by Julie Caplin
‘If it was a date, do you think Nick would mind?’ he asked, his eyes suddenly shadowed. She sat up, sharply surprised by the sudden change in direction of his thoughts.
‘Nick! You really care what he thinks?’ she asked with a quick scowl, watching the white tip of one his teeth grazing at his lip. Seriously? A touch of heartburn seared the top of her stomach along with a punch of anger and frustration. At this moment in time she felt anything but datelike, she wanted to strangle the man. ‘Did Nick have anything to do with … well, it was pretty obvious I had a crush on you years ago. I thought maybe you … you were nice to me then.’
Sebastian bit his lip. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so grumpy. That’s why I invited you up here tonight … to say sorry and to thank you.’ He rubbed a hand over his face and looked away over the rooftops.
‘You’re avoiding the question,’ said Nina contrarily pushing for an answer even though she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like his response
‘At this moment in time, it would probably be—’ he gave a mocking smile ‘—nice to kiss you and to wipe that angry look off your face. But in the cold light of day, yeah, unfortunately what he thinks does matter.’
In a scant second her hopes rose and fell as Nina swallowed down the lump of disappointment and let her silence speak for itself.
He winced. ‘You’re mad now … sorry, I’m not great at this stuff. You need to bear with me.’
She held her tongue, prepared to give him one last chance and let him explain. ‘You know relationships. You’re so much better with people than I am. I’m good at being a boss. Good at being a chef. And pretty average at the other stuff. I say the wrong thing. Especially when I’m upset about something. Whereas you … people like you. They like you a lot. You spread all this good cheer and happiness around. They talk to you. Open up.’
Nina shrugged, slightly embarrassed. She didn’t think that was anything special. Certainly no great achievement.
‘When we were younger, you made me feel like some superhero. And for a while I believed that we … then Nick warned me off. That last week. Just before I was due to go back to Uni.’
‘Warned you off? What, me?’ Nina clenched her fist, digging half-moons into her palms.
‘Not in a “stay away from my sister or I’ll see you sleep with the fishes” warning but more of a “ha! Isn’t Nina’s teenage crush on you hilarious? She had one like this on her teacher six months ago and one on the postman before that.”’
The bite of her fingernails started to sting.
‘And you believed him?’
‘He also pointed out that if I was serious about being a chef, I wouldn’t be around that much.’ He rubbed at his eyebrow again. ‘It made me realise, crush or not, you deserved someone that would be there for you. Someone waiting at the finishing line for your races, someone who took you out. I was going away, it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to wait for me for years. And I figured you’d move on.’ Sebastian looked uncertain and took a quick look at the watch on his wrist. ‘And when I came back from uni, you barely spoke to me.’
Nina scowled again. ‘I barely spoke to you because I was so flipping embarrassed. I’d completely humiliated myself.’
Sebastian shrugged and looked away at the skyline and then did a quick check of his watch again.
‘If you look at your watch one more time I’m going to throw your crutches off this roof and leave you up here.’
‘Turn around,’ said Sebastian, suddenly pushing at her shoulders and turning her to face the opposite view across the city.
Nina panned the view but couldn’t … and then. ‘Oh! Oh, how gorgeous.’
Over on the horizon, the Eiffel Tower began to sparkle and glitter like a magical firework. Twinkling and flashing with diamond bright light darting and shooting into the night.
‘Wow,’ she breathed, entranced. ‘I never knew it did that.’
‘Every night for the first five minutes of the hour.’
‘How on earth did I miss that?’ she asked, turning back to him with tears in her eyes.
Sebastian’s gaze met hers. ‘Sometimes we all miss things that are right in front of us but…’ He sighed and looked beyond her. She could see the shadows playing over his face as he studied the light display. He took her hand and squeezed it, but the brief touch didn’t detract from the bleak look in his eyes.
‘Nina I really … I like you a lot but…’
‘It’s fine, Sebastian.’ She cut him off, her words quick and sharp, like cauterising a wound. The but spoke volumes and if it was of the I don’t fancy you, I don’t want to go out with you or the you’re not the girl for me variety, she couldn’t bear to hear it. ‘It was all a long time ago, we’ve both grown up a lot since then.’
