by Chloe Emile
She was still wobbling a little as they walked to the bar. He didn't know how women could walk in high heels. It must be a challenge. He put his arm around her shoulders to help her balance. At least that wasn't weird. Her skin was soft, but she was starting to get goose bumps as the temperature dropped in the evening.
He took off his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders.
"Thanks." She smiled up at him. The sun shone behind her like a glowing golden aura.
They went into Pêche 22, a cocktail bar with more than a hundred different kinds of cocktails on the menu.
A waiter showed them to their seats at a round table with a gold stencil of a lace pattern on the surface. The bar was dim, more romantic than Luc remembered. There were couples holding hands all over the place.
It wasn't a bad thing. The waiter came by with a lit candle and placed it in the center of the table.
"Certainly sets the mood," Luc remarked to Mia. Then he wished he hadn't. It was an awkward thing to say. He suddenly felt like his old, gawky teenage self, at a loss for words with a girl he liked.
Mia didn't seem to notice any awkwardness between them. She looked through the expansive list of cocktails and exhaled in amazement. "The options are endless. You've got the Bloody Mary, the Bloody Maurice, the Bloody Henry—everybody in this family is bloody."
Luc chuckled. "I don't know about you, but I think I'm actually going to have some wine."
"That sounds good, as long as the only choice is between red and white."
"Red," Luc and Mia said at the same time, then laughed together.
"I'll tell the waiter," Luc said.
At Luc's request, their waiter, a serious young man with gaunt cheeks and dark eyebrows meeting at a thin point in the middle, came back and poured them the most expensive bottle of red on the menu. Mia deserved it, although since she still didn't speak French all that well, she didn't know how much the bottle cost.
Mia took a sip first.
"What do you think?" Luc asked.
Mia shrugged. "It's good. I mean, it tastes like wine. Why? Are you a wine connoisseur?"
"I wouldn't say that."
"You'd seem the type to know a lot about wine, and you'd be disappointed to know that I don't know anything about it."
"Well, wine is ultimately grape juice," Luc said, amused. "Have you ever been to a wine tasting?"
"No, have you?"
"Yes. It's pretty funny. Everybody's smelling and swirling, and spitting—”
"Spitting?"
"Oh yeah. Into a little bucket. It's so that they don't get too drunk."
She shook her head. "But that's the whole point of drinking wine."
Luc laughed. He found Mia to be utterly unpretentious and refreshing. He raised his glass.
"You said it. Let's toast to a successful campaign."
"Congratulations," Mia said, "for landing the contract. Were you nervous, too?"
"I was. Those board members are a hard bunch to please."
"Yes, it was intimidating. Everyone's so fancy. I thought I was visiting the queen."
"Yeah, well, most of them grew up wealthy," Luc said. "Beth does come from an aristocratic family. The Montaignes even have a family crest."
"A family crest?" Mia said incredulously. "And here I am, a girl from Seattle who doesn't even know who my parents are."
"Maybe you can create your own family crest," Luc joked.
"Hmm, what would I put on it?" Mia got into the game. "Maybe my spirit animal, the penguin."
"The penguin?"
"They're cute. Oh, and a laptop, since I'm always on it for work. I like symbols of peace, like doves or olives, but maybe that's too cliché."
"I would use something tough and manly," Luc said. "Like a weight set, or a monster truck. Because that's what I am, a manly man."
Mia laughed out loud. "Right. I can tell."
"Anyway, I don't think you should've let those guys make you feel inferior."
"No way," Mia said. "I didn't. Eleanor Roosevelt once said, 'No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.’"
"You're right. You probably made them feel inferior."
She giggled as she sipped her wine. "I doubt that."
He picked up his own glass again. "For all their wealth and upper-class sophistication, they're no match for a girl from Seattle. At least not a girl from Seattle like you. So tell me about your family. I'm curious."
