by Nora James
Jean nodded. “I am glad we are in agreement. It makes a lot of sense to negotiate with the government, especially since many of the previous government’s ministers have now been jailed.”
“Jailed?” Lara was surprised. She thought most would have been dismissed, not imprisoned.
“You have not heard? Of course, you were travelling. Ministers Hamed, Mahoul, Cheikhed, Abila and the Minister for Forestry, his name escapes me. All charged with corruption. Others have disappeared. Maybe the lucky ones. Maybe the unlucky. Time will tell.”
Lara rubbed her chin. With Hamed out of the picture it was a different ball game. The new government could turn out just as corrupt as the previous one, and more dictatorial, but there was still a good chance it wouldn’t. “I’m more and more convinced we should try to negotiate with the new government, as you suggested, instead of fighting to reinstate the title through the judicial system.”
“In that case, I’d like to commence discussions with the new government on your behalf today.”
“Please do that. It seems the best option right now. What about starting the recours gracieux at the same time?
Jean shook his head. “It may hinder talks with the new government.”
“I understand.” Lara bit her lip as she thought of just how complex and difficult the matter was. She sighed. It was exactly what her life had become. Complex, difficult and risky. That’s how it appeared to her. She didn’t just mean work. Sure, that fell within the description, but it also extended to her personal life. Her mother was waiting to hear if she had cancer again. If she did, Lara knew all too well it wouldn’t be an easy ride. There were no guarantees of success with the treatment. Just thinking about what would happen if she didn’t make it through made Lara nauseous. She saw a Christmas tree without a present under it for her mother, she saw a birthday party without Susan. It seemed impossible. It didn’t make sense.
And then, there were men. Her relationship with Tim had turned out not only difficult but also utterly unfulfilling. After what he’d done to her would she ever again be brave enough to go out on a limb for love? She wasn’t sure, although she couldn’t help the butterflies she felt every time Jack looked at her.
She glanced sideways at her colleague. He was as attractive as ever. His square jaw, his soft lips, seemed to be waiting for her caress. There was no doubt about it, he made her heart beat faster. She imagined the silkiness of his skin, remembered his warm, musky scent. She could lose herself in him. That was definitely too risky. He was a womaniser, after all, she reminded herself. He’d stolen Ange from Martin. It was what Martin said, and Jack had never denied it. If she was going to give herself to a man again, it wouldn’t be to one with a propensity to cheat.
“Is there?” asked Jean.
Lara jumped. How long had she been day-dreaming? It wasn’t like her. She really had to get a grip on things. “I’m sorry. It must be the jet-lag. You were saying?”
“Ah, jet-lag. I understand. As I was saying, I will prepare the written advice for you. In the meantime, is there anything I can do to make your stay in Paris more pleasurable?”
“Not at this stage, thank you. Unless you have any suggestions, Jack?” Jack smiled at her, the dimple she had come to love forming in his left cheek. She softened inside.
“No. Thank you.”
Jean escorted them to the entrance where he helped Lara put on her coat. “I will be in touch as soon as I have spoken to the Negalese government. In the meantime, if there is anything else I can do for you, please do not hesitate.”
They shook hands, exchanging best wishes, and Lara and Jack wandered down the shiny marble stairs and out into the cold Parisian autumn.
“I do, actually,” said Jack once they were outside.
“Sorry?”
“Have a suggestion to make our stay more pleasurable. Well, pleasant at least.”
Lara smiled briefly, and he thought, a little awkwardly. He was probably making her uncomfortable again. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was all he seemed to do to her these days.
“What would that be?” she asked rather quietly.
“We could try talking to each other.”
She pursed her lips, turning away briefly. “I know I haven’t been good company lately. It’s just that. . .”
She searched for words for so long he must have felt he had to help her. “Rough time at home?” he finally asked.
“You could say that.” Her blue eyes, usually soft and warm, now had the steeliness of pain.
Jack and Lara had come to a bridge, a magnificently carved old stone bridge that crossed the Seine River with the majesty no modern one could ever have. Tall, ornate street lamps lined it and benches in curved booth-like alcoves offered rest and recreation to the passer-by. You could sit there on a warm summer night and watch the world go by. The French knew how to live.
He grabbed her hand. “Please, let’s sit.” If he didn’t do it now, in this beautiful city, while he was alone with Lara, perhaps he never would. If he stuck his neck out, told her exactly how he felt, he might stand a chance. It was worth it, worth every minute of humiliation if she knocked him back. God, she was worth it all. One last try to clarify how she felt and where he stood. He owed that to himself, to Lara, to them.
As he pulled her gently towards a seat her phone rang. Suddenly, she was away again, in a different world, her face transformed the moment she answered. “Hello. So? Really? You’re not just saying that for me, are you? Oh, that’s the best news!”
She laughed out loud, a laugh that said “I’m on top of the world.” She glanced at Jack and he could see the joy in her pink cheeks, her sparkling eyes. She tossed back her golden mane, lifting her face to the heavens, as if to thank God.
“You have no idea how relieved I am. I’m so happy! I wish I could kiss you right now. We’re celebrating when I get back, you know that? In a big way! I love you so much.”
