by Anita Hughes
But he wasn’t going to lose Isabel. He picked up the bouquet of tulips and hardbound book on Monet’s gardens at Giverny. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed. Celine had taken the gold box of chocolate profiteroles.
chapter twenty
Isabel sat on a yellow silk armchair in the Crillon’s lobby and gazed at the intricate tapestries and wide marble staircase. The blue velvet wallpaper was flecked with gold, and crystal vases were filled with white roses. She glanced up at the mosaic ceiling and felt like she was inside a box of gourmet chocolates.
After she saw Celine enter Alec’s suite, she gathered her packages and stepped back into the elevator. She couldn’t risk walking down the hallway and having Alec open the door.
She had been so sure Mathieu was right and Alec was in love with her. But now Alec and Celine were back together and Isabel was leaving tomorrow. She wasn’t going to think about Alec. It was like trying to read when you had a terrible headache.
She gazed at women wearing Chanel suits and men in cashmere overcoats and thought all the other guests looked so sophisticated and happy. In two days it would be New Year’s Eve and they were enjoying the end of their vacation.
A bellboy in a gold uniform offered her a plate of petits fours and she suddenly needed to be alone. She scooped up her parcels and walked down the marble hallway. She entered a paneled library with a Louis XVI desk and walnut cabinets filled with Fabergé eggs. Her phone buzzed and she pressed accept.
“Isabel!” Her mother’s voice came over the line. “I’m so glad I caught you.”
“Is everything all right?” Isabel asked, suddenly wishing she were nibbling fruitcake in the kitchen in Ardmore.
“You sounded a little off the other day and I know you can be quite stubborn,” her mother explained. “I wondered if anything is wrong.”
Isabel glanced at the jewel-encrusted eggs and thought she could pretend nothing happened and board the plane. Her parents would greet her at the Philadelphia airport and they’d talk about her new work projects and going to St. Bart’s in April. But she pictured Alec’s dark eyes and white smile and her heart shifted in her chest.
“I met a fortune-teller who said I’d fall in love and marry a French aristocrat. The next night I met a count at the Red Cross charity ball and was sure he was the one. We had dinner at Tour d’Argent and attended the opera and I hoped he was going to ask me to marry him.
“But when he was about to propose, I realized I was in love with Alec all along. He’s a children’s book illustrator who turned out to be a viscount, though he never told me.
“I thought he’d lied to me, so I said I never wanted to see him again. But then his friend followed me on the Pont Alexandre III and explained Alec was madly in love with me, and I had to give him another chance.
“I hurried back to the Crillon to tell Alec I was in love with him.” She paused. “The elevator doors opened and I saw a beautiful blonde enter his suite. I’m sure it was his ex-fiancée and now they’re back together.
“I’m coming home tomorrow, and everything is ruined.” Her lips trembled. “I was really in love this time, it’s like nothing I felt before.”
“Isn’t it a little sudden?” her mother wondered. “You’ve barely been in Paris a week.”
“Remember when you said that eventually I would meet the right person and I replied next time I fell in love it would be forever?” Isabel fiddled with her necklace. “I know Alec is the one. I’m as certain as I am that Apple stock will always be a good investment. He’s warm and sincere, and when we’re together, I don’t want to be anywhere else.”
“Then you have to tell him you’re in love with him,” her mother urged.
“It’s too late,” Isabel sighed. “I’m sure he’s back with Celine.”
“He may have moved on,” her mother suggested. “He might not want her back at all.”
“I never thought of that.” Isabel faltered. “It’s possible, though she did look gorgeous in that white jumpsuit.”
“Do you really have a choice?” her mother asked. “If you want something, you have to fight for it.”
Isabel pictured the pink and blue lights of the Eiffel Tower and couples holding hands on the Pont Neuf. She saw Alec in his red sweater, clutching a colored pencil and studying a sketch of Gus riding an elephant.
“I have nothing to lose and he did say he was in love with me.” She jumped up. “That doesn’t change because a willowy blonde appears, reeking of Chanel No 5.”
