Avery was listless as they waited, but Emma did her best to keep her daughter’s spirits up. She seemed deep in thought, however, and finally voiced what was on her mind.
“Why doesn’t Daddy ever come to see me?”
This question added to the grief Emma already carried.
“Well, he’s very busy with his job.” It was the weakest of excuses, but it was all she had to offer her daughter.
“Does he love me?”
Emma didn’t know what to say. She’d tried to reassure Avery on this matter before, but the girl could obviously tell something was missing. If Brice did love his daughter, he rarely did much to show it.
“I love you, Avery. Very, very much. More than anyone else in the world.”
“Even more than you love Cole?”
She jerked in surprise. Because of Jacqueline’s death, she hadn’t had to answer too many questions from Avery concerning Cole. When Avery asked why he hadn’t come by to visit them that week, Emma had said that he was busy at the office, and Avery hadn’t asked again.
“I don’t love Cole like I love you,” she said, brushing the hair back from Avery’s forehead.
“But you do love him,” Avery countered.
Emma had no reply to this. She did love Cole. The past week without him had been the most miserable she could ever remember spending in France, even worse than the week after she and Brice had decided to divorce. She’d told herself it was because of her grief over the loss of Jacqueline and her job. And even though it was true, she suspected she was grieving for losing Cole, too.
“Maybe you and I should go away for a while, hmm? We could take a trip to Oregon. Wouldn’t you like that? You could finally meet your great-aunts and uncles, and I have a lot of cousins who would probably love to get to know you.”
Avery looked up at her with eyes that had aged just a little bit more than Emma would have liked in the past week. “I miss him.”
“Who?” She knew the answer, but she asked anyway.
“Cole. He makes you laugh. You haven’t laughed at all since Grand-mère died.”
“I loved your grandmother, Avery. It’s hard to laugh when I’ve been missing her this week.”
Avery looked away, and they fell silent once again as they waited for the family to return from the graveside. After that, they all convened at Jacqueline’s house for a memorial gathering. They mingled and remembered, and Emma felt out of place. She had known these people once, but she was no longer a part of their lives. It got her thinking.
She thought about her job, and the loss of it and her future. What was left for her in Paris? Why had she stayed as long as she had in the city? She loved it, true. It had become home to her, and she couldn’t quite imagine leaving it behind. She supposed she could find another job. If not in the recruiting sector, then certainly in management or human resources. She could start anew in the City of Light.
But what about Avery? Would her daughter be better served spending some time in America? Emma still had family there. Her parents were gone, but she still had extended relatives she kept in touch with. Avery had never met any of them. Perhaps it was time she did.
Avery clung to her during the gathering at Jacqueline’s house. She didn’t mingle with the others; she knew them even less than Emma did. Jacqueline had been the one who’d stayed in touch after the divorce. She had loved her granddaughter and, by extension, Emma. And Emma had loved her. But now that she was gone, what sort of ties did Avery still have to these people? What sort of ties did she have to Brice?
She was still considering this question when her ex-husband approached. He patted Avery on the head, an awkward gesture, and she slipped away from his touch, moving toward the hall and, if Emma could guess, Jacqueline’s bedroom.
“Thank you for coming, Emma,” Brice said. “I know she would have appreciated it.”
“She was always so kind to me,” Emma replied. “I’m going to miss her very much. She made me feel welcome in this country. I don’t think I ever told her that. I wish that I had.”
Tears filled his eyes. “I suppose we all have things left unsaid.”
“I suppose.” They stood there, and though Emma should have felt uncomfortable, she didn’t. “Brice, could we go somewhere to talk? Privately?”
He nodded and began to direct her to the balcony. His face was so lined with loss that she couldn’t tell if he was uneasy about her request. Once they were outside, he closed the door behind them. A breeze had picked up since the services at the church, and she shivered slightly, folding her arms across her midsection.
“I lost my job this week.” She hadn’t intended to start so abruptly, but once the words were out, the rest came easily. “I’m thinking of moving back to the States. It might do Avery good to meet some of her family there.”
There was a small bistro set on the balcony, and Brice reached blindly for one of the wrought-iron chairs before sinking into it.
“You would leave Paris?”
“I don’t feel like there’s much here for me anymore.”
They were silent for a time.
“I’m sorry that you lost your job. You always seemed to be Julien’s favorite. What happened?”
“A misunderstanding. One that can’t be fixed.”
“Do you need money? I could give you some.”
This offer startled her. Brice occasionally provided support for Avery, even though she had never asked him to. She had always supposed he did it out of some sense of obligation, but she never pressured him about it. She had chosen to keep Avery, even when he had made it clear he didn’t want a child. She didn’t necessarily feel it was right to ask him for additional support.
