by K Larsen
Chapter 8
Celeste
Paris 1985
The fall semester ended without fanfare and Celeste was relieved to have the summer at her disposal, as was Gabriel. He would, of course, still be burdened by full-time work, but her evenings were now free allowing them to spend more time together during the week on a consistent basis.
The bar that Matteo, Mara and she were currently sitting in was filled with students letting off steam at the completion of the semester. Mara was waving over a tall, dark, sexy man as Matteo headed toward their table carrying three drinks.
“Who is that?” Celeste asked.
“That, fine stud muffin is Charles. My date for the evening.” Mara winked and Celeste doubled over with laughter. Another unsuspecting soul was about to be claimed by her best friend. Mara had the love life of dirty pair of underpants. She was always changing men.
“Charles, this is Cece,” Mara introduced. Celeste stuck her hand out. He took it and firmly shook.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“I wish I could say the same,” she replied. Mara kicked her under the table which made her giggle. Matteo slid in next to her and pushed everyone’s glasses to their appropriate owners.
“Matteo,” he said to Charles, a cigarette dangling effortlessly between his lips.
“Charles,” Mara’s date for the night replied.
Their booth was small. Matteo was close enough that whenever he moved, his shoulder brushed hers. His warmth radiated from him. Charles and Matteo struck up an easy conversation allowing Celeste to really look at him and Mara for the first time in months.
He was bigger now somehow, filled out, more manly looking. His expression was droll as he listened to whatever Charles was saying. Sitting smushed between him and the wall Celeste was relaxed; Matteo was as comfortable as her favorite pair of jeans. It was a strange thing to think about. She pushed the thought aside and watched the women moving about the bar. Jealous, catty glances were shot her way. If they only knew Matteo wasn’t with her. No doubt they would be all over him. How did he not notice?
She turned her attention to Mara who was gawking at Charles. She looked happy and content, an expressions she didn’t often have in the company of her date-of-the-week. She watched as Mara sighed and took a sip of her drink before resting her hand casually over Charles’ bicep. A claiming move. A move unlike her dear friend. Mara played the aloof game often and men ate it up, loving the chase of the seemingly unattainable, but not now. Now Mara appeared love-struck. Celeste realized with a hint of anxiety that she hadn’t exactly had much time to sit and gossip with Mara lately about life. Could she really be falling for this man? She filed that away for later when they were home alone and could talk and laugh well into the night. She needed to find out what was up with Charles.
After the group’s third round, their fourth appeared at the table. Celeste felt the tell-tale signs of being one foot in the land of the buzzed and the other foot firmly planted in drunk land. She leaned her head on Matteo’s shoulder, and in return he placed his lips on her hair and kissed her. Not with romantic intentions—no, with friendly affection, as if to say: I know you’re here. It made Celeste giggle. Matteo would be so damn perfect for some woman. She wished he’d find that person already. She giggled more as she ticked off women she knew who she might introduce to him. As she ran through the mental list she found something wrong with each, or something that he would find wrong with them. It was totally inappropriate laughter bubbling out of her yet she couldn’t stop it.
“You alright?” Matteo asked, drawing Mara and Charles’ attention to her as well.
“I’m fabulous. Finals are over and there are only two, count ’em one,” she held up a finger, “two,” she raised another, “semesters left until we graduate!” She was pretty certain that the word graduate came out more like graayouate. She was in need of water at this point. Mara and Charles chuckled and Matteo excused himself to procure a tall glass of water for her.
“I need to tinkle.” She giggled. Mara outright laughed at her declaration and nodded for her to go ahead.
Celeste wobbled for a moment when she stood. Gathering her wits she, rather ungracefully, made her way to the restroom in the back of the pub. The line, thank God, was short. She was in and out in less than ten minutes. She fumbled her way back toward the table but before she got there a strong arm wrapped around her and tugged.
