They had a wonderful time, and he invited her for a fancy dinner at Apicius the next evening, after she foraged around the resale shops and went to an auction. She had a ball going to her favorite places, and when he picked her up at the end of the day, he was wearing a dark suit. She had put on a short black cocktail dress under a dark mink coat, and it felt more like a date than their evenings out before. They went to the restaurant in the beautiful old Rothschild home, where all the headwaiters knew him and made a big fuss over them.
“I give dinner parties here sometimes,” he explained to her. “In a private room they have. It’s an easy way to entertain as a single man.” He had almost convinced her that he was, since he lived like one. The food at Apicius was incredible, the restaurant elegant, and the service fabulous. It was one of the nicest evenings she’d ever had. And when he dropped her off at the hotel, Bernard offered to take her for a drive in the country the next day.
They drove to Deauville, in Normandy, in the morning, and walked along the boardwalk. They had lunch at a small fish restaurant he knew, and they drove back to Paris after dark and had a drink at her hotel.
“What are we doing tomorrow?” he asked her, as they relaxed at the bar. It had been a perfect day.
“You’re spoiling me,” she said, enjoying every minute of it. It was a wonderful experience sharing Paris with Bernard.
“Why don’t we have lunch at Les Cascades, and then there’s a very good art show at the Grand Palais.” She agreed to the plan, and he looked regretful when she finally left him and went upstairs to her room. She called her mother to see how she was, and Louise was delighted to hear from her, although Kate didn’t mention Bernard. It didn’t seem appropriate to report to her mother, or relevant who she was dining with in Paris. Kate told her she was in Paris to restock the shop. She described some of the auctions she’d been to, and stayed off the subject of who she was spending her evenings with. Even at her age, she didn’t want to tell her mother that she was being wined and dined by a married man. She knew her mother wouldn’t approve. Nor would she, Kate realized, if one of her children were doing the same. And she couldn’t help wondering what information her own children were withholding from her. It was a game every generation played to escape their parents’ disapproval and not cause them concern. After a few minutes, her mother told her to have fun, and they hung up.
And at noon the next day, Bernard picked her up. It was Sunday, and lunch at Les Cascades was relaxed, looking out at the gardens, and the art show at the Grand Palais afterward was fun. They left the car there and went for a long walk, and went to the hotel George V for tea, where there was a small orchestra playing, and lots of good people-watching as they sat at a table in the gallery. They never stopped talking, and Kate enjoyed Bernard’s company, more than she had expected to, and perhaps more than she should, she realized, when they retrieved his car and he took her back to the Meurice. She was about to thank him for a lovely day as they stood outside the hotel for a few minutes, when without saying anything to her, he pulled her gently into his arms and kissed her. She was startled at first, and then melted into his arms, and loved it, and then she gently pulled away.
“Should we be doing that?” she asked him softly. She was suddenly torn between thinking of him as married or single. With his status in limbo, according to French tradition, it was confusing.
“Why wouldn’t we?” he answered and kissed her again. “I’m a free man in all the ways that matter,” he reminded her and he seemed so sincere that she kissed him, and then they walked slowly into the hotel. He didn’t ask to come upstairs, but she sensed that he would have liked to. Doing so would have been more than she could handle for now. She needed time to absorb what was happening and what it meant, if anything. Maybe he was just an inveterate flirt and woman chaser, and if so, he was good at it, because he seemed so earnest and caring, and so interested in her. He kissed her one last time before she got in the elevator, and he called her that night when she was relaxing in her room.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, and she smiled. She was thinking about him too, and trying not to. She wasn’t sure she wanted a romance, particularly with a married man she was doing business with. That was confusing too, but he was so appealing and so much fun. And no one had ever been as attentive to her as he was. American men were different, and Frenchmen were so adept at the art of courtship and seduction that it was hard to resist, whatever his status.
He had to work the next day, and she had things to do for the store, and there was the online store to buy for now too. He didn’t invite her to dinner that night, but he showed up at her hotel and asked her to come down to the lobby for a drink. It was ten o’clock at night, and he said he had been in meetings until then, with some Chinese businessmen he was cultivating. She hesitated because of the hour, and he finally convinced her to come down in jeans and a sweater with her hair loose, while he told her about his meetings, and they drank champagne at the bar. No man had wooed her as ardently in years, if ever. And she was beginning to look forward to seeing him at the end of every day.
He came up with new plans for them every night, went to an auction with her once, and was impressed by how adept she was at bidding, and what she bought. She had a great eye for fashion. They even went to the movies one night. He seemed to have nothing to do with his nights except spend them with her. More and more, she was realizing that he was as free as he said, and it made her feel more comfortable with him. She didn’t care as much that he was married legally as long as she wasn’t poaching on someone else’s turf, and clearly she wasn’t, if he was never with his wife, and always with her.
He said he wanted to introduce her to his children, but they were having too much fun alone. And on her last weekend in Paris, they drove to Versailles and walked around, and then had dinner at a little bistro on the way home. She still had two more days, and it had been a magical trip for her thanks to Bernard, who had entertained her every night, spent the weekend with her, took her to exhibits, and saw to it that she had a wonderful time for the two weeks she was in Paris.