"Nothing out of the ordinary. My adoptive parents couldn't have children, so they decided to adopt. I was the only child. Childhood is only interesting to others when there are horror tales to tell, but I have none. My parents loved me. They'd take me to Disneyland every year. I never doubted for a moment they loved me and would've loved me no less had I been their child by birth. This is why I feel so guilty that I'm on this search."
"Have you ever talked to them about your birth parents?"
"Yes. They were very open with me. Unfortunately, it was a closed adoption, and they told me all they knew, which isn't much. We started these kinds of discussions when I was about twelve, when I became more and more curious about my background."
"How did you do in school?" Luc asked. "You seem like you'd be a good student."
"I was a good student. Is it that obvious? I was one of those rare kids who actually enjoyed school. My parents believe in education. I always enjoyed English class and writing on my own, so naturally I went on to journalism. I also liked history and became something of a history buff."
"I could've guessed from the Eleanor Roosevelt quote."
Mia laughed. "I can give you quotes galore. The thing about being educated, and, well, colored, is that you draw criticism sometimes. Not from white students so much, but from black students."
"Really?" Luc leaned in.
"Yes. I remember a couple of black students being pretty rude and resentful; they would accuse me of acting white. The funny thing is that they probably didn't know much about the history of black people in America. For example, after the Civil War, slaves were passionate about getting an education. Many of them could not read, and many slaves had to learn how to read secretly. If they were caught, there were severe penalties. Most of them, if not all, wanted the education so they could read the Bible. Many had become religious even as slaves, and they saw the travails as another type of Exodus. Historian Eugene Genovese stated this in his books and—”
She slapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm talking too much. I'm sorry."
"No, it's all right. I always enjoyed history myself. Keep going."
"I've been talking about myself a lot. Tell me about you. What was your childhood like?"
"Oh, chaotic. Very chaotic. There's seven of us in total."
"You have six siblings?"
Luc nodded. "Four brothers and two sisters. I'm the second oldest. Alain is the oldest, but he's an anthropologist, and he's always off in Africa or some exotic location or other. Then there's Mathieu, who you sort of know."
"The rock star. Of course."
"He's the wild and loud one in the family, along with his twin sister Marianne. They're both firecrackers. Marianne also has the creative gene. She's a filmmaker."
"Really?" Mia exclaimed. "French films?"
"Yes. She just got funding to make her first feature, so she's really busy. Actually, most of my family are quite busy. Philippe, the third youngest, is a chef. Xavier is twenty-five. He's a boxer, or trying to be. The youngest is my sister Audrey. The baby of the family."
"You mean, she's actually a baby?"
Luc laughed. "No. She's twenty-two and still a student. She's studying art history."
"It sounds like your family is quite eclectic."
"We all have different interests. That's because my parents are quite different. My dad's the no-nonsense business type, and Mom's a free-spirited painter. Opposites attract. My childhood was loud. Really loud. It was like a circus, almost.”
"You didn't live in Paris, did you? The apartmen
ts here are not big enough for big families."
"You'd be surprised. There are massive apartments, but you have to be a millionaire. We don't have an apartment. We're lucky enough to have grown up in a house in Montmartre. It's not too far from where you live now. It's cozy, and my parents are still there, along with my sister Audrey. We visit every Sunday, though, if we're all in town."
"Growing up in a large family sounds wonderful," Mia said wistfully.
"There's never a dull moment," Luc agreed, "but at some point, when I was about sixteen, I contemplated becoming a monk in a monastery where everyone had to take a vow of silence."
"Really?"
"Well, not seriously, but I did think about buying a small cabin in the middle of the woods somewhere."
Mia laughed. "How did you get into advertising?"
“Believe it or not, I almost went into astronomy."
"That's totally different."
He nodded. "It is. To get some peace and quiet as a teen, I would go for walks, sometimes at night. You can't always see the stars in Paris, but sometimes you can, when it's really late, really dark, and the sky is clear. I was fascinated by the sky. I'd read books and try to study on my own. We live in an incredibly beautiful galaxy, but at the same time, it's scary how we're just tiny specks in the universe. I still read books on astronomy, and I try to go to the observatory whenever I have the time."
