by Vicky Dean
“University of San Francisco,” he said.
“I remember that you wanted to be an architect way back then, and that’s what you did. That’s great, but it seems like you are building more than designing.”
“True, right now, I am. Most of the designing takes place during the winter months,” Richard said.
“There’s a slow season in California?” Cassie asked.
“Of course, every area has a slow season, doesn’t it?”
“Well, New York never has a slow season for the hotel industry, so I’m not certain.”
“That crazy, huh?”
“It is.”
“And you find it rewarding?” he asked.
Cassie smiled and set her fork down. “So rewarding. I love the people and making others feel welcomed, plus working with upscale boutique hotels, you get to infuse a bit of history, art, and other interesting things into work. It’s a great way to make a living, for me.”
“What about the long hours, nights, holidays, things like that?” Richard asked.
“Well, they’re not always ideal, but I have nothing else to do…” She stopped talking, instantly embarrassed with her confession. How pathetic.
“So, no boyfriends you had to dump?”
“Um, no.”
“When was the last time you had one?” Richard asked.
“Why do you care?”
“Well, if we went on one of those newlywed game shows, they’d expect us to know,” he countered.
“Now that would be something, wouldn’t it? For the record, I haven’t had a serious boyfriend for about three years, and even that one wasn’t all that serious, truth be told.”
“Not into dating, either?”
“It just always gets shoved to the back for my career and everything else. Plus, I’m a married woman now, I can’t date. In fact, I didn’t even need to go on a date to land him, either,” she said playfully.
“Oh, is he a mail order husband?”
“Just someone a nice old man picked out for me,” Cassie said, laughing.
The waiter came up and was looking at the two of them. His expression was so confused. After he asked if they needed anything, the two just started laughing again.
“This is so fun,” Cassie said.
“I’m having a great time, too,” Richard agreed.
“Can I ask you a more serious question?” Cassie asked.
“Sure,” he said, leaning forward a bit and his brow going into a slight frown.
“Why are you such a confirmed bachelor? Always been that way?”
“No, I was engaged for a few years while in college. It didn’t work out.”
Cassie saw a dark look spread across his face and decided not to say anything in response, figuring he would say more if he wanted to.
After a few moments of silence he continued. “I really fell for Jennifer. She was my first and only serious girlfriend and I presumed she felt the same way about me, too. We were together for over a year and she became pregnant. I was ecstatic.”
He paused and took another sip of his wine and met Cassie’s eyes. She saw something dark and raw there. She waited on baited breath for him to continue.
“Two weeks before the wedding she broke up with me and said she’d miscarried the baby. I was shattered. I never saw it coming. I thought I was going to have a family again.”
“Perhaps she was too distraught at losing the baby,” Cassie suggested.
Richard smiled bitterly and a muscle in his jaw twitched.
“No, she said it was because she didn’t love me. Found out a year later that she’d had an abortion and had being seeing someone else; a rich oil baron from Dallas. So I just threw myself into work.”
Cassie could see why he would be opposed to relationships. That was such a painful story. Her heart ached for him and she longed to take away the pain he still carried about it. “So that’s why you don’t want to get too serious with anyone.”
“In my experience, love only ever leads to pain and loss. I’ve lost too many people that I’ve loved.”
Cassie thought about Richard’s family. They’d been such a loving, happy family when Cassie had known them. It was tragic that they’d all lost their lives much too young. They’d all been out shopping in Santa Maria on Christmas Eve and as they were on their way home, a drunk driver had veered head on into them at a criminally high speed. They were all killed instantly. Richard had been at home in bed with the flu at the time; otherwise he would have been killed, as well.
“That’s enough about me. How about you? Are you as screwed up as much as me romantically?” He said in a teasing tone to lighten the sadness that had descended on them both.
“Well, the last serious relationship I had ended in a tragedy. His name was Marcus and we were in college together, but he died suddenly from a heart arrhythmia that no one realized he had, kind of like a heart attack, I guess. It was really tough and like you, it made me a bit scared of anything serious, although I definitely don’t have a playgirl reputation.”
“Yeah, my reputation has kind of been built up, but larger than what it really is. It’s only a fraction of the truth.”
“Why do you let people talk that way then?” Cassie asked.
“Well, I guess it really doesn’t matter. I know the truth, that’s what matters to me,” Richard said.
With dinner over, they wandered down to the banks of the Seine to join their evening cruise. As they glided past the famous spot lighted landmarks Cassie could see why it was known as the City of Lights.
Turning to Richard, she remarked, “It’s so romantic, it would be a perfect place to come on a honeymoon.” Realizing what she’d just said, she blushed, feeling so silly.
Richard smiled and laughed. “Maybe, one day you will come here on a proper honeymoon,” he said. “You deserve that, for certain.”
Even though she’d said it, Cassie couldn’t imagine anyone she’d rather be here with than Richard at that moment. She was drawn to him; the way he moved, the way he looked, and his personality—they were all captivating to her. How crazy to think she was married to a man who seemed to be what she longed for in a man, but it wasn’t meant to be. Her tall, dark drop dead gorgeous stranger would walk out of her life one day, and she already knew it.