“I’m going to be very sad when you leave,” he said wistfully, as they drove back to the Meurice after their day at Versailles.
“So am I,” she said honestly. “I’ve always loved Paris, but it’s never been like this before, thanks to you,” she said, looking gratefully at him as he drove. She had grown completely comfortable with him, and it was going to be strange when she left, not to see him every night. “I’ve been totally spoiled.”
“You deserve it,” he said warmly. “It’s going to be lonely here without you.” He was going to New York in March, which wasn’t far away. They pulled up in front of the hotel, and the doorman recognized them both, they were a familiar sight. Bernard left the car with him and walked slowly into the hotel with her, lost in thought. She had her hand tucked into his arm, and he leaned closer to her to ask the question he had wanted to ask her for two weeks but hadn’t dared. He didn’t want to scare her off. “May I come upstairs?” he whispered. She hesitated for a long moment as she looked into his eyes. She hadn’t planned to do that, and had promised herself not to, for all the obvious reasons, the uncertainty of his “arrangement” with his wife, but what she saw in his eyes melted her resolve and she nodded, and a moment later he followed her into the elevator without a word. He walked down the hall with her, and she unlocked the door to her room and stepped inside, and he swept her instantly into his arms and held her with the force of his desire that had been building since he met her and for the past two weeks. He couldn’t stop himself anymore, and in less than a minute they were on her bed with their clothes off, overwhelmed with passion like two people half their age.
He was like a tidal wave that overtook her and swept her along with the force of everything he felt for her. They were both breathless when they stopped and he looked at her and smiled.
“Oh my God, I’m so in love with you, Kate. What have you done to me? I fee
l eighteen years old.” He made love like it, and she was just as enamored with him. “What are we going to do?” he asked, as he rolled over on his back with a broad grin, and she was smiling too. “You can’t move to Paris, you have a business to run. And I can’t move to New York. How am I going to live without seeing you every day?” He looked genuinely bereft at the thought.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said as she rolled onto her side and kissed him again. And she suspected that not being together all the time would make the time they did share even more exciting, which wasn’t entirely a bad thing. He was more possessive than she was and wanted her at his side constantly. They were together every minute while she was there. For now, it was enough. And if things became serious between them, they could discuss the rest. She had no complaints, and no demands to make.
He slept at the hotel with her that night, which made it all even better and seem more real. They had breakfast together in her room in the morning, and then he left for his day, after kissing her and promising to make plans with her that night. She had two more nights left in Paris, and they were going to spend them together, and enjoy each other until she left, and then they had to go back to their own lives until they met again in March.
He took her to one of his favorite bistros that night on the Left Bank, and then they walked along the river and wound up in front of Notre Dame under a full moon. It was an idyllic scene that she knew she would never forget, and then they went back to the hotel and he spent the night with her again. And on her last night, they had room service and had a quiet evening, talking about her business and their plans.
Bernard drove Kate to the airport on the morning she left. He felt terrible that he couldn’t stay with her until her flight, but he had an early meeting. He kissed her tenderly before he left her, after she had checked in her bags, and then she watched the Aston Martin disappear onto the highway, as he waved at her. It had been exactly what Paris should be, and the most perfect two weeks of her life.
She was smiling, thinking about him as she boarded the plane two hours later, and he sent her a text from his meeting. “A bientôt. Je t’aime.” See you soon, I love you. It was all she needed to know.
Chapter 11
It was hard for Kate to get back to her usual routine when she came back from Paris. She was floating on a cloud. Every day had been perfect, every night had been fun and exciting with Bernard. She felt like a woman again. And he sent her three dozen red roses when she got home.
She caught up at her desk on the first day, and he sent her several texts. He said he didn’t want to interrupt her if she was working, so didn’t call. And Kate had dinner with her mother that night. Louise was in good spirits, busy as usual, and asked Kate about her trip to Paris. Although she thought about it, she still didn’t tell her mother about Bernard. She was sure she wouldn’t understand the “arrangement” he had with his wife. After two weeks in Paris, it had appeared to be everything he had originally said. He had total freedom to lead his own life. It was almost as though his wife and marriage didn’t exist. But she knew her mother would worry that Kate would get hurt. Kate realized she would have been concerned if one of her daughters fell in love with a married man. It was precisely the kind of high-risk situation she wouldn’t have wanted for them. But, she told herself, she was an adult, and he had been totally honest with her. The amount of time he spent with her clearly indicated that he was as free as he said.
