by Kenya Wright
Louis cleared his throat. “Perhaps, this is a good time to end the conversation—”
“You think you can start a war with me?” Celina touched the center of her chest and laughed. “I suggest you get on the plane, before I press on my panel some more.”
I pointed to her imaginary panel and pushed at invisible buttons. “Every person that dies after this moment, their blood is on your hands.”
Rafael leaned my way and whispered, “What are you doing?”
I growled and lowered my hand. “Pushing her panel.”
She giggled. “Very cute. But if you proceed and cause a war with me for no reason—”
“Eden is a reason for war.”
“If you do this, then the blood will be on your hands too.”
I grinned. “But I like blood, Aunt Celina.”
Her expression cracked.
“Be careful.” I stepped back. “There are always casualties in wars, and I like you. Stay safe and get better men. Ones that shoot when they aim.”
I walked away.
Celina called out to me, “Go home and enjoy Paris, Jean-Pierre. Paris has nice weather at this time of year. And don’t return. This is as nice as America will be for you from now on.”
The band’s volume rose. The saxophone overplayed his notes, but it didn’t matter. She hadn’t rented them for their skill.
It took everything in me to head to the plane.
We climbed the stairs as Celina’s band continued to play J’ai Deux Amours.
Thank you, Celina. You did teach me a lesson.
The door closed.
“So, we’re heading back to Paris?” Rafael asked.
I turned to Rafael. “Tell the pilot to head to Moscow.”
His voice went up an octave. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I want to kill some Russians.”
“You know that Celina is right.”
“About what?”
“Paris does have nice weather at this time of year.”
“Fuck that. We’re going to Moscow.” I walked off and headed to the room that I usually used on Rafael’s plane far in the back where no one would bother me.
Rafael called back, “Do you really want to start a war over Eden?”
I slammed the door behind me, hoping that was message enough.
Chapter 27
Whispers of Russians
Eden
Jean-Pierre never brought up our conversation by the pool.
“I have no plans of letting you go, Eden.” He slipped his fingers through my hair. “Now, whether you decide to go is your decision.”
Something outside of us was happening that kept taking away his concentration on us. Whispers about Russians and war flowed throughout the penthouse. When I came close, his men went quiet.
Remember. Mind your business. None of this has anything to do with you.
Meanwhile, the second week began like the first. Romantic. Enchanting. Jean-Pierre continued to amaze me. And I did my best to come up with surprises.
We rock climbed on Tuesday. Neither of us had done it. However, Jean-Pierre proved to catch onto it with ease, while I struggled to get half way up and then shrieked at how high we’d gone. He helped me down as I trembled like a bumbling idiot. No judgement. No jokes. Just concern and kisses that made me forget why I’d been afraid with him in the first place.
Rain returned on Wednesday. This time we didn’t stay inside. I took Jean-Pierre to the Belladonna Art Museum. Louis had helped me rent it for two hours.
Hand-in-hand, we sipped wine and savored the art.
I squeezed his hand. “Let’s play a game.”
“Okay.”
“In each room we enter, we both have to choose a piece of art that reminds us of the other.”
“I like this.” He increased his pace. And within that building the little boy returned. Only Jean-Pierre could take a silly game and make it a serious competition. Jean-Pierre raced into the rooms—at times before me. Out of breath, I would laugh at his craziness. Once, he made Louis block the entrance, so he could have a five-minute head start at the art.
And I couldn’t be mad at him as I doubled over in laughter. “You’re a horrible cheater.”
“You’re better at this than me.”
“I’m not.”
“The pieces you choose are perfect.”
“You too.”
It was true.
In the romanticism room, he’d compared me to a forest nymph. The paint strokes made her so real. Devoted emotion decorated her face.
In other sections, he pointed to nude sketches of queens, goddesses covered in gold, temptresses leashing tigers. Every woman held a high place in the image. They were always the focal point of the artist.
How can I compete with that?
On Thursday, I woke up without him in bed.
My phone rang.
I picked it up. “Hello?”
“How are you?” Shalimar asked.
“Everything has been going well.”
“Clearly, I haven’t heard from you.”
“What about Aunt Celina?” I asked. “Has she gotten suspicious?”
“No.” Shalimar’s voice lowered. “She had to leave for a few days. Something about a friend who lost a nephew.”
“Where did she fly off too?”
“Prague. They’re going to have the funeral for the nephew in a week, but he wants to hold some sort of funeral ceremony.”
“How old is the nephew?”
“Why?”
“It sounds sad.”
“Don’t be too sad. The nephew was a grown man, and very dangerous. A Russian guy that they called the Lion. Kazimir something.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And my aunt knew his uncle?”
“Yeah.” She cleared her voice. “Celina knows a lot of people.”
For some reason, the Russians kept popping up on my radar. Now Aunt Celina had a connection to one of them. She’d never said anything about it before. However, she always kept that side of her secret.
The uncle of a known violent Russian? At least she’s busy. I won’t have to keep thinking up lies or avoiding her.
“Let me know when Aunt Celina is due to come back,” I said.
