Scent of Desire : A Parisian Exotica: An Ultra Luxury Billionaire Romance
Page 4
“Yes, we are,” falcon grinned. “Alsace doesn’t have an airport but we can land at the property itself.”
Charles bid them goodbye after storing the luggage in the helicopter compartment.
“She beautiful,” Carla couldn’t help admiring the streamlined machine, “and looks familiar. I’ve seen this in a movie somewhere,” she quipped.
“It’s a Black Hawk Sikorski helicopter…and she’s all mine.” Falcon said.
“You own this?”
“Yup,” Falcon replied as a look of satisfaction spread across his face.
“You and your man toys,” Carla chided.
“It’s more than just a toy. This baby can reach a top speed of 178 mph and has a range of 473 miles,” Falcon informed her as he run a loving hand across the chopper.
“Duh! So, where’s the pilot?” Carla asked looking around.
“You’re looking at him,” Falcon retorted.
“You know how to fly this thing?” Carla asked in surprise.
“I took a one-day simulation class before I bought her,” Falcon deadpanned.
“Jesus!” Carla uttered preparing to flee.
“Just kidding,” Falcon guffawed. “I’ve been flying for years now.”
Carla approached the helicopter still undecided whether she should go through this suicide mission.
He opened the passenger door and proclaimed, “You can sit inside where you’ll feel safer or with me in the cockpit. Your choice.’’
Carla scrambled towards the cockpit doors. “I’m not sitting there all by myself. I’ll sit upfront with you.”
Falcon helped her in as Carla fumbled with the seatbelts. Her anxiety made her all thumbs and she couldn’t strap herself in.
“Here, let me help you,” Falcon volunteered.
The belt clicked and Carla was strapped in. He was near enough that Carla couldn’t help but stare at is face. He looked up and Carla blushed.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you,” Falcon reassured her.
I-I’m not,” Carla lied.
“I can always tell when you’re lying. Your nostrils flare,” Falcon countered.
“No, they don’t,” Carla denied.
Falcon chuckled as he pulled the door shut and made his way to the other side. Unknown to him, Carla followed him with her eyes.
There’s so much I don’t know about him. What else is there I wonder. I should try to get to know him better. Give him a chance. Give myself a chance. Its such a dangerous game because each time I find out something new, I fall even deeper in love with him.
Falcon handed her a headset which she gingerly put on, then he fitted another onto his head. He started his flight checks once seated beside her. Carla was surprised she could hear him through her earpiece. Some of her doubts receded as he confidently radioed the tower. Soon he was given the all-clear to take off. He flicked on several switches with a quiet confidence, and as the propeller began to turn, he looked at her sideways and winked. Carla beamed.
They rose slowly up into the air as Carla giggled. Paris resembled a 3D animation the higher they lifted until the landscape was just a sprawling miniature of houses, buildings, and greenery down below.
She was probably grinning like crazy. She couldn’t help it. This was her first helicopter ride and it felt fabulous. The silhouette of the Eiffel tower appeared in the distance. She tugged at his elbow and gestured in that direction.
“You can speak normally, you know,” Falcon teased.
She slapped his arm, embarrassed. “He must think I’m such a nerd,” she thought.
“I should take you on an air tour of the city. But its not in the flight plan and I don’t want to get to near other birds in the sky.”
“Let’s not do that then,” Carla replied as Falcon headed northward.
The landscape soon changed to rolling hills as they left Paris behind. Roads resembling ribbons twisted and turned and went up and down across verdant hills. The mounds of earth looked like dumplings haphazardly spread out on a tray that was the ground. They stretched out in all directions as far as the eye could see
“That’s the Rhine,” Falcon pointed to a shimmering thread that snaked slowly in the distance.
As they neared the Rhine, a small town appeared. “That’s Strasbourg, the capital city of Alsace.” Falcon informed her.
“Are we nearing Riquewihr,” Carla asked.
Falcon nodded. “See those mountain peaks. They are the Vosges. Riquewihr is situated between those peaks.
Carla eagerly followed the direction with her eyes. As they flew closer, a small town appeared. Clusters of charming houses competed with the steeples of a church, even as more structures dotted the fields of fertile green evoking images from a fairytale locale. It almost looked medieval despite the presence of tourists strolling the alleys. And next to the fields, Carla saw rows upon rows of vineyards that stretched neatly all the way to the horizon.
Carla was at a loss for words. Riquewihr was enchanting. Various shades of green that defied description bombarded the eye. It was like drinking cool clear water on a hot summer day. She felt drunk just drinking in the sights around her.
“There,” Falcon pointed to a knoll, “that’s the property I bought.”
Falcon maneuvered the chopper away from the trees that bounded the property on one side and gently landed the Black Hawk on a newly cemented landing and switched off the engine.
The silence that followed was broken only by the gentle whoosh of the wind.
Carla removed her headset and said, “I understand why you fell in love with this place. There is something almost magical here. Its so peaceful, so ethereal, you don’t want to close your eyes for fear that it may disappear.”