“Call me and tell me what happens,” her mother said. “And Isabel, I know this time you’re going to make the right decision.”
* * *
ISABEL STOOD AT the dressing table and zipped up a beige wool dress. Her hair was held back with a gold clip and she wore pink lipstick. She fastened the glass bracelet around her wrist and thought Alec had to say he loved her; she couldn’t live without him.
She heard a sound on the balcony and stepped outside. It was early evening and a thick fog had settled on the Place de la Concorde. Colored lights glittered on the Christmas tree, and shoppers strolled along the Champs-Élysées.
“God, there you are!” Alec exclaimed. “I thought you’d never come outside.”
Isabel glanced at the adjoining balcony and saw Alec holding one shoe. He wore a white button-up shirt and twill slacks.
“That’s a beautiful dress,” he said, rubbing his hands. “Are you going to dinner with Antoine?”
“I sent Antoine back the tiara. I’m going to have lunch with him tomorrow. I could never send him a Dear John letter after everything he did, but it’s over.” She hesitated. “What are you doing out here, and why did you throw a shoe on my balcony?”
“I need to talk to you and locked myself out,” he explained. “The Crillon has to do something about the locks on the French doors. I’m surprised more guests don’t get stuck outside in their underwear.”
“Why didn’t you just knock on my door?” Isabel asked.
“It’s a long story and I’m shivering,” he said. “Could you call housekeeping and ask them to let me in?”
* * *
ISABEL GLANCED AROUND the living room of Alec’s suite and saw a silver tray set with porcelain demitasses. A bouquet of tulips stood on the glass table and she wondered if Celine was in the bedroom. Alec and Celine were back together and he didn’t know how to tell her without hurting her feelings.
“I thought Celine might be in the hallway and I was afraid she’d see me,” he explained. “She has a pretty good arm and I didn’t want to end up with a stiletto mark on my forehead.
“I decided the easiest way was to climb onto your balcony,” he continued. “But when I walked outside, I realized I may not be afraid of heights anymore but I’m not stupid. The railing is too narrow and there’s a five-story drop. Then the French doors closed and I was stuck outside.”
“Celine is still here?” Isabel gasped.
“She showed up in the suite this afternoon.” He poured a glass of scotch. “Things didn’t work out in Australia. She’s not fond of the cuisine and the climate dried her skin.”
“Why did she come back to the Crillon?” Isabel wondered, her heart pounding in her chest.
“She wanted to get back together.” He sipped the scotch. “Apparently Patrick isn’t quite the cricket hero and his French pronunciation is terrible. She said I let her go too easily. If I loved her, I should have fought for her.
“I realized she was right. If you love someone, you don’t give up at the first hurdle. Even if you keep falling down and your knees are scraped and your clothes are muddy, you make it to the finish line.” He paused. “That’s when I knew I couldn’t let you go. I had to convince you to give us another chance.”
“You did?” Isabel whispered.
The air left her lungs and she was almost dizzy. She glanced around the room and thought she hadn’t noticed the gold drapes and Lalique statue before.
“I should have told you about my mot
her and Bettina, but it had nothing to do with us. I could never get married to save Claudia from being evicted.” He took her hand. “And there’s something else I didn’t tell you. I’m really a viscount. My father hated using his title, especially after Bettina’s mother ran off with a farmer.” He paused. “Perhaps if she left with a comte or a duc he would have felt differently.
“I started falling in love with you, and you were so intent on marrying a French aristocrat,” he finished. “If I told you the truth, I’d never know if you really loved me.”
“Mathieu followed me from the Pont Alexandre III and told me the whole story.” Isabel nodded. “He said you never meant to hurt me and I had to give you another chance. We both made mistakes. You shouldn’t have kept secrets, and I shouldn’t have based my future on the fortune-teller’s predictions.
“I came back to the Crillon and my mother called. She was worried about me,” she continued. “I told her about the fortune-teller and Antoine and realizing I was in love you. Then I explained I saw Celine enter your suite and I was sure it was too late.” She looked up. “She said if I loved you, I had to fight for you.