Turning away on the pretext of watching the lights fizz and buzz in the night sky, she blinked back stupid tears that had no place leaking their way out. But her brain insisted on picking and poking at things, like sorting through jigsaw pieces, and it couldn’t leave two outstanding facts alone; one, Sebastian was still holding her hand, his thumb gently stroking her knuckles and two, that bleak look in his eyes. Why?
She was about to ask him about the but, when a loud voice boomed across the rooftop, the sort of loud that a person used to signal their presence in case they were interrupting.
‘Evening all.’
Sebastian pulled his hand away and they both turned to see Alex balancing a tray with a bottle of champagne tucked in an ice bucket and two flutes on a tray.
‘Hi … oh it’s you, Nina.’ He shook his head, blinking for a second. ‘I thought it was going to be Ka…’ He beamed at her. ‘Sorry, Bas, I was worried that maybe you weren’t getting a phone signal up here. You said you’d text for drinks but I didn’t hear, so I thought I’d go for broke and bring some champagne up.’
‘We just hadn’t got around to deciding what to drink,’ said Sebastian. ‘We were talking.’
Despite his pointed words, Alex beamed. ‘And now I realise it’s Nina up here with you, champagne’s probably not the thing,’ said Alex. ‘Sorry I thought …’ He winked at Nina. ‘Although I did wonder why he didn’t ask for something romantic like a couple of Kir Royales. Now I know. How are you Nina?’
‘I’m fine.’ She dredged up a smile. Alex wasn’t to know he’d walked in on something that still needed resolving. And how could she have forgotten about the super svelte Katrin?
‘I’ll take this back then, unless you fancy some fizz Nina? Seb, what would you like?’
‘I’ll take a small beer. You can have the champagne if you like, Nina.’
She shook her head, it felt hopelessly inappropriate. ‘I’ll just have a glass of red wine, please,’ she said in a small voice. Clearly it was business as usual as far as Sebastian was concerned.
‘And what sort would you like? I can recommend a nice Bordeaux or a lovely fruity Vins de Pay d’Oc. Or there’s a—’
‘Alex.’ Sebastian glared at him.
‘I’ll just have the house,’ said Nina.
‘And would you like me to send dinner out?’ asked Alex. Nina couldn’t decide whether he was oblivious to Sebastian’s eagerness to be rid of him or was deliberately outstaying his welcome. Either way, she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease at Alex’s blithe assumption that it was the gorgeous and immaculate Katrin up here.
‘That would be great, thanks.’ Sebastian’s clipped tone seemed to bounce off Alex who winked at Nina and headed towards the door to the lift, already on his walkie talkie ordering the wine and beer from someone down below.
While he was absent Sebastian turned to Nina and muttered rather like some film spy, out of the side of his mouth, ‘And he’s got it wrong. Katrin’s not on the scene anymore.’
Alex, with his continuing sense of impeccable timing, reappeared, wheeling a trolley bearing silver domed dishes as Nina tried to digest this information and the urgency with which Sebastian had mouthed the words.
‘Shall I se
rve?’
‘No, thanks, I can take it from here,’ said Sebastian, less than deftly getting to his feet.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Alex, taking a napkin and flicking it out with great aplomb, before lifting one of the domes. ‘Tonight for your pleasure, we have—’ he paused for effect ‘—spare ribs in barbecue sauce with coleslaw and French fries.’
Nina shot a glance at Sebastian – was that a blush on his face – and started to giggle. He lifted his shoulders in one of those well-what-can-you-do sort of gestures.
‘I trust it meets with your approval, madam,’ said Alex totally unaware of the dimpled smile that Nina gave Sebastian.
‘It’s a favourite of mine,’ she said unable to stop the smile turning into a full-blown grin.
‘Excellent taste’ said Alex, busy rather incongruously serving several ribs onto a bone china, gilt-edged plate.
