As long as he learned of the discovery, and appropriate action was taken, she could keep this to herself for a while longer.
She nibbled her lip raw as she weighed these options.
“It cannot happen again, Henri. We minimized the fallout this time, but you cannot sell any more names to Solene. I mean it, nothing.”
“I will not. No more.”
“And you have to promise me that you will come forward as soon as the custody battle is finished. If you don’t tell Julien at that point, I will.”
He gave another swipe of his head. “I give you my word. As soon as things are decided, I will confess and resign, if that is what Julien requires.”
She held his gaze, searching to see if she could take him at his word. When he didn’t turn away, she nodded.
“All right.”
“You will say nothing, then? You won’t tell anyone, not even the American boss?”
“Cole?” She faltered. She didn’t like the idea of keeping secrets from Cole.
“I know you are close to him, but I beg you, please do not tell him it was me.”
She frowned. “Why do you think I’m close to him?”
“Because I have eyes. Anyone can see how he watches you when you don’t think he’s looking and how your face lights up when he comes into a room. The two of you talk to each other as though you understand one another.”
Had her coworkers noticed this? Or was it simply Henri, who had more opportunity to observe them as he went about his tasks around the office?
“He should know,” Emma spoke, her voice soft. “I don’t like not telling him.”
Henri took a step toward her, his expression desperate. “Please, no. He would not understand, Emma. You know that he would not.”
She didn’t know any such thing. Cole had proven himself more kind and compassionate than she could have imagined. But he had no children of his own. Despite his affection and care for Avery, would he be able to sympathize with Henri’s situation?
“Just a few more weeks,” Henri pressed, “and then I will speak to both Cole and Julien myself. I promise. Please, Emma. Think of what you would do, if it was Avery at stake.”
She hated how Henri knew exactly where her weak spot was, but he was right. For Avery, she would do anything.
“Fine,” she agreed, though she felt a stab of guilt at keeping this to herself. “I won’t tell Cole, so long as it doesn’t happen again.”
Henri’s face split into a smile of relief. “Merci, Emma.” He reached for her hands, and before she could pull away, he had raised them to his lips, dropping kisses across her knuckles. “You have always been the kindest of everyone around here.”
Embarrassed, she tugged her fingers from his. “Thank you, but remember what I said—it cannot happen again.”
“It will not, I assure you.”
She nodded. “All right, then. We won’t speak of it anymore. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get some work done.”
“Of course. Certainly.” He moved to the door, and she waited until she heard it click shut before she sank into her chair and released a sigh.
Her conscience still prickled with uncertainty, and she could only hope that she had done the right thing.
* * *
COLE KNEW HE was in trouble when he began counting the hours until he and Emma left for the recruiting conference. The prospect of five whole days, including travel time, with her pleased him far more than he would have liked to admit. After all, Emma had made her position clear on the night he’d kissed her. She didn’t want to pursue a relationship.
Since that night, he had been vigilant in guarding his heart. He had no plans to fall for another woman who didn’t want to be with him, so he reined in any feelings he might be experiencing for Emma and kept things friendly without making any attempt at something more.
But the more time he spent with her and Avery, the more difficult he found it to limit his emotions. When he was with the two of them, he had a sense of belonging that he’d never experienced before. And when Avery would reach for him or place her tiny hand into his, he found himself melting with tenderness. He felt a protective instinct where Emma’s daughter was concerned, one that had begun to extend to Emma herself.
Cole had never been much of a protective sort. He had grown up in an environment where he had only himself to look out for, and if he didn’t watch his own back, no one else would. But for the first time in his life, he had the urge to watch over another, to shelter and care for someone else. He wanted to be there for Emma and Avery, to shield them from whatever might come their way. To put it simply, he wanted to be a more permanent part of their lives.
But he was not foolish enough to confess such feelings to Emma, for fear she would shut him out like she had the night of their kiss. He kept things easygoing, exerting a tremendous amount of effort in maintaining a facade of camaraderie instead of genuine caring.
So he’d known he was in trouble when Lillian had announced their spot at the conference, and his heart had tripped over itself in his chest. Just him and Emma, all those hours working together on their presentation, then in each other’s company on the plane and during their time at the conference. He could barely contain his excitement and had to work doubly hard not to appear absolutely giddy at the idea.
Emma’s unease over their seminar helped him to keep his own reactions in check, at least. He watched her fret and fuss for the two weeks leading up to the conference, eyed her with amusement as she kept reviewing her notes on the plane and had to resist touching her in reassurance when they arrived at the Towers Resort in Manhattan and her hands trembled as she accepted the key to her room.