“It seems everyone wants to give advice, not just the fortune-teller,” she mused. “But you can’t listen to other people when it comes to love. It’s not like asking the guy at the hardware store to pick out paint or the salesgirl at Saks for the right stockings.” She took a deep breath. “The only person you can listen to is yourself.”
He put his arm around her and kissed her. She kissed him back and tasted scotch and salted nuts.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” she said and smiled. “And it has nothing to do with the fortune-teller or helping your mother stay in 40 Rue de Passy.”
Alec reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box.
“I may not have generations of wealth like Rory or an MBA like Neil, but I promise to provide a good home for us and our children.” He paused. “I have big plans for Gus, he’s going to get new branding.
“Celine gave me back my grandmother’s ring, but I thought I’d have it reset,” he continued. “In the meantime I wanted to give you a ring with special meaning.”
He opened the box and took out a pink-and-blue glass ring.
“I visited the magician at the Christmas market and asked if he had a ring to match the bracelet.” He paused. “He gave me this and said it has magical properties.”
“What kind of magical properties?” Isabel asked.
“When you put it on, you are guaranteed a life full of love and happiness and two children and a standard poodle.”
“Wouldn’t Gus be jealous if we got a poodle?” she laughed.
“You’re right, we’ll get a cocker spaniel.” He looked at Isabel. “Isabel Lawson, will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Alec slipped the glass ring on her finger and kissed her.
chapter twenty-one
Isabel stood on the balcony of her suite and thought there was nowhere more beautiful than Paris on New Year’s Eve. The silver and gold lights in the Place de la Concorde twinkled, and the cars that pulled up at the Hôtel de Crillon were all creamy Rolls-Royces and midnight blue Bentleys.
Women stepped onto the pavement wearing sequined evening gowns and carrying jeweled clutches. The men wore custom tuxedos with silk bow ties and tasseled shoes.
She walked back inside and thought so much had happened in the two days since Alec had proposed. They drove to 40 Rue de Passy and told Claudia the good news and called Isabel’s parents and shared their excitement. Isabel even insisted they tell Bettina. What better time to mend their relationship than during the magical time of the holidays.
She thought of everything they had done together and a warmth spread through her chest. They waited in line at La Poilâne for pain au chocolat and café au lait. They spent a whole afternoon at Shakespeare and Company, and Alec introduced her to the books he loved as a child: The Secret Garden and A Bear Called Paddington and The Adventures of Tintin. Afterward they saw a romantic comedy in French with English subtitles and held hands in the dark.
Now she glanced at her gown in the mirror and thought it really was perfect. The silver bodice hugged her chest and the chiffon skirt fell just below the knee. And the pumps she discovered at Le Printemps were like a prop from a Disney movie: satin with a jeweled heel and gold bow.
She remembered the price tag and felt slightly guilty. But it was a special occasion and everyone would be here to celebrate. Her parents had arrived at Orly Airport a few hours ago and Mathieu and Helene were coming and Isabel was going to meet Alec’s publisher. She draped a pink pashmina around her shoulders and grabbed her quilted evening bag.
“I would have been ready half an hour ago, but I couldn’t tie my tie,” Alec said when he opened the door. He looked handsome in a white dinner jacket and beige slacks. “It’s impossible to tie a bow tie without looking in the mirror. Then it always ends up looking backwards.”
“You should have knocked on my door.” Isabel reached up and adjusted his collar. “I would have tied it for you.”
“We could have just stayed in the same suite,” he sighed. “I haven’t been able to concentrate on a thing all afternoon. I keep drawing Gus tangled up in a white sheet like Casper the ghost. All I want to do is stay in bed with you. Do you think we can tell our guests to come back tomorrow?”
“We can’t stay in the same honeymoon suite until we’re on our honeymoon,” Isabel laughed. “I don’t think the Crillon will be happy if we cancel a five-course dinner for fifteen people in the private dining room.”
“We could get married and share a suite tonight,” Alec suggested. “Think of all the money we’d save. Having two honeymoon suites is exorbitant.”