“I’ll be all right. I have some money set aside. It should hold us for a little bit, provided I tighten up my expenses. I’ll probably have to contact the agency about transferring Avery’s au pair to another family.”
“Melanie? Avery likes her very much.”
Again, Emma was surprised, both that Brice knew Melanie’s name and that he was aware how much his daughter liked her current caretaker. She supposed Jacqueline had told him and wondered just how much her former mother-in-law had shared with him over the years.
“I think...” She wasn’t exactly sure how to say this next part. “Maybe... I might need you to sign away any rights to custody, if I want to go back to Oregon. I didn’t think it would be a problem, since, you know...you never really see her anyway.”
He sighed. “Emma—”
“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m just stating the facts. You’ve never shown much interest in Avery, but I want everything to be done as legally as possible.”
He was silent for a very long time. Emma pulled out the other bistro chair and sat, waiting for him to work through what she’d said. They didn’t see each other often, but she knew the distance this move would place between them was something he probably had to think about.
“What if things...changed?” He looked at her. “What if I change?”
She felt a faint unease. “What do you mean?”
He looked away again. The breeze continued to blow, and she realized her nose was becoming numb. She wondered if she could be back in America by Christmas, if she and Avery could spend the holidays in the States.
“What if I wanted to get to know my daughter?”
Nothing he could have said would have surprised her as much as this question did.
“Excuse me?”
“My mother adored Avery. She was always telling me stories, about things she said or did. I ignored her. I thought she was trying to make me feel guilty, for our divorce, for not wanting to be a father.” He placed his arms on the table between them and studied his hands. “And I’m not much of one. I know that. I’m not sure I ever will be because it’s not some
thing that comes naturally to me.”
He slowly lifted his eyes. “But perhaps it’s time to try.”
She couldn’t stand the regret in his expression. She stood and paced back and forth across the tiny balcony. “Brice, you can’t do this to me now. I just decided to leave the country, and now you’re asking something that would require me to stay.”
“I know. I suppose I’ve always been too selfish where you are concerned. But she is my child, too.”
“She shares your blood, but that doesn’t make her your daughter. You weren’t there. You didn’t hold her when she cried. You didn’t get up in the middle of the night to feed her. You didn’t even change a single diaper, Brice! And now you want to be her dad?”
He looked chastened by this rebuke. “I know, Emma. And if you truly want to leave Paris and move back to America, then...I will not stop you. But, please. I would like the chance to know her. I’m asking you to stay. I will help you find another job, if you want. I will loan you money. But don’t take her away. Not just yet.”
She wanted to be angry with him, wanted to rail at this new hitch in her plans. But she couldn’t. It was the only thing she’d ever wanted for her daughter, to know her father.
“What does Christine have to say about this?”
“I think she understands. She’d like to get to know Avery, as well.”
Emma had no more reason to fight him on this. “All right. I’ll stay in Paris. We’ll work something out for Avery. But you can’t break her heart, Brice. If you stand her up even once, I’m putting a stop to it.”
“I understand.”
She sighed. She suddenly missed Cole. She wished he were here with her, or at the least, she wished she could call him when she got home, tell him everything that had happened today. She wondered what he had been up to in this past week. Had they promoted Marc to her position at Aquitaine? Despite what she had said, she wished Cole would call her. She supposed she could have called him, too, but she wasn’t sure what she’d say if she did.
Brice had stood. “I better get back.”
She nodded. “I should find Avery. We’re taking the train back tonight.”
They stared at each other, a trifle self-consciously.
“I’m sorry about your job,” he offered.
“Thanks. But I think your loss was greater than mine this week.”
He nodded. Before they turned to go, he touched her arm. She looked back at him.
“You deserve more, Emma. So much more than I ever gave to you.”
She tried to smile, but for some reason, his words made her want to cry instead.
* * *
COLE HAD STACKS of paperwork waiting to be addressed, and he couldn’t find an ounce of incentive to work on them. It had been a long and frustrating week at the Aquitaine offices. Lillian was determined to forge ahead with Emma’s replacement while Cole battled with her to have a couple of weeks to sort things through and consider their best options. Julien said little during these discussions, leaving Cole and Lillian to circle round and round without reaching any conclusion on the matter.
She hinted at the truth during these arguments, that Cole had become too personally interested in his managing director to be able to make the necessary decisions now that she was gone. While Cole could agree with that accusation up to a point, he also knew that it was more than his attachment to Emma that made him reluctant. She had been good at her job, and replacing her would be more difficult than Lillian realized. He and Emma had made a good team, and promoting Marc, or anyone else, was not something he wanted to rush into. If Emma needed to be replaced, he wanted to choose someone who could measure up to the standard she’d set.
