when we walked in. And they speak English.”
I rose. I was going to go bother a stranger in the hopes that I could make her day better. I must have been out of my mind, except I had to do this. I just had to.
Chapter Nine
There was no polite way to approach someone about what I was going to do. I mean, it was none of my fucking business. I had no reason whatsoever to get involved in this woman’s day. She might tell me to get the hell away from her, probably in French so I wouldn’t understand her, but I’d get the gist anyway, and I’d be humiliated in front of a café of strangers. And Zeke, who thought of me pretty badly anyway. He’d seen my bank account, and I didn’t know what was in it yet, but I was sure it wasn’t pretty.
But I felt compelled, the same way I had to run down the aisle away from Kit, and apparently, it was a week where I did what I wanted, damn the consequences.
“Hi,” I said to them, and the daughter lit up like a lightbulb. She smiled at me and then at her mom. “I’m sorry to interrupt. This is none of my business. But I thought I could help.”
The daughter said something in French, and I winced. Apparently, Zeke was not going to help me with this. Fine. “I’m sorry. I don’t speak French.” I made a face like I was an idiot as I tapped my temple. “I just never learned. Do you by any chance speak English?”
“Why yes, of course.” Her accent was thick, but she was entirely understandable. “I’m surprised you are with Zeke if you don’t.”
“Mother.” Her daughter’s accent matched her own. “She’s the redhead. Of course, he’s with her. She’s famous.”
I shook my head. Time for the line. “Oh, I’m hardly the only redhead. There are still enough of us around, even if we’re rare. Why, my sisters are both redheads, too.” I never said it exactly the same. But I got the point across each time. “So, if you don’t have a problem with me absolutely not minding my own business, I can help you.”
“Oh.” Her daughter got to her feet. “Layla, I am Danette, and this is Mother, Renee.”
I smi
led and nodded, trying to remember my manners in this mannerless situation that I’d created for myself. “I have a little experience with clothes.”
Danette said something to her mother in French, and eventually, her mother rose. “I’m afraid it may be a helpless situation. I don’t have time to go shopping.”
This was where most people misunderstood what I liked to do. There was absolutely no need to go to a store. We just had to adjust how she wore what she was wearing so that she felt better in her own clothes.
“No need.” I smiled. “We’re not going shopping.”
She’d put on a red skirt. It was long, hitting past her knees, and it showed off her thin stature that still managed to be curvy. Her daughter was just a little bit taller than she was. They were really beautiful. “Good genes in your family.”
They both beamed at this. Renee had also matched the red skirt with a black turtleneck T-shirt. She’d tucked that in. I could see the problem immediately.
We’d gathered a crowd. Everyone but Zeke had crowded around to see what I was doing. They spoke to each other like they were a crowd that all knew each other. Or at least that was how it seemed. Was this a regular stop for everyone in here?
“Is it okay if I touch you?”
Renee gave a little shrug. The kind a person gave when they had no idea if what the other person said to them was insane. I must truly seem that way.
I took it as a yes. I was already into this craziness, I needed to do a good job. But it would be easy with Renee. She just needed the slightest adjustment. I pulled her shirt out, letting it hang loose. The way the skirt hit her did nothing for her slim waist, it was more like a hip hugger. Very pretty, but probably just the reason she didn’t feel quite right at the moment. But I understood what she was trying to do which was show off the waist to begin with, only that wasn’t going to happen unless we adjusted her slightly.
I looked at her daughter. “Do you need that coat?”
“No.” She smiled and took it off, handing it to me, which I quickly put on Renee. It was faux leather and lightweight. She’d probably be a little hot in it, but if the walk turned into lunch and Renee was feeling all kinds of more comfortable, she could take it off then. I stepped back to look at the whole presentation. Something was missing. It was always about the small details. Maybe it was just me, but I really felt like it was the small details that made all the difference with the outfit.
I spun around and looked at the women behind me. “Do you know each other?”
“Why, yes,” the blonde, taller woman answered. “We are very close friends.”
“On weekends, we are all here,” Danette supplied.
The blonde, whose name I should learn and would in a minute, wore a beautiful piece of costume jewelry. I had a pretty good eye for telling what was real and what wasn’t. And sometimes I preferred the look of the so-called cheap stuff better. Hers was a long black chain with a gold medallion on the bottom. She’d matched that with a gold webbed bracelet.
“Can I borrow your jewelry?”
Her eyes widened. “You like them?”
“Yes, they’re beautiful, but what’s more, they’ll look great on Renee. Is it okay?”
She quickly handed them to me, and I turned them over to Renee. “Go look at yourself.”
The woman smiled at me, the biggest one she’d given me as of yet, and she hadn’t even seen herself yet. It was as much the process of anything. I smiled at Danette. “Your mom is gorgeous.”
She outright squealed, and I took a step back. “You’re Layla, the redhead. Did you really leave your fiancé for Zeke like they’re saying?”
“I did.” The lie tasted bitter, but I’d agreed to this. “We’re together.”
“He is so handsome. I wished my mother might date him, but she said she isn’t his type. And he only dates four days. Then it’s all over. And we like this café too much.”