"Why didn't you study astronomy?"
"I realized that I was also creative and had good business sense. Astronomy is not the most well-paying position. I figured if I got into business and advertising, I could be an amateur astronomer, but I couldn’t go into astronomy and be an amateur businessman, so I made a decision."
"I think you would've been successful either way," Mia said confidently.
"Thank you." He beamed. The wine was starting to make him feel light-headed, in a good way. He loved Mia's company. He could've talked to her for hours.
And he did.
When they polished off the bottle, it was starting to get late. He wanted to ask Mia if she wanted to eat dinner with him as well, but she made a comment that she had perhaps overdone it with the wine and wanted to go home to rest after an exhausting day. Reluctantly, he asked for the bill.
Mia reached for her wallet.
"You're crazy if you think I'm going to let you pay," Luc said.
"Why not?"
"In France, the man always pays."
"Even if we're coworkers?"
"Yes. You'd be doing us a disservice if you take that away from us."
Mia slowly put her wallet back in her purse. "I wouldn't want to do that, then. Thank you."
Luc used his credit card. He took out his cell phone and called for the car. When they walked out onto the sidewalk, Mia still wasn't doing too well in her heels. They had both had a glass too many, but perhaps Mia was more sensitive to alcohol.
Mia looked up at the sky.
"The stars," she said. "I see them."
Luc looked up. It was impossible to see stars in the downtown core, when the city was all lit up. He didn’t know what she was talking about. There were no stars in sight.
"Do you see them?" she asked.
"Well..."
"There." She pointed upward, squinting.
Then she was stumbling, falling back into Luc's arms. He held her, and she turned to look up at him with a sheepish, embarrassed expression. He looked into her beautiful eyes.
For a second they were both frozen in their embrace. He pressed his lips on hers. Her hands wrapped around his neck. He took in her sweet and mysterious fragrance. He lost himself in the kiss, and for a moment, he thought he actually did see stars.
And the ground was shaking. The kiss was a 9.8 on the romantic Richter scale.
Mia pulled back. She took a deep breath. She couldn't meet his eyes.
Then she turned from him and flagged down a cab.
"Taxi!"
The taxi stopped, and Mia quickly ran toward it. She opened the door and slid in.
"I gotta go," Mia said. "Good night, Luc. See you on Monday.”
Before he could get a word in and offer the company limo to drive her home, she closed the door. The taxi sped off.
He was confused. He thought they had both enjoyed the kiss. Had he crossed the line?
Chapter 13
On a sunny Saturday afternoon, Mia strolled through the Luxembourg Gardens in the 6th arrondissement with Kiko and Amanda. They walked past tennis courts, a children's playground, and old men playing pétanque. The vast park featured impressive statues, fountains, perfectly manicured trees, and rectangular patches of grass on which people picnicked and lounged around on blankets.
Mia thought the Luxembourg Gardens should be considered the eighth wonder of the world. The park had been created in 1612 by King Henry IV. How many wars and disasters the world had seen since 1612, yet the beauty of the gardens remained. There was a lesson there somewhere, she thought.
When the trio walked closer to the gardens of the Luxembourg Palace, they decided to take a break and sit down before the round pool, where children were sailing toy boats and guiding them with long wooden sticks.
Mia took a deep breath. She loved this place. Everything in this park was beautiful: the trees, the fresh flowers, the architecture. Everyone from children to seniors found solace here.
Mia could have spent a whole day at the Luxembourg Gardens. A museum was supposed to be around somewhere, as well as a rose garden. Tourists couldn't stop posing for photographs, but there were plenty of well-dressed locals, too, reading French novels or newspapers, enjoying their time off from work. She would definitely come back on her own and take naps on a lazy Sunday in one of the comfy-looking green lounge chairs.
