Lust in Translation

by Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Still, he needed to free her from the clutches of the matrimonially inclined, if only for a moment. Armed with a glass of wine and the program from the wedding ceremony they ran through at the speed of light before dinner, he made his move.

  “Excusez-moi. Avez-vous besoin de l’aide?” Hopefully this clown wasn’t invited to the bachelor party. He’d have to keep up the I-don’t-speak-English routine all night.

  Jaime turned in her seat and stared up at him, her jaw dropping open. “Est-ce une blague ou quoi?”

  He shook his head. If this was a joke, it wasn’t a funny one. The idiot still sitting at her left tilted his head, blatantly ogling her cleavage where the neckline of her dress dipped low. An evil thought crossed Xavier’s mind. Might as well say exactly what he was thinking. It’s not as if the guy next to her would know he was propositioning her. “Je veux coucher avec toi.”

  She shot daggers at him with her eyes, but turned to the greasy-haired lump. “It was nice meeting you, Ed. If you’ll excuse me, I need to help translate a few things for Trent’s best man.”

  “Sure, sure.” The idiot’s gaze dipped into the danger zone again. Classy this one. “I’ll give you a call. Show you around town.”

  Xavier pulled out Jaime’s chair and she stood. “Thanks for the offer, but like I said, I grew up here.”

  The cretin said something more, but Xavier took Jaime by the elbow and led her out of the banquet room. Just outside the doors, she shrugged him off, elbowing him for good measure.

  “I’m not sleeping with you again, and you can cut the I-don’t-speak-English act. You’re as American as I am, remember? What would you do if all of the sudden I started speaking only in Spanish?” Fire danced in her brown eyes, flickering like the flame of a candle.

  He stepped closer, taking a deep pull of her spicy perfume into his lungs. The caramel colored dress she wore clung to her every curve, reminding him of the smooth coffee she’d made for him in Chicago. Her dark-chocolate hair hung like a sheet over her shoulder. He reached to touch it and she whipped her mane behind her back.

  “Listen―”

  “No, you listen. You needed saving, princess. You could say thank you. Merci, gracias, arigato, spasibo. Take your pick.”

  “I can handle myself, and I am not a princess.” She crossed her arms across her chest, which had the delightful effect of pressing together what the jerk had been ogling. Except noticing that didn’t make him much better than the creep, did it?

  “That’s a term you have, isn’t it? Jewish-American princess?”

  “Oh, screw you. I am not a spoiled princess.” She tilted her head towards the closed doors, making him wonder if she was thinking Allison was a JAP.

  “You should be treated like royalty.”

  She rolled her eyes. “By you? Please. I know what the French do to their royalty. No thank you, merci, gracias, arigato, spasibo. You take your pick.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “I did not.”

  “You speak Russian.”

  “Oh for goodness sakes, Xavier. I know the basics in a dozen languages. Washington, DC is a very multi-cultural city.”

  “So is Paris. I know you could find a job there easily. You could even work for Marie-Chloe as a translator.”

  “Why?”

  “Why not? You have no job, no house, no car. You are completely free. There is nothing to keep you here.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “It’s the ideal time for a fresh start. You helped me on our trip. I’d like to help you. I didn’t mean to insult you last night, but you misunderstood me.”

  “You want me to move to Paris, give me an apartment and you don’t expect me to sleep with you?”

  “Of course not.” A look of pain crossed her face. That simple look hit him with the force of a sucker punch. “I mean, we’ve had a wonderful time, but the offer is not contingent on anything. No strings attached, I promise.”

  Jaime raked a hand through her hair. “You know, without strings puppets can’t dance, violins can’t play a note and kites would just fly away. Thank you for the offer, but I can take care of myself.”

  …

  “This is just like when we were kids, isn’t it?” Allison curled to her side, facing Jaime on the big bed in the darkened room.

  “Yeah, you still won’t go to sleep.” They erupted into giggles, just as they had every time they’d slept in the same room for the last two decades.