“Winter weddings are bad luck, they never seem to happen.” Isabel perched on a love seat. “Spring is the perfect time to get married in Paris. We’ll take photos in the Bois de Boulogne and have the wedding luncheon in your mother’s garden. My mother has already started thinking about the colors. She suggested the bridesmaids wear pale green and the centerpieces be pink and yellow roses.”
“Our mothers will get along wonderfully. They’ll probably spend the evening exchanging gardening tips.” He slipped his wallet into his pocket. “Did we really have to invite Bettina and Édouard? It’s like Little Red Riding Hood asking the big bad wolf to come over for boeuf bourguignon and potatoes au gratin.”
“It’s our engagement dinner, we want all our family there.” Isabel fiddled with her sapphire earrings.
“Just make sure no one leaves her alone with the soup.” Alec bristled. “You never know what she’ll slip in it when no one’s looking.”
“You read too many detective novels.” Isabel smiled. “I’m sure Bettina will be happy for us. You are her brother and you’re engaged to the woman you love.”
“You haven’t spent any time with her. But it is New Year’s Eve. I’ll make sure the waiters keep her champagne flute filled with Dom Pérignon.” He kissed her. “I don’t care who we invited, all I want is to be with you.”
Isabel felt the warmth of his mouth and a tingle ran down her spine. They had made love for hours, and it had taken all her willpower to insist Alec return to his suite. But they had so much to look forward to: preparing for the wedding, finding an apartment, planning their honeymoon. She wanted to savor every moment, like opening one present at a time on Christmas morning.
“We better go downstairs now”—she smoothed her hair—“or we’ll never leave the suite at all.”
“You know I’d happily attend dinner parties every night and wear impossible bow ties and even go dancing if it means being together.” Alec took her hand.
Isabel reached up and kissed him. “Why would we dance all night when we have other things to do?”
* * *
THE LOUIS XVI salon in the Hôtel de Crillon was so beautiful it took Isabel’s breath away. Red damask wall
s were covered with rich tapestries, and parquet floors were scattered with Oriental rugs, and gold candelabras flickered on the polished sideboard. Crystal chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, and a huge ornate mirror hung above the marble fireplace.
The long mahogany table was covered in a red-and-gold tablecloth and set with Limoges china and Baccarat wineglasses. Royal blue vases were filled with red roses, and there were framed paintings by Matisse and Chagall. Pinpoint lighting illuminated bronze statues, and French doors opened onto a walled patio.
“Darling, I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see you.” Isabel’s mother approached them. Adele wore a black cocktail dress and diamond earrings. Her ash-blond hair was swept into a bun and she wore red lipstick. “There was a snowstorm in Philadelphia and I was afraid we wouldn’t get out. But we’re here now and our suite is gorgeous. It has a piano and private balcony and heated bathroom floors. Your father thinks we should install them in Ardmore, his feet get cold after he takes a bath.”
“I’m so glad you came.” Isabel hugged her. “It was such short notice, I didn’t know if you had other New Year’s Eve plans.”
“Miss your engagement dinner and New Year’s Eve at the Hôtel de Crillon?” Adele raised her eyebrow. “We couldn’t gather our passports fast enough. Where is Alec? I can’t wait to meet him.”
Isabel turned around and saw Alec talking to her father. They both held plates of foie gras and crystal champagne flutes.
“We were getting acquainted.” Her father joined them. He wore a black dinner jacket and gold cuff links. “I was telling Alec how your mother almost left me in the suite because I couldn’t put on my cuff links. You have to be a contortionist to do it with one hand.”
“I offered to help, but John can be quite stubborn,” Adele laughed. “And I wanted to get down here and meet my future son-in-law.”
“We’re so glad you came.” Alec offered his hand. “I’m sure traveling on New Year’s Eve is a challenge.”
“The flight was a little bumpy and it took ages to get through customs.” Adele glanced at Isabel’s sparkling brown eyes. “But we’d fly all night to see Isabel looking so happy.”