The cruise was nice, but a bit quiet. With the slight chill in the air, Richard had his arm around Cassie and his warmth was an amazing feeling…too amazing. She had to be careful.
Finally, it was time for Moulin Rouge, which was what Cassie was most excited for; especially when she discovered that it was a lively show that was similar to the movie. Instantly, she forgot all about what was troubling her heart. She kept glancing at Richard, who smiled, but didn’t seem to love it in the same way she did. Was he lost in thought, or was he just not that into Moulin Rouge?
Finally, the show concluded with the girls dressed in ruffled petticoats of blue, white and red the colors of the French flag performing the can-can with the girls’ legs progressively kicking higher and higher. They were close enough to the stage that it felt like the skirts swished right over their heads, filling the air with so much energy that Cassie couldn’t help but shout out, “Vive la France!” with the rest of the audience as the show drew to an end.
“That was so much fun. They definitely don’t have anything like that, even in New York City,” Cassie said, looking at Richard.
He was looking at her and she froze. His eyes clearly showed that he wanted to kiss her and his lips were puckered ever so slightly; his intense brown eyes sparkling. Please do it, she thought.
TAKING IT ALL IN
They rose early the following morning, eager for fun despite the jet lag and the night before being quite long. Cassie was starving, she realized the second they entered the hotel’s courtyard, where a breakfast was being served.
“How do you look so well rested?” Richard asked. “I’m a bit tired, right now.”
“Well, after I wound down from the cabar
et, which was such a blast, I just drifted off to sleep,” she said.
“It was fun, but I’m really excited for today,” he said looking at his watch. “The tour bus will be here to pick us up in thirty minutes.”
“Great, another exciting day in gay Paree,” she said smiling happily at him. “I’ll just finish my café au lait and then I have to run up and get my bag. Meet you back down here in twenty.”
***
With Cassie gone, Richard reflected on how relieved he was to be spending the day with a group of other tourists and not just Cassie. His growing attraction to her and the enjoyment of her company were beginning to concern him. He had barely slept a wink, tossing and turning, thinking of her laying in her bed just a few strides away from him. The thought of her long limbed body lying under his excited him in a way that a woman hadn’t for years. He liked Cassie, she was a childhood friend who he had no wish to hurt with a casual fling, especially when she was doing him such a great service by carrying out his grandfather’s wishes. She was the kind of person who deserved commitment, not an emotional wreck like himself who would never take the risk of a failed relationship, again.
“Can I get you anything else, sir?” the waiter asked Richard.
“No, I’m set,” he said, snapping out of his dangerous thought of Cassie, the one that had her naked in his arms. He signed the bill and waited for Cassie to return.
The tour bus was a fourteen seater minibus. Richard and Cassie joined three other couples that were already on it; an older couple and two younger couples. At the next stop, four Dutch men got on. They looked to be about Richard’s age and the look on their faces showed that they appreciated his wife a bit too much. She smiled at all of them, friendly as could be and seemingly clueless. The woman really had no idea how lovely she was, which was as appealing as it was dangerous.
He put his hand on her leg and squeezed it softly, causing her to look at him curiously. “This is going to be great, isn’t it?” he said.
“Yeah,” she said, smiling at him oddly and then getting back to some information the tour bus host had handed them.
The tour bus took them around all the main monuments of Paris: Notre Dame, Louvre, Place Vendôme, Opera, Concorde, Champs-Élysées, Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, and Trocadéro. This was followed by a cheese and wine tasting in Montmartre and then a group lunch at a popular Montmartre restaurant. During the lunch, Richard was further irritated by the Dutch guy’s constant flirtatious behavior towards Cassie.
“So beautiful, probably the most beautiful American girl ever,” one guy said.
“That’s sweet, but I hardly think so,” she replied. Then she tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at him, their eyes meeting for a second.
Those corn flower blue eyes are mine, Richard thought. But what he found even more annoying was that she seemed to find the Dutch men’s flirtatious banter amusing, if not enjoyable. If she acted that way in Avalon Bay, they’d talk about it. He tried to convince himself that his concern was over their business arrangement, but he couldn’t bluff himself. He wanted her full attention—period.
He’d had enough. “Lunch is over, let’s get going,” Richard said roughly.
“Okay, you okay?” Cassie asked, looking at him with a big smile, but it quickly faded.
“Fine, just wish people would enjoy the sights of Paris more than…” He stopped talking.
“Okay,” she said.
He grew quiet and she started talking again, mostly to the Dutch guys. Why not the old couple?
Finally, a jealous beast erupted just enough that he asked a question he probably shouldn’t have. “Cassie, are you no longer interested in this tour?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m loving it,” she said and smiled at him happily. “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, but we’re in the area of that fabric shop that Melisa told us about; perhaps we should check that out, go off on our own. We’re not here for that long.”