  “I’m too excited for sleeping. In less than twenty-four hours I’m getting married.”

  “Yes, honey, we know.” If she weren’t so darned cute about her enthusiasm, it wouldn’t be so endearing. Still, Jaime was secretly glad she hadn’t arrived earlier. It would get old fast. “You’ll be getting married with dark circles under your eyes if you don’t get some rest. Do you want me to find you a sleeping pill?”

  “No.” Alli rolled to her back and stretched her arms overhead. She stayed silent for exactly seventeen seconds. “You realize what I’ll be doing at this time tomorrow?”

  “I make it a point not to think about it.”

  “Because you’ll be sleeping alone?”

  She rolled her eyes, thankful for the cover of darkness. “No, because you are my baby sister. You can get as freaky as you want, but in my mind you’ll forever be eight years old.”

  Allison turned to her side again. “Who am I supposed to talk to about that stuff? Mom is useless.”

  Jaime had to agree. She’d gotten the sex talk from her stepmother in Mexico. When she’d decided to sleep with her college boyfriend, she’d tried to ask her mother about birth control, but she’d been shut down cold. Thankfully, Carla was a wealth of information and had been able to walk her through everything. Even practiced by putting condoms on a banana.

  “Why are you laughing?” Allison propped herself up on one arm.

  “Will you be using condoms?” The giggles bubbled deeper.

  “No. It’s pretty hard to get pregnant that way.”

  They both laughed so hard they started to roll from side to side. Every time their eyes met they started laughing anew. They couldn’t stop until a knock came on the bedroom door.

  “Some of us have a wedding tomorrow.” Their mother stood in the doorway. “What has you two so excited?”

  “Should I tell her?” Alli’s expression was the picture of innocence, which made Jaime start to laugh all over again.

  “Girls, we’ve had a long day. If you can’t sleep, at least keep it down so your father and I can.”

  “Yes, Mom,” they said in unison as their mother shut the door.

  “You’re going to get grounded,” Alli said, lying back on the bed.

  “Not happening. I’m running away.” Jaime settled herself between the sheets.

  “Don’t remind me. You’ll be gone by the time we get back.”

  She’d need to be. The school year would start soon. “I’ll be close enough to visit, and we’ll get to spend the winter break sunning ourselves in Arizona at the folks’ new place.”

  “You maybe. We still have to spend the holidays with Trent’s dad.”

  “It’s Arizona. He’ll gladly tag along.” Jaime yawned, hoping Alli would catch the hint. She’d had a long day of pampering, followed by a frustrating evening with Medford’s most eligible bachelors, and one ineligible bachelor she needed to get out of her thoughts.

  “Jaime, can I ask you something?”

  “Can I stop you?”

  Allison lowered her voice to a whisper. “On the trip out here, did something happen with you and Xavier?”

  “What do you mean?” She’d made it a point not to lie to her sister her whole life. Her parents she had no problem telling a revised version of the truth to, but she was always straight with Allison, hoping someone could learn from her mistakes. But with Alli getting married, Xavier Moreau wasn’t the kind of mistake she was likely to make.

  “You don’t talk to him. I’d think you would, you’re
always so friendly and you did spend a couple weeks together. And then there is the way he looks at you.”

  Damn it. She told him not to look at her like he knew what she looked like naked. That look always melted her resolve, and had caused quite a few people along the journey to think they were together.

  “He propositioned you, and you turned him down, right?”

  “Propositioned? Allison, you sound like Mom.”

  “Okay, fine. Be that way.” Allison rolled over, giving Jaime her back. “I was just concerned he’d acted inappropriately.”

  Sometimes she felt like Alli was the older sister, the together sister. If there was more time before the wedding, she’d lay everything out and get some help sorting through this mess she’d made. But as it stood, she couldn’t let her problems get in the way of the big day.

  “Did you like any of the guys you met tonight?”

  “They were all very nice.” Jaime stared at the ceiling, recalling when it had been painted bubblegum pink. While she was in college Allison had grown up and changed everything to the color of toast.