Kiko was hungry, and she came back to the area where they were sitting with a fresh waffle. Amanda was in the middle of talking about her new French boyfriend.
"He's the only Frenchman in the nation who's fanatic about American baseball. He even gets the international channels so he can watch the games. It's so boring. I left America to get away from stuff like baseball."
"If I were you, I'd just go shopping when he watches baseball," Kiko said. "Baseball's big in Japan, so I know what you mean. I also had a boyfriend that was obsessed with baseball before I married my husband. Sometimes I was tempted to rip the remote from his hands."
"Did you?" Amanda asked.
Kiko sighed. "So tempting, but I always controlled myself. We did get into a big fight about it once, though. How did a French guy get addicted to American baseball?"
"He spent five years working in Washington," Amanda said. "One day, he was bored and decided to go along with a colleague to see the Washington Nationals, since he'd never been to a baseball game. He discovered he really liked it, and of course he rooted for the Nationals, game after game, because he ended up working and living there. He still has all his shirts and other paraphernalia here. He even bought a Nationals winter jacket."
Amanda looked at Mia, who had been quiet all afternoon. "Are we boring you with all this baseball talk?"
Mia looked up at them. She had been staring into space, thinking about Luc and their kiss...
"No, I'm sorry. Go on."
"Is your guy into baseball too?"
"He's not my guy," Mia said quickly.
Amanda arched an eyebrow. "Did something happen with your boss?"
Mia opened her mouth to protest, but she was bursting to tell someone.
"Last night, we both got a bit tipsy, and we kind of kissed."
"What?" Kiko grinned from ear to ear.
"That's awesome!" Amanda exclaimed.
"No. It's not." Mia explained the circumstances that had led up to the kiss. "We were both high from winning the contract, and we both had a glass of wine too many."
"Remember the old saying," Amanda said. "In vino veritas. In wine, there is truth."
Mia shook her head. "It's so embarrassing. I was the one who fell on him. I don't ev
en remember if I initiated the kiss or not. What if he thinks I'm some pathetic, sex-crazed employee with the hots for the boss? I don't even know how I'm going to show my face at work on Monday."
"Oh, come on, Mia," Kiko said. "Are you sure he didn't kiss you? He likes you and you like him. You're both single. What's the problem?"
"I don't know," Mia said. "It's just that, well, I see him with someone more like him. Someone like Beth."
"Who?"
"Beth Montaigne, the Montaigne lingerie heiress. She's the head of the new label, and I met her yesterday when we did our presentation. The brand hired a British supermodel for the campaign, and she has nothing on Beth. She's lovely, eloquent, educated, and someone I can totally see Luc with."
"Do you think Luc likes her?" Kiko asked.
"The other men couldn't stop staring at Beth. They hung on her every word. I can just see Luc with her, that's all."
"See, you're just making things difficult for yourself," Amanda said. "You're jumping to conclusions that have no facts to support them. Why would it be strange for Luc to like you instead? You're also beautiful, as well as funny and educated. Why compare yourself? Who knows, on Monday, Luc might walk up to you in the office, grab you, and give you a passionate kiss in front of all the employees."
Mia smiled. "Somehow, I doubt that. It's so awkward. I do wonder what he thinks about the whole situation. I kind of freaked out and jumped in a cab after we kissed."
"But why?" Amanda asked.
She shrugged. "My old experiences with my ex from Seattle Life came flooding back. I didn't like him nearly as much as I like Luc, but I don't want to put myself in a position where it'll be awkward."
"Where you'll get hurt, you mean." Amanda looked at her with sympathy.
"I know, I know, I'm supposed to be fearless. I'm supposed to be strong. It's the image I project, but sometimes, when you're thrown into a sensitive situation, you can't help but, well, retreat into a corner."
"You've gained your strength back now, haven't you?" Kiko asked. "Why don't you call him?"
"And say what? Sorry for getting drunk and kissing you? Anyway, he hasn't called me."