“I will.”
“When she does, I’ll meet with her for lunch or something.”
“Uh.” Shalimar paused. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Of course.”
“Would Jean-Pierre appreciate you meeting with your aunt?”
“I have free reign and there’s no limits to where I can go. And he definitely won’t mind me talking to my aunt.”
Shalimar remained silent.
“What?” I asked.
“Everything is going. . .decent. I think we shouldn’t tempt fate for now. Let’s just enjoy Celina being gone and deal with it later.”
I shrugged. “That’s fine.”
“So…catch me up.”
There wasn’t much I wanted to say to Shalimar. I had her involved to help me protect my interests. I kept out any intimate details and did a summary of the dates, wondering if she had some extra tips to keep this experience going well for Jean-Pierre.
“So, what else should I do?” I asked.
“I…wouldn’t have thought of half of those things.” She laughed. “Stick to what you’re doing.”
“Good.”
“Any problems from his men? Any feelings of being unsafe?”
“Rafael. . .” I looked around and made sure no one was near. “Rafael puts me on edge, but I should be fine.”
“Rafael puts everyone on edge. Stay away from him as much as possible.”
You don’t have to tell me twice.
I finished with Shalimar and then practiced on Eros the rest of the day. The penthouse had gone empty. Not even Louis had stayed. Two unknown guards followed me around as staff served lunch and then afternoon tea.
I hope everyone is okay.
I ate dinner alone
that night.
When I went to bed, Jean-Pierre still had not returned.
I woke to breakfast in bed, but no Jean-Pierre or sound of the other men.
By lunch, I paced back and forth in front of Jean-Pierre’s office, worried out of my mind. While it wasn’t my place to get in everyone’s business, someone had to tell me everything was okay. I’d heard a Russian screaming before. Was that related to why he was gone? Did they get him? Are they making him pay? What about this top Russian guy being killed? Did any of this have anything to do with Jean-Pierre?
My hands shook at my side.
I wasn’t supposed to care. My job was fucking and making him happy. Nothing else. Still, I trailed through the house, jumping up at any possible sound of a door opening. When the butler brought dinner, I politely declined.
Again, I went to bed alone.
I was close to yanking my hair out and screaming his name. Instead, I masturbated to his image and fell asleep.
The next morning a package sat on my bed in the spot where he should’ve been.
I don’t want your presents, Jean-Pierre. I want to know you’re okay, and I want you next to me.
It was a huge box, about three feet high. Crimson red paper covered it. A silver bow lay on top. I tore through the wrapping off and slung the bow on the floor.
A phone sat on a massive white gown.
What?
The phone rang.
Must you be so dramatic?
Excited, I picked it up. “Hello?”
His sexy voice came on the line. “I’m sorry. I was in a situation where I could not get a message to you.”
While the tone held that same lush sound, there was pain and disappointment lingering in the statement.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I held the phone, left the bed, and walked over to the window. “I missed you.”
“I missed you too. The staff said you played Eros all day yesterday.”
“Yes.” I gazed out of the window. “Eros and I had a wild passionate affair.”
“Hmmm. Eros is lucky that he’s only a violin.”
I grinned and then lost the humor of the moment. There was a reason he didn’t stand in front of me. Something bigger was going on. He’d changed the phone too. Was someone listening to his conversations on the other one?
I leaned my head against the window, letting my forehead touch the cold glass. “Jean-Pierre, is there anything I can do?”
“Yes, mon amour, but I wasn’t sure if you were ready to oblige me.”
“Try me.”
He replied with a weak chuckle.
“What do you need, Jean-Pierre?”
He sighed. “I’m in Europe.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You are?”
“Yes. . .and at the moment,” His voice sounded strained. “At the moment. . .I should not fly.”
He’s hurt. How did he get hurt? And where in Europe? Why is everyone flying to Europe?! It’s this Russian stuff.
Jean-Pierre grabbed my attention. “Eden. . .I was hoping you. . .”
“Yes?”
“I want you to come here. Everything is in place, if you say yes. Shalimar has been made aware of the possibility and has delivered your passport to my staff.”
I opened my mouth but had nothing to say.
“Eden?”
“Uh…yes…I can go. It’s just. Well, where am I going? For how long? And are you okay? Is it safe?”
He laughed. “We will meet in Paris and you will stay for as long as you want. As far as safety, it will always be safe with me. I would never put you in any danger.”
I let out a long breath, noting that he didn’t answer the question about him being okay.
“Will you come to me, Eden?”
“Of course I will.” I bit my lip.
“I’ll have my staff pack your bags, make the arrangements, and bring you here. Everything will be taken care of.”
“Thank you.”
“That gown in the package.”
“Yes?” I smiled.
“I want you to wear that for me on the first night I see you.”
“And what do you want me to wear under it?”
“Nothing. Not anything at all.”
I swallowed. “As you wish.”
The rest of the day, I rushed with packing and coordinating with the staff. It was almost like I was pretending to be the lady of the manor. They came to me for choices on this or that.