“Épouse-moi,” marry me, he said. Celeste felt her brows lift and her eyes grow wide. Gabriel’s grin widened. She couldn’t help but be swept up in his dimpled smile. His carefree expression was mesmerizing. Hell, everything about him was mesmerizing.
“Gabriel,” she squealed while she threw her arms around him.
“I’ll ask you every day until I wear you down and the only logical answer becomes yes.”
“I’ve heard that line before,” she answered, snorting.
“I know what I want, Celeste.” Celeste thought about his words, his game, and decided to play along.
“What about next month? Next year? Twenty years from now?” she asked just as she had more than a year ago.
“Je vous veux,” I’ll want you, he answered. The conviction in his voice still made her heart slam against her ribs. She loved this man.
“How are you here?” she asked.
“I came to find you. You said you’d be here with the gang after finals.”
“I’m glad you’re here. I think Mara might actually be in love.” She laughed at the thought. “You have to meet him!”
As Celeste tried to right herself and pull away from Gabriel she lost her grip on him, or he lost his grip on her, and she slammed ass-down on the floor. When she burst out laughing Gabriel stood and grabbed her hands.
He helped her to her feet, and then kept his hand at her elbow as they walked to the table. She thought how lucky she was that Gabriel was so gentlemanly and chivalrous. Her stomach almost erupted with butterflies from the gesture because it was intimate and familiar and sexy. She was so lucky.
“Maybe we should just head home,” Gabriel offered. She shook her head no and he sighed at her before grumbling about something she didn’t catch.
“Matteo! Mara! Look who I found.”
“Gabriel, glad you could join us,” Mara greeted. “This is Charles.” The men shook hands and lifted their chins at each other. Celeste took the opportunity to chug the entire glass of water Matteo had placed on the table.
“I was just saying I should take Celeste home. She’s . . . drunk.”
“Oh come on,” she whined.
“I think it’s probably for the best,” Matteo weighed in.
Celeste suddenly found herself the subject of scrutiny as three faces all watched her for signs that it was indeed time for her to leave. She felt like a scolded child. She wasn’t drunk. She wasn’t exactly sober either but she didn’t need to go home.
“Fine. Let’s go.” She tugged Gabriel’s arm to get him moving. Mara called out for her not to be such a bad sport but Celeste was past that point. She was definitely a poor sport at the moment, it was evident in the way she stomped to the door. “Your place or mine?” she asked agitated.
“Ours.”
“Gabriel, I’m not in the mood for your shameless plug for a joint home,” she pouted.
“If you’d stop being an idiot for a moment and pay attention . . .”
“An idiot?” she screeched. Her arms flailed wildly as she let off a string of curses at her boyfriend. When she was done and silence surrounded them, she found Gabriel smiling. Smiling.
“What’s your deal?” she asked still angry at everyone’s babying treatment of her.
“My deal, Celeste,” she loved the way her name dripped from his lips, “is that you are ruining a perfectly magical night.”
She scoffed. “I am not. What is so magical about tonight?”
“This,” he said.
Taking her arm he led her. She followed in sile
nce completely confused. He walked her two blocks to the garden where they’d first met. The more fresh air she took in the less buzzed she felt. Standing under the arbor at the entrance he asked, “Tell me what you see.”
She took a moment to look around. “I see lights, in the garden. But . . . but it’s closed now.”
He led her into the garden park towards the lights until they were in the exact spot they’d first met. The only things missing were the dance floor, bar and tables. And guests of course. She smiled up at him. This man. He was almost too good to be true.
“Celeste, mon amour, I’ve been trying to figure this out for some time now. Nothing I dream up is quite right though. I admit, as a last resort I called in some favors.”
“Favors from whom?” She asked.
Matteo, Mara and Charles stepped from behind a tree across the open space. Celeste gasped. Lights twinkled overhead and a waltz started abruptly. Naturally her head turned to find the source of the music. Matteo held a boom box on his shoulder. He looked ridiculous but adorable.
Turning back to Gabriel she smiled. “Just one dance?”