Falcon looked thoughtful before a smile broke through. “Anyone else would say its so far away from civilization. I must be crazy to want something tucked away at the edge of the world. But I know I could live here and be happy.”
“So would I,” Carla added without thinking. Then catching herself, “…if I were rich like you.” She groaned inwardly.
Just then, a team of golf carts came into view.
“Our ride,” Falcon informed her.
Carla smiled at the procession. It was so like Falcon to inject a modern convenience into a medieval setting. She told him so.
“They’re handy to have around and I think you would prefer that to a bull-drawn cart,” he joked.
“Are they locals,” Carla asked as a group of men approached.
“Yes, and I’ve hired most of them. I think they are generally thankful for the chance to earn extra income. And I figured with all the renovations that the house will require, it can’t hurt to have as much help as we can get.”
“Do they even speak English?” Carla asked. She was worried about her none-existent French.
“Some do. But I’ve hired a local lady who used to live in London. She moved back here after she retired. You can course any difficulty thru Estelle. She’ll be more than happy to help you.”
Carla resented the idea of having to consult with another woman. She imagined Estelle to be like the receptionist at the hotel, constantly batting her eyelashes at Falcon. Then she remembered she was just as much an employee as everyone else.
Falcon made the rounds of introduction as two of the men started unloading their bags from the chopper. Falcon commandeered one of the golf carts and soon they were on their way to the house. She had gotten familiar with the pictures from Falcon’s laptop, but she was still caught by surprise at the grand structure. Up close and personal, the steep gabled roof pitch looked imposing and solid
As they entered the premises, the architect in her kicked in. Just as she expected, the interior echoed the exterior walls, constructed of timber frames and the spaces between filled with brick and plaster. The lofty ceiling was of squared oak timbers joined by wooden pegs giving the impression of a cage that ran all the way to the corners where the braces were situated.
“Thinking of knocking the old heap down?” Falcon asked.
“No. Its structurally solid. I was thinking more of how to preserve the traditional Tudor theme when I introduce more modern features,” she replied.
“Why don’t we settle in first?” Falcon asked.
Carla had completely forgotten about the living arrangements. She assumed she would be staying somewhere near.
“Estelle will show you to your room,” Falcon announced as a white-haired lady appeared.
Carla felt a sense of relief at the sight of Estelle. The lady had to be in her sixties, hair held tightly back in a severe bun.
“It’s nice to meet you, Estelle,” Carla greeted.
Estelle smiled graciously and then addressed Falcon. “I prepared the room next to yours. I hope that’s fine with you and Ms. Hornsby.”
“Please call me Carla.” She was silently elated with the room arrangements and hoped Falcon had no problem with it.
“That’s fine, Estelle,” Falcon agreed.
Carla was surprised that he joined them up the staircase but stopped short at the landing. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight. I’m sure you’re dying to explore the rest of the house. Estelle will accompany you if you need her. I’m off to town to attend to some business.”
“Alright,” Carla agreed wondering what the “business” was all about.
Once inside her room, Carla settled in and informed Estelle she would be fine by herself. She changed into work clothes. Then armed with a notebook and a pen, she set about inspecting the house that was to be her home for the next couple of months.
***
Dinner was arranged by Estelle outside under the stars. She asked some of the men to setup a canopy near the trees.
“It’s such a beautiful night. The stars always appear larger here in Riquewihr,” Estelle informed her.
Carla wondered if Estelle had any reservations about her and Falcon. She just had to prove to the woman she was here to do a job and nothing more.
A log fire was burning brightly as Carla made her way along a footpath. Falcon was silhouetted against the glow of the fire holding a wine glass. Carla didn’t hear him come in earlier. She was so engrossed exploring and writing down notes about the house. She noticed he had managed to change into more comfortable clothes.
“Hi,” she greeted placing a notebook on the table. She planned to discuss with him tonight the procedures for the construction.
Falcon offered her a glass of wine which she accepted. She decided then the business meeting could come after dinner.
Estelle reappeared followed by a retinue of servers. Dinner started with bouillabaisse which tasted perfect. Then it was followed with salmon baked in foil partnered with Pinot Noir that countered the salmon’s strong flavor. Estelle returned with an Alsatian dish which she said was locally called “choucroute” a recipe that included sausages, bacon, ham, and smoked meats prepared with potatoes and pickled sour cabbage. A cheese board with an assortment of local cheeses arrived together with baguette, fruits and nuts. Dessert was local ice cream that Carla thought was to-die for.
The dinner plates were cleared away just as Falcon opened another bottle of wine. Carla recognized the label on the bottle and blushed. Falcon may have forgotten all about it but she hadn’t. It was the same variety they consumed excessively on that particular night.
Carla decided now was a good time to discuss the details of the construction. She reached for her notebook.
“I made some notes while I was inspecting the house earlier,” she started.
Falcon smiled and took the notebook away. “I don’t think so. Not tonight. I think we deserve a night like this just enjoying it without thinking about work.”
Carla glanced up to the skies. Estelle was right. The stars did look like sparkling diamonds. The wind was a gentle breeze, and the sound from the cicadas was like a concerto coming from the woods.