“Would Jean-Pierre like… ?”
“Should we also include…?”
“What wines would Jean-Pierre want with his meals?”
By the evening, I rode in the limo to the airport with my passport in my purse. My nerves flared on edge. It was the first time I would be leaving the country. While I’d always dreamed of traveling to France, I had no idea it would be this week.
And what about earlier?
I’d dialed Shalimar to discuss the trip and tell her thanks for my passport.
A message came up that her phone had been disconnected. Thinking that I’d called the wrong number, I tried again and again, getting the same message.
What’s going on?
My gut said that the trip might not be a good idea. Something had happened in their world where people were flying to Europe and being more careful with their communication. Aunt Celina had rushed off to Prague due to her friend losing his dangerous nephew. Jean-Pierre and his men had gone missing, only to get back in touch with me today from France.
And now Shalimar had gone silent.
Every sign screamed that I should stay in America and think this through further.
But something deeper moved inside of me.
Jean-Pierre had been gone for too long and he sounded like he was in pain.
He wasn’t my man. I wasn’t supposed to be concerned.
But I didn’t know how to turn that part of me off.
I have to see him. I want to make sure he’s okay. I’m going to Paris.
Chapter 28
Midnight in Paris
Eden
I flew first-class. The flight went fine. Even though anxiety messed with me, I managed to sleep the whole time. Jean-Pierre’s butler remained by my side. A team of guards always followed.
When we arrived at the hotel, butterflies fluttered in my stomach, only to die, when I realized Jean-Pierre wasn’t there.
Stanley gave me a weak smile. “Louis explained that Jean-Pierre will meet you at the restaurant this evening.”
“Okay. Thank you. What time will that be?”
“11:00pm.”
I wanted to scream in my head.
Calm down. You’re acting like you’re addicted to him. Am I? Yes, Eden, you are. We’ll just deal with it later. Get that good counselor that Shalimar talked about.
I checked my watch. It would be six hours until I met with Jean-Pierre. “Well. . .I have a lot of time to relax.”
“You do.” Stanley gestured to the guards. “They’ll walk with you anywhere you want to go.”
I spent most of the hours strolling through Paris with my eyes widened in amazement.
The weather was warmer than Belladonna.
I enjoyed the sun and how all the bright flowers glowed in the light. Sunshine sparkled on the café terraces of Boulevard Saint-Germain. An enchanting mist rose from the Seine River and shrouded Notre-Dame Cathedral. The city oozed a magical ambience that romanced me, just as Jean-Pierre had done each day we spent together.
The charm of Paris rested in the small details—the cobblestone streets and manicured trees, the tea salons and brasseries. I strolled into an avant-garde art gallery and loved the pieces.
Although I wished Jean-Pierre shared these first moments of Paris with me, the time had re-inspired my lifelong love affair with French culture.
Wow.
I returned to the hotel, showered, and then dressed.
The gown was more elaborate than I’d assumed from the firs
t look. It was white, strapless, and molded to my body. When I walked, a long trail of soft fabric slipped along the floor. And last but not least, a diamond corset hugged my center and made an extravagant statement.
At his request, I wore nothing under it.
I swept my hair into a sleek updo and wore the small diamond drops he’d delivered along with the gown. To my surprise, a make-up artist came in later, painting my face and making every feature come alive.
When I finished, I went downstairs.
The sun had begun its journey to sleep. Still, the sky hadn’t darkened completely. Bright orange, yellow, and blue rays layered the romantic city.
A white limo waited outside. I’d been relaxed as I prepared myself for our reunion, but once I entered the limo my nerves unraveled. Finally, after all this time I was going to see him.
I hope he’s okay.
The limo drove through Paris’s bright streets and then stopped at the city’s iconic structure. The Eiffel Tower soared high above me in all its glory.
The limo stopped right next to it. I had no idea
Stanley had rode along and sat in the passenger seat. He opened my door, guided me forward, and took me up on the elevator.
I’m on the Eiffel Tower! Holy shit.
The ride proved exhilarating. We rose well over a dizzying two hundred meters. I stiffened and did my best to not look down. We stopped at the top level. My heart came close to stopping. While it was thrilling to be so high above Paris and witnessing such a panoramic view, the heights terrified me.
The doors opened.
I stepped off.
Stanly remained on. “The hostess will guide you in.”
“Thank you.”
A woman stood in front of me. Blonde waves teased her shoulders. She wore a stylish knee-length black dress that showed off her curves. She smiled and spoke in French. “We’re still getting ready.”
I stumbled with my response, hoping I’d said the right French words. “No problem. I can stand and enjoy the amazing view.”
She nodded and walked me into a private room. Large windows served as the walls. Paris sparkled and glittered all around me. The space gave me the best view in the city. Only one table sat in the small room. A soft pink cloth covered it. In the back of the room, two servers set out dishes and uncovered trays of simmering food. A savory aroma drifted from them. Men carried in large vases stuffed with long stemmed roses and began lining the room. On the right, a man sat down at the piano and tuned the keys.