  The bed shifted as Allison rolled back to face her. “But you didn’t meet anyone special tonight?”

  “Not really.” No one special who wouldn’t be thousands of miles away in two days. She prayed she’d get over Xavier as easily as she did the other men in her life. She had a sinking feeling that because this felt different, so much bigger, it would be that much harder to move past. She’d never felt like she’d lost so much before, but a niggling voice in her head kept urging her to run to him and take him up on his offer, no matter the cost to her career or self-esteem when he moved on and she was alone in a new country.

  “Alli?” Jaime whispered, hoping by some miracle her sister had actually passed out and wouldn’t answer. “How did you know Trent was different than the other guys you’d dated?”

  “I knew right away.”

  Great. Love at first sight. She’d lusted after Xavier’s toned body and sexy accent, but what she felt now had come on slowly. “Okay. Then for sure I met no one special. No fireworks at first glance.”

  “I don’t mean I knew I would marry him or anything, just that there was something special about him that drew me in. It still feels that way, like I can’t get close enough to him.”

  Adrenaline pulsed through her veins. That described how she felt exactly. She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down. She’d been jumping at every whim since some idiot stole her car, and she needed to get back to feeling like herself. A woman who weighed the options and made smart choices, not snap decisions.

  “Do you think it’ll still feel that way, you know, after the wedding?”

  “I hope so. It sounds like a wonderful way to feel.”

  “No.” Alli playfully hit Jaime’s arm. “I mean, you know. After. Once we’ve been as close as we can be.”

  Her eyes grew heavy and it took a moment before she trusted herself to speak without giving herself away. Love felt even deeper after. But she couldn’t explain that without having to admit to herself what she felt for Xavier. Putting it into words might make it impossible to give up.

  “You’ll have to tell me, Alli. But you’ll be too tired to find out if you don’t get some sleep now.”

  …

  By three in the morning, Xavier had piled the last of the bachelor party participants into taxis and sent them on their way. He and Trent were the only ones who’d held on to any semblance of sobriety through a day that had started before dawn.

  Even Jaime couldn’t have scheduled more in a day. They’d been white-water rafting, on a brewery tour and played a round of golf in the twilight. He’d never been so thankful as when Trent’s younger brother got thrown off the course for driving a cart into a tree.

  American men seemed to have a penchant for golf, cheap beer and scantily clad women. The bar they’d spent the evening watching baseball at was stuffed with waitresses whose swollen breasts threatened to topple over mugs of beer with every turn. Enjoyable, until he’d gone to the bar for another round and the bartender told him she was working her way through college to be a teacher.

  Like Jaime. Had she worked in a place like that where the men ogled with thinly veiled lust in their eyes?

  He made his way back into his hotel suite where Trent lay stretched out on his couch. He stirred when Xavier closed the door.

  “Thank God that’s over,” Trent said, rubbing his eyes. “I was on edge, expecting a stripper to pop out from everywhere.”

  “I promised you no strippers, though the waitresses at the bar weren’t wearing much more.”

  Trent groaned. “And I lost a hundred bucks at poker.”

  After the bar closed they’d all come to his suite for a few hands and a bottle of whiskey. “You’re not getting it back either, no matter how you whine.”

  “I suppose I owe you anyway for bringing Allison her sister. I really thought she’d be able to get you here sooner. Usually she goes through life like it’s a race and she has to be the first one to cross the finish line.” He slumped back against the couch cushions.

  “She’s just trying to make everyone happy.” He walked to the bar and poured himself two fingers of bourbon. He needed to be able to sleep without dreaming about her, a feat he hadn’t managed since he set eyes on her.

  “Even you? I was shocked every time Alli would tell me where you were. You must have talked pretty fast to get her to agree.”

  “Well, I was driving. I got to point the car where I wanted to go.” Except when she drove, and got a ticket, and they wound up in a motel and everything changed.