Sebastian shared a look of amusement with her and leaned back into the sofa, keeping quiet while Alex kept up a running commentary as he served up two plates.
‘Will that be all folks? Someone will be here with your drinks shortly.’
‘That’s everything, thanks,’ said Nina, jumping in before Sebastian could say anything. She had a feeling that any minute now he was going to tell Alex to take a running jump off the roof.
When at last Alex had gone, Nina turned to Sebastian. ‘Ribs?’
‘You used to love them.’
‘And you don’t think my tastes might have changed in the last few years? You know, become a touch more sophisticated?’
Sebastian frowned. ‘Is this a trick question?’
‘Yes,’ gurgled Nina, still touched that he’d arranged what had once upon a time been her absolute favourite meal. ‘My favourite meal now is linguine with clams…’
‘Ah.’ Sebastian’s disappointment was almost palpable. ‘Like you said, it was a long time ago and we’ve grown up a lot since then.
‘At least that’s what I tell everyone…’ She gave him a naughty grin, delighted that she’d disconcerted him. Then she softened her expression, ‘But some things never really change…’ She bit her lip and looked at him, waiting for what felt like a full minute until his gaze met hers. ‘I’d forgotten how much I love ribs and coleslaw. Thank you.’
It was almost comical watching him add everything up, the swift head jerk when he … when he finally got the right answer.
‘So…’ He frowned, as if still struggling with a difficult equation. ‘When I said, I really like you a lot but … what I was trying to say was … I don’t want to come between you and your family.’
Nina shook her head and smiled at him, lifting her hand to touch his. ‘Nothing will come between me and my family … ever.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘But … they might just have to learn to lump it.’ With a lift of her heart, she felt his fingers lace through hers.
‘And what about Alex?’
She focused on his warm, dry hand laying heavy in hers. It wasn’t any sort of declaration but it felt like an anchor. It was enough to start with.
Nina squeezed his hand. ‘He’s lovely but the last thing I need is another brother.’
‘Good, you’ve got enough of those.’ Sebastian’s words had her turning her head sharply.
‘I’ve never thought of you as a brother.’
A dull flush ran along Sebastian’s cheekbones. ‘G – good. That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to.’ He squeezed her hand back before disentangling it and becoming all practical again by picking up one of the serving dishes. ‘Now are we going to tuck into this highly sophisticated offering while it’s still hot?’
Nina bit back a sigh. Was she ever going to know where she stood with this man?
Chapter 28
Nina gave her favourite receptionist a brilliant smile as she wheeled the chair through the lobby. She and Sebastian were friends again. That was a positive step forward. A huge step forward. It was a very good thing. And friends was better than … no, it wasn’t but it was something.
Sometimes she thought Sebastian might like her and other times, she wondered if all that was on offer was friendship. But she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself a second time. She wasn’t going to let any of her inner confusion show.
She’d taken the initiative on Sunday, asking if he’d like another wheelchair outing. He’d been busy until today but that was fine because it had given her time to do her research.
‘Morning,’ she sang, deliberately chirpy as she opened his room door. ‘Your chariot awaits.’
‘Good morning. Am I pleased to see you!’ Sebastian appeared at the bedroom door balancing on his crutches and gave her a brilliant just-for-you sort of smile that made her toes curl. ‘It’s a gorgeous morning and far too nice to be cooped up with a stack of paint charts.’
‘Delighted to be of service,’ she said, smiling so hard she thought her cheeks might pull a muscle. Great to know she was of use. ‘You’re looking a lot better,’ she said, giving in to her inner bitch which wasn’t taking disappointment quite so well.
‘Thanks. You mean as opposed to my former incarnation of the great unwashed. It’s amazing how much better you feel after having a shower. Although I’m getting through industrial quantities of cling film.’
Nina immediately felt a bit mean for her earlier pointed comment. ‘With or without Alex’s help? There was a marked improvement the second time I saw you.’
‘Thank you. Although when someone comments on your personal hygiene, it is rather incumbent to do something about it.’ There was a teasing twinkle in his eye.