“Come seat with me by the fire,” Falcon invited her as he slouched down on a wooden bench and stretched his arm across the backseat.
Carla sat down beside him. All that wine made her mellow that when Falcon tilted her head to rest on his shoulders, she offered no resistance.
“Tell me how you got into designing homes. Were you always certain what you wanted to be? Tell me who you were before I met you.” Falcon said.
By this time, the wine had done its magic. Carla was emboldened to share her life story, her struggles growing up, the triumph of getting a scholarship program, her early days at Brighton and Young, and her dream of setting up her own firm. It didn’t feel right talking about her and Lindsay’s friendship, so she skipped that part.
Falcon was equally open about his life. In some ways they even shared similar traits where their dreams were concerned.
The night had gone chillier and the cicadas have stopped their serenade before they both realized it. Falcon rose and offered her a hand. As they entered his house and ascended the stairs, Carla remembered that his bedroom was right beside hers. An expectant feeling crept in. He stopped outside her bedroom door and gave her a gentle peck.
“Goodnight Carla. Thanks for sharing your story with me,” he said.
Carla smiled and entered her room alone. She didn’t feel disappointed, only a conviction that they both knew it would have been offensive if he did. It wasn’t the right time yet.
Chapter Seven
The next few weeks tested Carla’s mettle as a manager. The enormous task of gathering workers skilled in their craft proved challenging. Carla worked on a timetable that ensured each worker wasn’t in the way of another while pursuing specialized tasks. The language barrier didn’t make her task any easier. Estelle was always around as she had her hands full stocking the kitchen and making sure the men were fed. It always felt like a fiesta when the lunch bell rang with workers filling up banquet tables set outside.
Thankfully, Hans, a teenage boy and the son of the lead carpenter, assigned himself as her go-to guy. He knew the town well and assured her he could procure whatever she needed.
Today they were working on the exterior paneling, the Mann with the vertical beams in letter K. Carla was upset when Falcon decided earlier he wanted the beams stripped away opting for wooden claddings to replace the Ks.
Carla argued about the historical significance of the K style. Falcon was adamant.
“I don’t need to have my virility announced to the world. I know who I am,” he dismissed her argument.
Carla conceded and offered an alternative of decorative wood designed clads. It would make the house look more modern and yet retain the timeless appeal of wood.
Falcon agreed.
But it brought a particular problem. She needed a specialized band saw to make sure the wood fitted perfectly. The workman insisted that on using a traditional wooden saw. Carla tried to explain thru Hans that it wasn’t as precise as a band saw. The argument went back and forth with Hans trying desperately to get her message across. Carla threw her hands up in frustration.
The poor boy tried to diffuse the situation by promising he would scour the whole of Alsace till he found what she needed.
Carla had no cause for complaint. They were on schedule and the house was slowly taking shape. But she felt frustrated at not being able to say exactly what was on her mind. She and Falcon had settled down to a routine where he either stayed around or left after breakfast and retuned to have dinner with her. It irked her that he was mum about what he did in town and instead spent dinners talking about her progress.
He disappeared again earlier and Carla assumed he was headed back to town.
> “He probably has a French girlfriend hidden somewhere,” she grumbled.
The thought was so unappealing she scowled.
“Something wrong,” Falcon asked appearing suddenly.
“Oh! I thought you were gone,” Carla replied taken by surprise.
“No, I’m here. But you didn’t answer my question.”
Where do you go each time you leave?
But she had no right to ask that.
Instead she said, “I was in argument with your carpenter. I never realized the French are so obstinate. Maybe it has something to do with me being a girl. They can’t accept being bossed around.”
Falcon laughed out loud. “The men are actually in awe of you.”
“Humph!”
“They are,” Falcon insisted. “They call you the Iron lady behind your back.”
Then he came close. “When was the last time you took a break from all these?”
“I’ve been to Alsace a couple of times,” She replied. She didn’t admit she hoped she would run into him there.
“Its so small you must have seen everything a couple of times already.” His eyes twinkled. “I have an idea that will make you feel better. Why don’t we go back to Paris today?”
It’s a 5-hour drive, you know.” Carla dismissed the suggestion thinking he was just teasing.
“less than an hour if we take the chopper, or have you forgotten?” Falcon replied earnestly.
“But-but I can’t just leave,” Carla argued. “There’s so much more to do.”
“It’ll still be here when we return and I think you need a break.” Falcon replied.
Suddenly the thought of being back in Paris sounded exhilarating. She still had reservations about skipping work and stood there undecide.
“If you’re not ready in 5 minutes, I swear I’ll take off without you,” Falcon warned.
It was enough to send Carla flying towards the stairs, when a thought struck. “What do I wear?” She had no idea what his plans were.
“Just grab your purse or whatever it is you women think important,” he replied.
Carla did as she was told noting that she had on a pair of ripped jeans and a simple shirt. She chucked the working shoes she had on and exchanged it for a pair of sneakers. If they were going to do a lot of walking, at least she was ready, she thought.