He tried to explain this to Lillian, each time they debated the matter, but he feared he made little headway. Lillian wanted things settled in Paris. She wanted the Reid and Aquitaine merger to continue to take root. But you couldn’t force something to happen by sheer will. He told her so, though he feared he had come perilously close to crossing the line on that one.
She had left him alone for another day, to contemplate the matter, but had informed him that she expected his decision by Monday.
He stared at the stack of files in front of him but couldn’t will himself to reach for one. He was wondering about Emma and what she’d been up to in the past week. Had she interviewed for a position at Léon Professional yet? They’d be foolish not to hire her; her track record in the field was impeccable, not to mention how quickly she’d advanced. And if they had no scruples about Solene’s dubious tactics then surely they’d have no issue with why Emma had been dismissed from Aquitaine. If not for him, she’d be sitting in this seat right now, CEO of the entire Paris branch for Reid and Aquitaine. Perhaps Emma’s life would have been better if he’d never come to France, if he’d rejected the ultimatum from Lillian and let things play out on the other side of the ocean. Too late now for such musings, he decided. And besides, selfish though it might be, he didn’t think he’d have changed coming here for anything. This city, for as much as he’d resisted it, had captured his heart. He had spent the past week viewing it through eyes that no longer held blinders. He saw it as Emma did, as Ophelia must have once seen it, a timeless blend of ancient and modern, classic and contemporary. There was no other city on earth like this one. Paris was the place he’d sworn never to accept, and not only had he learned to call it home, but he had found love here, as well.
He turned around in his chair to look out over the La Défense district with its high-rises and forecourt featuring fountains, sculptures and the Grand Arch, its symbol of hope.
Where was his symbol of hope? He had begun to put down roots in this place, had opened himself up in ways he had never dared to before, and what did he have to show for it? He had lost the two people who had begun to matter more than anyone else.
What good was it to love a city if there was no one in it who loved him back?
Before he could contemplate the answer to this question, a beep sounded from his phone’s intercom. He turned around and pressed to answer it.
“Mr. Dorset, there is a woman in the lobby requesting to see you.” He experienced a swell of hopefulness. Emma? “Send her up.”
There was hesitation on the other end. “She’s been banned from the offices here as a security risk.”
Emma. It has to be Emma.
“I’ll vouch for her. Send her up immediately.”
“If you say so, monsieur.”
He stood, uncertain. Should he greet her at the elevators? Wait for her to come to his office? Better to meet her when she arrived on the floor, so she wouldn’t have to face any of her former coworkers.
He hurried from his office, smoothing down his hair as he stepped into the hall. Several employees greeted him, and he nodded briefly to each, careful not to linger lest they try to engage him in conversation.
“Going somewhere, Cole?”
He halted at the sound of Julien’s voice.
“Yes. Well, no. I’m...meeting someone.”
Julien waited for a more thorough explanation. Cole felt a ripple of unease. How was he going to explain Emma’s arrival to Julien? Lillian had banned her from the building, and Cole had just defied that mandate by telling them he would vouch for her presence.
“Are we expecting a client?” Julien prompted.
Cole shook his head. “No, it’s... No. It’s Emma. She’s on her way up.”
Julien’s eyes widened, but before he could react further, the elevator door chimed. Cole turned, a smile on his face, but it wasn’t Emma who stepped off the elevator. He hadn’t met this woman before in his life.
The mystery was soon revealed, however, as he heard Julien say the arrival’s name.
“Solene.”
* * *
HE HAD EXPECTED Julien to rail, perha
ps even call security. He had heard the rumors about Solene Thierry and the bitter parting between her and Aquitaine, and of course, there was her involvement in the pilfered candidate lists. But Julien made no protest, even when Solene announced she was there to speak with Cole.
Perhaps he was simply weary of seeing people dismissed from his building, or maybe he was curious what had brought Solene back to the office. In any case, he suggested they head to the conference room for some privacy. Already, prying eyes were staring in the direction of the elevators.
“The conference room is this way,” Cole directed, but her eyes narrowed at this.
“I know perfectly well where it is.”
“Oh. Right.” Of course she would. She had worked here for years. He tried to surreptitiously study her as they made their way down the hall. She was a beautiful woman, with a classic French profile, and wore a business suit that hugged her curvaceous frame. Her posture was stiff and erect as they moved along, but it was only once they were in the conference room with the door closed that she dared to speak.
“I came to talk with Cole, Julien. Not with you.”
“Despite the fact that my company has merged with another, these are still my offices, and you came here,” Julien reminded. “So your business is as much with me as it is with him.”
She clicked her tongue in annoyance and moved around the table dominating the room to take a seat. She swiveled it around, studying the room, and then stopped to look at them.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Julien, nor has the office. You always were a creature of habit. Didn’t I tell you it pays to be open to new ideas?”
The Paris Connection Page 21