‘I didn’t!’ she said outraged.
‘Hmm, I rather think suggesting I might like help with washing my hair was quite pointed.’
‘Well…’ She gave him a quick grin. ‘You did pong a bit.’
‘Hey!’
‘Sorry, but … you were less than fragrant. Now enough of the idle chit-chat. Are you ready?’
‘Yup. So where are we going?’
‘We’re going on a grand gastronomic walking tour.’
‘Or wheeling tour, even.’
‘Yes, thank goodness most of Paris is quite flat. I’ve got the route all worked out.’
‘So what does this tour entail?’
‘Patisserie – traditional and avant-garde.’
Since her visit to Ladurée, Nina had been doing her research during the evenings on her own at the apartment and making notes of places she wanted to see. Today offered the perfect opportunity and there might have been an ulterior motive.
‘OK, any particular reason?’
‘Yes,’ said Nina firmly. ‘I … I want to see more and learn more.’ Actually, she wanted him to see more. Somewhere along the way he’d lost his creative spark. ‘And show you a bit more.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes,’ she said in a decisive tone that brooked no argument.
‘You weren’t impressed by my macarons, were you?’
Her smile faltered. ‘Busted.’
‘What was wrong with them?’
‘Nothing. They were perfect … just a bit … you know…’
‘Marcel said they were a triumphant trilogy.’
‘Where Marcel is concerned, anything freshly baked gets a big tick in his book. He loathes selling bought-in patisserie. I’m surprised he never came to blows with the delivery driver.’
Sebastian frowned.
‘Anyone would think you spend all week there.’
Nina’s eyes widened fractionally. ‘Well, I pop in. You know. Check things. You know. Meet Marguerite and Maddie for coffee. That sort of thing.’
Amusement threaded his voice. ‘That sort of thing. That’s very sweet of you. Are you minding the place for me? I should have realised you’d be at a loose end and on your own a lot. Sorry I could have been—’
Whatever he could have been, she would never know as she hastily interrupted him, guilt making her babble. ‘I’ve been fine. Busy. Exploring. I’m not there that much. And when I am, I
’m … well tidying, preparing.’
Part of her hoped he might be impressed with the hours she’d put in perfecting her patisserie, but she couldn’t reveal that without explaining about Marcel selling them in the shop.
The research she’d done had paid off and she had the perfect route worked out which would take them out of the hotel and down to Fauchon, the patisserie opposite L’Église de la Madeleine, then on through Place de la Madeleine to Rue Royale and Ladurée before going through Place de la Concorde, over the Seine and then it was quite a good walk to the next two patisseries which were much more contemporary in style.
‘Interesting,’ said Sebastian as they peered in the window of Fauchon, with its bright pink and black branding. ‘It’s like the enfant terrible of the patisserie world.’
It was brash, bright and loud. There were shelves packed with chocolate confectionery in the signature Fauchon packaging, white letters on black with touches of bright pink. As they moved to the back of the shop, the patisserie was displayed in wide shallow chiller cabinets, with exotic labels describing the detailed layered cakes – sablé breton, crème à la vanille de Madagascar, framboises, eclats de pistaches and cremeux caramela beurre salé. Nina wanted to take notes but satisfied herself by taking lots of pictures, particularly of the long glossy éclairs dotted with slivers of gold leaf, the chocolate so dark it was almost black. To the right there were macarons in every flavour and colour imaginable, stacked neatly in rows, reminding her of little untried yoyos.
From there they went to the rather more sedate Ladurée, which was still Nina’s favourite.
‘This is like the dowager duchess compared to the brash young prince,’ observed Nina, as they peered in the window. ‘But I prefer it. I came here a couple of weeks ago.’
‘And what did you think?’ Sebastian glanced up at her.
‘I thought the cheesecake was to die for and so was the plasir sucre,’ she grinned. ‘And the Saint-Honoré and the Ispahan and the rum baba and the pistachio religieuse.’
‘How many cakes did you have?’
‘Alex ordered all of them.’