  “She must have been pretty mellow. Usually Jaime is a force to be reckoned with. But then, maybe she just doesn’t like me.”

  “She loves you. I think she was nice to me because I’m your friend.”

  Trent cleared his throat. “Why did you take her all those places anyway? Every day, Alli had a different story about Mt. Rushmore and those haunted places―she even tried to explain that you went to the Stonehenge of cars. What was all that about?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” He drained his glass with a wince.

  “It was like you were taking a tour of America. What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing. Just a vacation.”

  “You usually vacation at resorts. This was different.”

  “Because you decided to get married. I’ve told you how tedious flying is now. Every time a plane makes a stop they have to check your passport. Driving was easier.”

  “There is something you’re not saying. I’m your friend. I know these things. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. There were just things I wanted to see, that’s all.” He sunk into the chair opposite Trent. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

  “I’m relieved it’s finally here. I’m telling you, man, if you ever get married, elope. Weddings are a bitch.” His voice went up two octaves. “What kind of cake do you want? Can you book the band? No, not that kind of band. You’re wearing what? What do you think of this tablescape?” He groaned, his voice coming back to normal. “Do you even know what a tablescape is?”

  “Don’t need to. You sold me on elopement.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, if it makes Alli happy I‘m all for it, but I’m more than ready for it to be over.”

  He leaned forward and planted his hands on his knees. “Trent? Does it feel different with Alli or are you just ready to be married?”

  “You think I’d be celibate for two years just because I wanted to get married?” Trent sat up straight. “You’re one stupid schmuck.”

  “Baise toi.” He smiled, wondering if Trent would recall how to swear in French.

  “Va te faire foutre. Who do you think you’re in love with?”

  “I don’t.” He scrubbed his face with his hands, the day’s worth of beard growth scratching his palms. It made him wonder if he’d scratched Jaime last night.

  He didn’t want to think of Jaime anymore.
/>   “You’ve fallen in love with someone.”

  “That’s as stupid as putting a handbrake in a canoe.”

  “Why? Because of your mother?”

  Everything in the room froze, even the air. “Don’t talk about my mother.”

  “Listen, Xav, I understand―”

  “You understand nothing.” He pushed out of the chair and walked to the window. He did not want to talk about it. It was almost a year later, and the wound of losing his mother still felt raw.

  “Okay. I get that you still don’t want to talk about it.”

  “There is nothing to talk about. My mother was ill, she died and life goes on. There is no point in dissecting and rehashing.”

  “All I’m saying is you’ve been different since the funeral. When my mom died―”

  “Zut! I said stop. Why do you turn into a woman when you drink?” He turned, expecting Trent to continue. Instead he found the man shaking his head and holding up his hands in surrender.

  “Look, if you ever want to talk, fine. If not, you stew in it. I just know that for me, it was hard to even think about losing someone I loved again. I thought if I didn’t let anyone in, then I wouldn’t ever hurt that way again. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t stay numb forever.”

  Trent rose from the couch and walked to one of the bedrooms of the suite, slamming the door behind him. Xavier shook his head and turned back to the window.

  What did Trent know anyway? A drunk driver had killed his mother instantly. He didn’t have to watch her be eaten alive from the inside out, watch her body dissolve into nothing. He didn’t have to sit at a bedside and realize life had moved by so fast he barely knew the woman he had to mourn.

  Since his mother died, Xavier hadn’t let his mind wander here. His sister had cried enough for the entire family, and he’d held her while she did, a hollow feeling growing inside. He’d hoped taking the trip to see all the things his mother had wanted to show him would fill up that space, and he’d succeeded. He hadn’t found his mother on the trip, but he’d found something that made his soul overflow with joy.

  Unfortunately, neither he nor Jaime were in a position to do anything about it. He couldn’t stay a minute longer than he planned. Marie-Chloe employed hundreds of people who depended on him to be there, not to mention his father and sister who relied on him as well. He had to leave, and Jaime wasn’t willing to go.