“No Celeste, je veux que tous d’entre eux.” I want all of them. He kneeled before her and pulled a small velvet box from his pocket. “Épouse-moi.” Marry me, he asked.
Temporarily ignoring the ring, Celeste sank to her knees in front of him. The moment felt like a scene out of Sixteen Candles. Excited tears dripped down her cheeks. She was flabbergasted. They’d discussed moving in together but not marriage. Shock and joy coursed through her.
“Oui, cent fois oui,” yes, a hundred times yes, she cried.
Matteo, Mara and Charles clapped and whooped in delight as Celeste and Gabriel shared a passionate kiss that seemed to seal their fate. Gabriel’s hands tangled in her hair, his lips on hers. She was cherished, he gave her his heart and they would build their own world, their own happiness. He ended their kiss reverently placing soft kisses at the corners of her lips.
“Show us the ring!” Mara whooped. Celeste laughed. Gabriel stood with her and tucked her into his side. She plucked the large solitaire from the lush padding and held it up to inspect it. The inside of the band glinted in the light. She squinted and inspected it more: à une vie de découverte, to a life of discovery. She glanced up to Gabriel, not understanding.
“You are the key to a life of discovery.” He touched her necklace. She swooned.
This man, the one who held doors, made love to her, who was playful, demanding and thoughtful, was going to be her husband. “It’s perfect,” she breathed. Gabriel slid the ring onto her finger. A perfect fit.
Celeste extended her hand to her friends. Mara made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded odd as she examined the ring. It wasn’t easy to surprise or impress her. Gabriel had done an excellent job choosing. Matteo clapped Gabriel on the back before pulling Celeste into a tight hug and whispering, “I’m happy for you fiore mio.” She squeezed him back hard. Now he just needed to find the perfect woman.
“Congratulations,” Charles offered.
All four heads turned to the stranger of the group and they promptly burst out laughing. Having Mara’s new date sharing in the very private moment was completely absurd and totally welcome. The tape in the boom box stopped and with it the music.
“Excuse me, everyone, while I whisk my fiancé away to properly celebrate her acceptance,” Gabriel stated.
Charles laughed and Mara elbowed him in the side. He looked to her with a look that screamed What’d I do wrong? Matteo laughed at the two of them before she and Gabriel quietly snuck away.
~***~
Where are we going?” she questioned as they passed her dorm, then Gabriel’s apartment.
“Shhh, mon amour, don’t make me blindfold you,” he threatened playfully.
“I could still talk with a blindfold,” she deadpanned. He chuckled, filling the car with the deep sound.
“Touché. Maybe a gag would suit you better.”
“I’m hurt!” she feigned offence.
“We’re almost there. I promise,” he said. He took her hand and brought it to rest on his thigh. She loved that he did that. Always in contact somehow, always wanting to be connected. It was endearing.
Almost there in Celeste’s opinion and almost there in Gabriel’s turned out to be two very different things. They drove to the opposite side of Paris and into an adorable small neighborhood made up of beautiful houses that had plots of land with them. A place like this would be the best place to have a garden of her own and still be fairly central to all the happenings in the city. In biking distance from Pantheon and Luxembourg Gardens, she would be able to cruise the Seine for an intimate look at the city, people-watch at a sidewalk café with a pain au chocolat on the beautiful Left Bank or simply wander through the streets when it the mood struck.
Gabriel pulled into a small driveway that accommodated his car but not much more. What was he up to? He motioned for her to stay put so she did. She watched as he jogged around to her door and opened it for her. He looked like he could grace the cover of a magazine even in his faded jeans with a hole in one knee and his black V-neck sweater. He led her to the bottom step of the tall, narrow house.
“Gabriel?” she questioned.
He folded in half and scooped her up bridal style. Taking the stairs slowly she clung to his warm, firm body. At the door, he dug one hand in his pocket while holding her and unlocked the front door. Celeste had no words. She wasn’t sure if this was a rental for the night or if Gabriel had done something much, much more permanent before knowing if she’d have said yes.