They spent the first night in the city at the orientation and reception for the conference, mingling with fellow colleagues in the recruiting field before calling it a night and heading to their respective hotel rooms. He called Lillian, who had remained in Paris with Julien, to let her know they had arrived safely and were all set for their presentation. The next day was filled with networking and seminar events, a catered lunch and an evening’s entertainment—a well-known stand-up comedian who specialized in corporate humor.
Emma begged him to forgo the show in favor of reviewing their presentation once more. Since he’d barely had five minutes alone with her since their arrival, he was more than happy to agree to this suggestion.
They each gathered their notes and settled into Emma’s room to review the talking points. As the hour dragged on, he watched Emma’s anxiety rise. He did his best to reassure her.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he said.
“But what if I freeze up there? What if I can’t remember which PowerPoint slide goes with which topic? What if someone asks me a question, and I don’t have the answer?”
She fanned through a sheaf of papers while he stared in disbelief. He had never seen Emma so rattled. “You’ve given presentations dozens of times, to clients, to employees.”
“I know, but not like this. Not in an auditorium full of peers. It’s different.”
He couldn’t help being slightly amused at her insecurity. “Emma, you’re going to do fine. You’re very capable, and I don’t have a single doubt that you can do this.”
A faint relief entered her eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” He didn’t normally allow himself to touch her, but he told himself that just this once wouldn’t hurt. He reached for her hand and drew it into his, smoothing the pad of his thumb across the ridges of her knuckles. Her fingers tensed and then relaxed under the soothing ministration. “I wouldn’t let just anybody share a podium with me. Lillian may be tough, but she’s also smart. She knew you could handle this, and I know it, too. You’re good at what you do, Aquitaine. You might as well show it off.”
She laughed softly, and the sound
made him happy.
“I guess I do make you look good.”
His heart lifted. “You make me look very good. We’re an effective team.” He locked eyes with her, his thumb still running over her hand. He watched as her expression shifted and then let go of her hand.
“We know this presentation front to back. Let’s take the night off.”
She frowned. “I’m not really interested in seeing that comedian.”
“That’s not what I meant. Let’s go out. You’ve spent the past few weeks showing me everything there is to love about Paris, so why don’t you let me return the favor? You’ve never been to New York, and I only have a couple of days to show you what you’ve been missing.”
She hesitated. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t we make sure everything is ready for tomorrow—”
“Emma.” He grabbed her hand again. “You’re going to do just fine tomorrow. But who knows when you’ll get to the city again? Come on. Let me take you out. Just this once.”
He tried not to sound too pleading, too desperate for some one-on-one time that didn’t involve spreadsheets and talking points. He could see her wavering.
“We can look for a souvenir to bring back for Avery.”
At the mention of her daughter, she relented. “All right. That’s a good idea.”
* * *
HOURS LATER, EMMA couldn’t help marveling at how different she felt from earlier in the day. Most of her tension had dissolved, and she was feeling relaxed and carefree. It amazed her that Cole had known exactly what she’d needed to feel better. He had taken her to dinner at one of his favorite Manhattan restaurants followed by dessert at the infamous Serendipity 3. They’d stopped in a few shops, where Emma had picked up a couple of trinkets for her daughter. Cole had insisted on buying Avery a teddy bear wearing a sparkly tutu and T-shirt that said Broadway Star. They had wandered the Museum Mile and ended up at Central Park, where the autumn air had tinted the leaves’ edges with color.
He compared it to the Square des Batignolles, discussing which features he liked best about each place. They talked about all the places in Paris she had taken him to in the past month, and she realized, quite unexpectedly, that Cole knew this was the way to still her uneasiness about tomorrow, to remind her of home and the places she loved best in all the world.
As they walked through the park, it occurred to her that Cole had come to know her far better than she would have expected. He had seen her at her best and at her worst, and he still seemed to genuinely like her. More than that, she had the sense that he wanted to spend even more time with her. There would come a point when she would have shown him everything in Paris she thought he should see, and then what? There were the surrounding cities, day trips and the countryside, but eventually, she would have to make a decision on just how she was going to keep Cole in her life, outside of work, if she didn’t want to pursue a relationship. Could they be just friends? Did she want to be just friends with him?
She knew the answer before she’d even considered the question. She wanted to know Cole better, to keep him in her life, and in Avery’s life. But it dawned on her that for as well as he knew her, her likes and dislikes, she still knew relatively little about him.
She spotted a bench up ahead and walked toward it. Without asking any questions, he followed, and they settled onto the bench before she turned to him.
“Cole, why haven’t you ever told me more about yourself?”
He didn’t quite meet her eye. “What do you mean? I’ve told you plenty of things.”
“No, you haven’t,” she argued. “I know about how you came to Paris, about how things ended with you and Ophelia. But I mean before all that. Like, where did you grow up? Where are your parents? What do they think of you moving to Paris? Who did you leave behind in the States when you moved abroad?”
He stared at her for a long moment before he looked away. “It’s not important.”