Some of her English had gotten a little mixed up, but I understood her completely. Well, I didn’t know how long Zeke and I would stay together. I supposed that was up to my father and how he behaved toward the whole thing.
I took Danette’s hand. “Thanks for letting me fix up your mom. She’s going to feel great now.”
Sure enough, Renee emerged from the bathroom with a grin on her face. There was actual applause all around her for that grin, and soon, everyone had started speaking French again. I smiled at Renee and made my way back to my table.
He lifted his lids but didn’t say anything else to me. If he had even a thought about the few minutes I’d been away from the table, he wasn’t going to share them. I took a long sip of my coffee as people swarmed here and there before either sitting back down or leaving.
The gorgeous blonde who had loaned Renee her necklace came by. She stared at me for a long second before turning to Zeke and saying something to him in French. I expected him to tell her to speak English, but he didn’t do that. Instead, he ended up narrowing his eyes and saying something short that sounded almost curt.
She finally spoke to me, speaking in a way I could understand. “You are young and charming. That was a very nice thing that you did for a very nice person who deserves it, and you couldn’t even know that. The young people tell me you are famous for that sort of thing, for your beauty.”
My cheeks were red. She was complimenting me but not at the same time. I didn’t know who she was, but I’d be surprised if she weren’t successful at something I should know about. She wanted me to be impressed with her, too. “You were the one with the beautiful jewelry and the generous spirit to help her. Thank you for doing that. It was really nice of you. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”
Her smile wasn’t kind. “My name is Isobel. And Zeke and I are long-term friends.”
The way she said that made sense now. It wasn’t me she didn’t like. It was that I was sitting with Zeke. They’d slept together, I didn’t know who she was, she thought I should, and this was going to be a giant mess.
“I think you must be late now, right?” Zeke’s tone dripped with annoyance. “And let me finish breakfast with my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Isobel threw her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, how charming. Be careful, little redhead. He moves through us like he might tissue paper. See you all next weekend.”
He sat back in his seat while Danette and Renee rushed by to thank me on their way out the door. Such a whirlwind of things happening. Isobel was gone, and I was glad for it. I buttered my croissant and ignored the pain in my stomach while I did. I’d had half a dozen conversations with this man over the last twenty-four hours. I had no business whatsoever caring who Zeke did or didn’t sleep with, or how many days he usually let that last.
The croissant tasted delicious. He was right. I needed energy. I’d focus on that. I chewed and swallowed. Once, then again.
“What you just did, that was a really nice thing.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you do that a lot? Tell people what they should wear?”
I sighed. “I didn’t tell her what to wear. She picked out her clothes. I just fixed her in them. I’m not a stylist. I didn’t purchase her clothing, I didn’t dress her in them. I made her feel better in what she’d done.”
“And people need that? To feel better in their own choices?”
“Sometimes.” Maybe he never did, and so he’d never understand it.
“I don’t know about women’s clothing. You untucked her shirt, you accessorized her. It was like a transformation from one version of her on the inside to the next, like she lit up. She spends every Thursday night volunteering in shelters with the homeless. Her daughter is really kind. And they both got fucked over by a man who moved on and moved away.” He sipped his own coffee. “Love and marriage. Who needs that kind of pain? In any case, you made her day. A complete stranger, so I’m more concerned with what that means about you. I haven’t seen anyone do something like that…maybe ever.”
He was making more of this than it had
to be. “Like you said, I untucked her shirt. I didn’t find a way to cure the common cold. I’m done. I’m full. What are we doing now?”
“We’re going to get you some clothes. You can’t actually be done.”
“Don’t push it.” I glared at him. “I don’t want any more.”
He twitched his mouth like he might smile but didn’t. “Okay. We’ll move on. Get you some clothes.”
“Are the stores open on Sunday? And I can afford this?” He still hadn’t told me what money I had.
“You need clothes while you’re here to do what I need you to do, so I’m going to pay for that. Don’t argue. It’s not charity. And no, you don’t have a lot of money in your account. You have no debt. He paid off your credit card before he took it away, which didn’t have much on it anyway. You are remarkably thrifty, considering things. Either that, or Kit was paying for everything. In any case, that is done.” He set down his coffee cup. “And something is fishy. That book was a hit. Look at this room. You should have a lot more money than you do. I think he stole from you when he emptied your account. I’ll prove it. And in the meantime, open you a new account, get you set up with a new future he can’t touch, and tell your father he can’t fuck with your life anymore.”
Sounded like a plan. I hoped he could do all of that fast because there was no way what I’d just done hadn’t been photographed. Someone had held up their phone and snapped a picture. I could almost guarantee it. I could always feel when I had eyes and camera lenses trained on me. It was like ants crawled on the back of my neck. I’d learned to ignore it. Being stared at was part of my life.
But I’d felt it in the café. My father might very well know I was dating Zeke the second he opened his eyes back in the United States five hours from now. This could all be over very, very soon. And I was sure Zeke would keep his word and help me. Still, it was a tall order, all the things he promised, and in my experience, men didn’t want much to do with me after they’d gotten what they wanted.
Redhead On The Run (RedHeads Book 1) Page 10