She checked in with Izzie the day after, and all she wanted to do was talk about the wedding. She had ordered the invitations, and met with the florist at the house on Washington Square Park, and she had found a judge to perform the ceremony. The wedding was two months away, and hearing Izzie talk about it made it a reality, which still upset Kate. Izzie was moving full speed ahead, heading off a cliff as far as Kate was concerned. She could easily imagine her daughter in the spectacular antique wedding gown, marrying the wrong man. And she was torn between wanting to scream and forbid her to do it, and going along with it because she felt she had no other choice. She was being carried along on the tides of maternal devotion, but she knew they would be going over a waterfall in dangerous currents, and plunging to the depths below. It was an alarming thought, and she steeped herself in work in order not to think about it. And she had a lot to do before the launch of the new online business. Bernard’s company was making sure that they got press to bring attention to it. And Julie offered to come in and help her organize the clothes to photograph.
They worked together all weekend, getting everything ready. They had fifty pieces that mother and daughter agreed would be showstoppers and sell quickly. She had a range of prices on the items they would be displaying on their website, and Kate was thrilled when she saw the photographs. And on Monday she asked Julie to join her at an event she had accepted at the Metropolitan Museum and had forgotten about.
“I have nothing to wear, Mom,” Julie said plaintively, and her mother laughed.
“You have closets full of your own designs, and I have a store full of anything you could want. What do you want to wear? A little black dress?” She had them from at least two dozen designers, and could have outfitted an entire village in chic black dresses.
“That’s so boring. Do you have anything red?”
“I’ll look,” Kate promised, and found three dresses she thought Julie would like. She had Jessica take pictures of them and send them to Julie on her phone. She had found a sexy Hervé Léger, a striking Dior, and a nameless brand that Kate had liked when she bought it.
Julie called back an hour later, still trying to get out of going to the event. “Do I really have to go?”
“Yes, you never go anywhere and I don’t want to go alone.”
“Why can’t you take Willie? He loves to go out.”
“He would hate the event at the Met, and I’ll look like a child molester if people don’t know he’s my son.” She had talked to him that morning, and he said he was fine. She saw less of him than her daughters, because he was always busy, and had an active dating life, and no time for his mother. But she expected that from him at his age. At twenty-four, no man wanted to hang around with his mother, and Willie was no exception. “Did you like any of the dresses?” Kate asked her as she ate a yogurt at her desk. It was all that she had time for.
“The Hervé Léger doesn’t look too bad.”
“Thanks a lot, I’m selling it for two thousand dollars and it’s never been worn. It was nearly five when the woman bought it, but it’s so small it won’t fit anyone but you.” You had to have a wraithlike figure to wear it, and Julie did. Kate thought the dress would look incredible on her. “Do you want me to send it over to your office so you can try it?” The design firm where she worked wasn’t too far away, and Jessica could take it to Julie in a cab.
“Maybe,” Julie said, still hoping to get out of the event, but her mother wasn’t letting her off the hook. She wanted Julie to get out more, and there would be a mixed crowd at the Met, many of them her age.
“I’ll have it to you in half an hour.” She put Jessica in a taxi with it a few minutes later, and called Julie two hours after that. “How was it?”
“I have to admit, it’s pretty cool.” She laughed as she said it. “You have an eye.”
“That’s a compliment coming from you.” Her daughter was a talented designer, and had great taste. And Kate had suspected the dress would be smashing on her. “I’ll pick you up at your place at seven-thirty.” The event started at eight and it would take them time to get uptown in evening traffic.
And for the rest of the day, Kate didn’t stop. Their new expanded website was launching in two weeks, and she had to go over the final details.
Liam called her that afternoon and complained that she hadn’t called him since she got back from Paris. She felt guilty about it, but she’d been avoiding him. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to tell him about getting involved with Bernard. She knew he wouldn’t approve of her dating
a married man. Liam had very rigid ideas about people cheating, and he never had. And French “arrangements” were not something he would find charming. Kate didn’t want to have to explain, so she just said she had had a great time in Paris, and bought some wonderful things for the store. He said he had been busy too, and inquired about the wedding.
“Is she still going ahead?” He was hoping for Kate’s sake, and her own, that Izzie would come to her senses, but Kate knew he was dreaming about that.
“Full steam, from what I can tell. I’m taking Julie to an event at the Met with me tonight. It’ll do her good to dress up and meet some new people for a change.” Liam always admired the time Kate spent with her children, and how connected she was to them all, whether she saw them or not. She called each of them every few days, no matter how old they were now. Her own mother was far more nonchalant, and always had been. Although she loved Kate and her grandchildren too, she called them all less often.
Kate promised to have lunch with Liam when things slowed down a little, and then rushed home to dress. She was going to wear a black velvet Dior evening suit that she had been saving for a special event, and with press expected to be there that night, this was it. With her new website about to launch, she wanted to make an elegant splash in the press. She was a discreet presence on the fringe of the fashion scene, but people knew who she was.
When Kate picked her up, Julie emerged from her building on the Bowery in the red dress. Her figure looked amazing. She was wearing a black fox jacket Kate had given her for Christmas five years before, with a splash of red lipstick, her jet-black hair pulled tightly into a bun at the nape of her neck, and staggeringly high heels that were perfection with the dress. Kate beamed as soon as she saw her.
“Wow! You are a knockout!” her mother told her proudly.
Against All Odds Page 13