“What do you mean? Of course it’s important.” She drew a breath and then released it. “You matter to me, and I want to know.”
She watched him carefully as he stared straight ahead as if debating how much to tell her. “No one.” When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
“What?”
He looked at her, his hazel eyes darkening to a caramel-brown. “There was no one I left behind.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t have anyone,” he explained. “I was a foster kid, shuffled from home to home growing up. I was in and out of so many places that I can’t even remember most of them. They became a blur after a while, an endless routine of boxed macaroni meals and packing my bags for the next house. I changed so many high schools that I can’t tell you the names of more than half of them. I was just one more kid in the system, one more mouth to feed, one more number in a long list of them.
“When I was old enough, I began looking into my records, curious about my background. Every kid in foster care had a story, but I didn’t know mine. When I finally tracked down the original paperwork on my case, I knew almost less than when I started. My mom was fourteen when she had me, just a kid herself. She was a runaway living in New York, and there was no information on her real name or where she’d come from. She died of a heroin overdose a year after I was born. There was no father listed on my birth certificate, so the trail went cold from there. Even my name isn’t my own. I chose Dorset because I thought it sounded more sophisticated than my own background. I had it legally changed when I turned eighteen.”
A lump rose in Emma’s throat at these confessions. She never would have guessed these things about Cole. It amazed her how much of himself he’d been able to keep hidden from her. She felt the full weight of what he must have experienced as he relayed his story and longed to reach for him but didn’t in case he would stop speaking.
“I learned a lot growing up in foster care, about people and the way they think. When I graduated high school, I decided I would take what I’d learned and use it to make myself better, to make sure I never had to rely on anyone else again. I never went to college. I just began applying to recruiting firms as soon as I could. Eventually, one of them took me on, and I worked hard to learn everything I could about this business. From there, I joined a bigger firm and then a bigger one until I had a strong track record behind me. That’s when I applied at Reid Recruiting. I don’t know what she saw in me, but Lillian was impressed. After she took me on, I had nowhere to go but up, and I never looked back.”
Emma digested the rest of this brief history. “Then, you really have no one? No siblings, no parents?”
He shrugged. “No one. And you know the saddest part?” He caught her gaze with his. “I told myself it never mattered to me...until I met you and Avery.”
Emma’s eyes burned with suppressed tears.
He sighed and looked away. “Listen, Emma, please don’t be freaked out by this, but I want you to know that these past weeks in Paris, with you and Avery, have taught me more about family than I ever thought possible. I never knew what it was to belong somewhere, to feel a part of someone else. But when I’m with the two of you, I feel like that. I know it will never be anything more,” he rushed to assure her, “but for what it’s worth, I’m really grateful to you. You’ve given me a new sense of hope that maybe I can find that feeling again someday.”
She felt emotion rising up in her at his honesty. Cole always seemed so confident that she had never guessed about this particular vulnerability of his. He wanted a family of his own; he had just never known it before this.
Her silence must have made him uncertain because he moved away from her on the bench. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all that. I promise you, it’s not going to interfere with our working relationship.” His hazel eyes burned with desperation, his need to convince her. His golden hair fell across his forehead, and
without thinking, she reached forward to brush it back. When she touched him, he stopped talking, frozen in place.
Awkwardly, she pulled her hand away and placed it back into her lap. “It’s all right. I’m...glad you told me. That’s a lot to keep to yourself.”
“I’ve never told anyone before,” he admitted. “Not even Ophelia. She knew I was an orphan, but I never told her the rest of it.”
Her lips parted in surprise, and she realized then just how much she must mean to him, if he could share with her a past he had never even told the woman he’d been prepared to marry.
“Cole, what if—” she started and then stopped.
“What if—?” he prompted.
“What if something changed? What if it was possible for us to...you know.”
Her blood coursed faster as he smiled. “I’m afraid I don’t know. You’re going to have to enlighten me.”
He inched closer on the bench, closing some of the distance between them. Her breath hitched in her chest. “What if it was possible for us to...see each other?”
His lips twitched with what she assumed was amusement. “It’s perfectly possible. I see you right now.”
“No, not like that.”
“You mean, as in dating?”
She knew he was enjoying this, her difficulty in finding the right words. But his enjoyment didn’t bother her in the least. “Yes. What if I said I’d like to consider a relationship?”
“Aquitaine, are you asking me out?”
She rolled her eyes, and he laughed. “If your ego needs to hear it, then I suppose...yes. I’m asking you out.”
He closed the final gap between them, his hip coming to rest against hers. He shifted and moved his arm around the back of the bench so that she could feel his fingers playing along her shoulder. She felt a surge of nervousness at the close proximity, at the subtle scent of his aftershave and the warmth of his body beside her.
The Paris Connection Page 18