“But you paid for the tour,” Cassie said. She was very aware of how she spent her money and wasting the type of money that the tour cost seemed too frivolous.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll buy a map, I’ve got the address.”
“Well, if you want,” Cassie said. Richard had no problems showing that was exactly what he wanted. He walked quicker, catching up to the guide, and telling him that they were going to branch off for the rest of the day.
Map in hand they set off to find the fabric shop on the Rue Charles Nodier at the base of the stairs to the Sacré Coeur. It was a massive fabric store on five levels which seemed to carry every type of fabric imaginable. On each floor there was an entire office for cutting and ordering.
“This is a store worth knowing about, that’s for sure,” said Richard who was happier now that he had succeeded in getting Cassie away from the Dutch men and looking in awe at the rolls and rolls of different fabrics.
“I never thought you’d be this into fabric,” Cassie commented. “It’s nice.”
“And necessary with the architect part of what I do. Have to be able to envision something as a whole, not just a building.”
“Makes sense,” Cassie said as she felt the different charming striped French linens along the walls. She reached out for the price tag of one of them that she really liked. “And check the prices; think what this would cost back home!”
“They have a website, maybe they deliver abroad.”
“Maybe we can get some samples,” Cassie said, clapping her hands together.
Richard looked at her enthusiasm and recognized the type of smile she was wearing; she was thinking about the hotel. She always looked that way when she did, two dimples slightly showing on her cheeks and her eyes widening just a bit, her lashes fluttering.
An hour later, they left the store with a large bag full of samples.
Cassie looked at Richard. “What’s next?”
“Still want to see Sacré Coeur?”
“Absolutely, this large bag can’t stop me,” she teased, holding it up and flexing her arm with it in her hand.
He laughed. “Well, if my lady feels she’s in distress, I can certainly carry it, too.”
***
The stairs up to the monument were steep and lined by deciduous trees and pretty lamp-posts. Upon reaching the top, Cassie was a bit embarrassed that she was more winded than Richard. She hadn’t exercised much at all the past few months, wrapped up in the sudden changes in her life, and those steps were a reminder of that. However, that was a thought for a different day because what was right in front of her was amazing.
They were in a sea of thousands who were admiring the most spectacular view of Paris around. As Cassie took in the glorious view, she could sense Richard’s intense gaze on her, and due to the crushing of the crowd, his breath on her neck. She had a hunch that he’d been jealous earlier, which was surprising, and well, kind of nice, if she were to be truthful. It shouldn’t be, but it was. At that moment, she wished that he would hold her in his arms. Maybe it was the environment or the air, or maybe it was just him and the way she was drawn to him. How was she going to get through the next two weeks all alone with him, much less the next year?
“How about going back to the hotel now,” Richard said after they had admired the view for a while. “We have a full day tour of the Palace of Versailles and Claude Monet’s house and gardens tomorrow.”
“Good idea,” Cassie said in a dreamy like state. “Maybe just a simple dinner at a restaurant near the hotel.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Richard said.
Cassie yawned and couldn’t cover her mouth in time.
“Hey, let’s take the funicular down the hill and then take a cab.”
“What’s a funicular?” Cassie asked.
“It’s a type of elevator/train, another new experience for us,” Richard said and smiled at her, causing her to quiver with desire.
***
Just like the day before, the tour bus picked them up again, only
it was quite a bit bigger. Cassie looked around, disappointed to not see any of the nice people from the day before. She saw Richard look, too, but he seemed relieved.
With each stop, the bus became fuller and finally, they had a full load and were headed out of town. Once they left the city it was a little over an hour’s drive to reach the village of Giverny, which sat on the Right Bank of the River Seine where the River Epte joined it.
The pretty village, which Monet fell in love with when spotting it out of a train window in 1883, consisted mainly of two streets on the hillside lined with low houses in a green or pink roughcast with slate roofs, and walls covered with Virginia and Wisteria creeper.
“I can’t wait to see the gardens and his house, I’m sure I’ll get inspiration for Primrose House,” Cassie said as they walked towards the painter’s old home.
“I hope we will, I’ve always admired his work.”
She noticed that he said we, but she didn’t mind. It was nice that he was worried about it. Made sense, too, considering that it had been his home for some time.
On reaching Monet’s house they entered a walled garden, a piece of land that sloped gently down from the front of the house to the road, The Clos Normand. They began working their way around the garden clockwise; a garden full of color, perspectives, and symmetries.
“Smells good,” Cassie said, as she sniffed the roses climbing up an iron trellis.
“I wonder how hard these really are to take care of,” Richard commented. “I know Grandmother used to have them, but I cannot recall if they’re there under all the overgrowth in the back yard of Primrose.”
“If they were there, that would be incredible. I’d just have to learn how to take care of them myself, maybe,” Cassie said. Then she added, “For a year at least.”
In the far corner of the garden they went through a tunnel that led under the road to the Water Garden. As they followed the path to the Japanese bridge depicted in so many of his paintings, they came across a pond full of water Lilies, shaded by weeping willows. Cassie was in such awe, feeling like she was Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face. It was so stunning.