“I kind of always wanted to do that,” he admitted as they stepped into the foyer.
She met his eyes. “What?”
“Carry you over our threshold,” he whispered.
“Our?” she asked.
“Ours,” he stated firmly.
“Like, to rent?” she pushed.
“Like we own,” he clarified. Shell-shocked, Celeste turned her head a fraction to the left, then right, before her lips tipped upwards into an enormous grin.
“Oh, oh oh oh,” she panted. Celeste was at a loss for words as he spun them around slowly giving her a glimpse of the house. This was theirs. Theirs. Hers. His. She could hardly catch a breath.
“I hope oh is a good thing.”
“The best,” she answered peppering his face with small kisses.
“No, the best is waiting,” he said. He set her down and with a smile that showcased his dimple he her tugged hurriedly down a hallway to a set of French Doors. Pushing through, she followed him outside. She watched as he searched around for a moment, one hand fumbling against the outside of the house. His brow was furrowed and he huffed as he tried to find it. He looked adorable.
Suddenly lights flicked on and filled the space with a soft ambiance. Celeste gasped at the perfection that was their back yard. She stepped from the small deck down two steps to the grass in a trance-like state trying to take it all in. Trees lined the property giving them ample privacy. The rest of the space was vast and untouched. She could create the most beautiful getaway here. One lone potted plant sat in the grass near her feet. Gloxinia.
“I hear it means love at first sight or something like that.” Gabriel’s voice rang out in the quiet night. It surrounded her, enveloped her entire body and made her feel warm and fuzzy.
“Gabriel Fontaine, I think it’s time for you to make love to me.” She crooked a finger at him beckoning him to her.
“Here?” he asked pointing to where she stood. Celeste felt bold and lust-drunk. She nodded yes and smiled coyly. He all but bounded down the steps to her. She laughed as he tackled her to the ground gently.
Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip gently as he rocked his hips against her with slow, but aggressive, abandon. The moon illuminated the inky black sky. The grass was cool against her back and the stars overhead shone brilliantly. He moved over her fluidly. Touching all the right spots. A firm but gentle lover
. His rhythmic thrusts hurdled her into oblivion until she was no longer thinking, just reacting, primal in nature, to the motion of his body and the touch of his hands.
In the moment she fell apart beneath him, she knew her life consisted of what sayings were coined from, because this was as good as it got. She clung to him, letting the waves of pleasure crash over her, not wanting the feeling, or him, to leave her. She wanted to live in this moment forever, or at the very least, capture it and stow it away deep inside her heart. Something in her soul told her she’d be full of these moments in the years to come. That Gabriel would fill her up to the brim with happiness, love and joy. She clung to that thought as he kissed her again.
Chapter 9
Annabelle
“And then you walked through the door. And my life turned black.”
~ L’ame Immortelle—Betrayal
“So he proposed when she was drunk?” Annabelle’s words reeked of disdain as they cut through the air.
“Well, hate to break it to you kid, but not all proposals are picture perfect. But, I will say this, she’d only had four drinks before Gabriel swooped in to steal her away, and there was plenty of time walking to the garden for her to sober up a bit.”
“I still think it’s lame. He should have waited.”
“Well, what’s done is done—can’t go back and change history, now can we?” Jezebel answered.
Annabelle shrugged. “Nope.”
“What are your plans for this week?” Jezebel asked.
“I don’t know. It seems I’m single, grounded and pathetic.”
“Buck up child. Your life is not over. You should be happy that you ditched the loser before it got serious. I’d say you dodged a bullet.”
Annabelle smiled. Maybe the woman was right. “Yeah, probably,” she admitted.
“Not probably—absolutely. Now, indulge me, what do you do while you aren’t visiting me?”
“School and homework. I need a hobby or something to keep me busy at home.”
“Music! Listen to music. Dance around and be silly.”