It was over for Jack. Lara and Tim were getting back together. He felt a crushing pressure in his chest. He had to run. He couldn’t stay there, listening to her chuckles, her whispers. What a fool he’d been! She was married. She might have gone through a rough patch with Tim, she might have taken off her wedding ring in anger, but she would put it back on. She was married.
“Romance? I, uh, I suppose you never know,” he heard her say next, as she threw him a cheeky glance. Was she teasing him? Showing off with her husband? How awful of her! How could she? Couldn’t she tell that it hurt Jack? Couldn’t she tell or didn’t she care?
“I’ll see you at the hotel,” he murmured before bolting like a wild horse. The wind whipped his face and his legs felt detached, as if they didn’t belong to him anymore. And what was this? He couldn’t believe it! Tears stung his eyes. He held them back. He hadn’t cried for years.
He heard the noise of the incessant traffic, saw the sky turn from blue to grey in an instant. Paris was suddenly harsh and cold, big and lonely. He wished he were home.
“Wait!” Lara screamed at the top of her voice. What had got into him? Jack had taken off without warning. She couldn’t understand it. One minute he wanted to talk to her, the next he didn’t. But the dread inside her had lifted since the phone call she’d been agonising over. She could see things clearly now.
It was as if someone had opened a tap and her feelings were pouring out of it, her feelings for Jack. If there was one man she could love in the world it was him. If there was one man she stood a chance with, it was him. What was that, she thought? If there was one man she could love?
She shook her head. “What’s wrong with you, girl?” she asked out loud. She did love him. She did! She ran as fast as she could. He had stopped at the traffic lights, waiting to cross. “Jack!”
He turned around. His eyes were red and swollen, his expression that of a little boy. She stopped. She had never seen him like this. Jack was so strong, invincible. Was he crying?
She caught her breath. “Are you all right?”
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bsp; He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. “I will be. I guess congratulations are in order.”
“Yes. Thank you. How did you know?” She figured he’d understood from the phone conversation.
“I can see it. You’re beaming. So, I’m happy for you. I can tell it’s what you wanted.”
“Of course it’s what I wanted. Who wouldn’t? You have no idea how relieved I am.”
“I think I do. It’s in your eyes.” The lights changed. He turned his back on her and started to cross.
Her phone rang. It was Jean. He told her of his first conversation with the new government. “Really? That’s excellent news, Jean! All right, we’ll talk again later.” She hung up and ran after Jack who was getting further and further ahead. “She caught up with him, panting. “That was Jean. The new government’s keen to talk. They even mentioned immediate reinstatement if we can agree on certain conditions. Isn’t that wonderful?” He didn’t answer. “Jack?”
He barely glanced at her. “That’s a great start.”
It wasn’t the reaction she’d expected. Perhaps the jet-lag had hit him and he really needed a break. “Do you want to grab a bite or a drink in a café? Or go to the Louvre?”
“The Louvre? God, you’re unbelievable! Give me a few hours, an afternoon to get over the fact I’ll never hold you in my arms, will you?” He stood still on the footpath, shoulders drooping, letting the busy city-dwellers push and shove their way past him.
Suddenly, he reached for her and pulled her close. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. I have to tell you. I love you. I’ve never loved anyone like this before.” He lowered his head, his lips finding hers instantly. His kiss was soft and warm, all spring and no autumn.
She kissed him back, her heart in her throat, tears now running down her cheeks. He left her breathless, and then stepped away. “I’m sorry if I crossed the line, but I had to have something of you. I’ll let you go back to your husband, now. Again, congratulations on sorting out your problems. I’ll leave Global Oil. You won’t see me again. You won’t have to worry about me.”
She stared at him in disbelief. What was he talking about? He was leaving Global Oil? And what was that he’d said as he’d kissed her? He loved her? There was so much she wanted to say to him, so much she needed to explain. “It wasn’t Tim on the phone,” she started with a sense of urgency.
“It wasn’t? I don’t understand.” His right eye was twitching.
“No, it wasn’t Tim. Tim and I are separated. It was my mother. She isn’t sick. I thought it was cancer again. It’s not. A benign cyst. That’s all it is. Benign!”
She laughed and yet another tear escaped, rolling off her nose as she looked down. She had a lot more to tell Jack, but there was so much happening at the same time. The joy, the relief at knowing her mother was safe, were overwhelming. And then, Jack had said he loved her. She was still taking that in.
He cleared his throat. “I’m so happy for you. And. . .so happy for me!” He chuckled as his big, gentle hand caressed her arm. Even through her coat it made her shiver.
When she looked up at him, his eyes were upon her, intense, jewel-like. She could see he was searching her face for clues. Her lip quivered. “You said you loved me.”
His gaze was tender, now. He leaned forward, so close to her she felt his breath and the warmth of his skin. “I do love you. I have for a long time.” He touched her hair with the lightness of a summer breeze. “What about you? Do you think you could love me? I know you might not be ready, it might be too soon, but I can wait. As long as it takes. If there’s a chance. That’s all I have to know. Is there a chance? Because I thought there wasn’t and it was killing me, just killing me.” He was rambling on, speaking faster, probably with excitement.
She nodded. She wanted to scream “I do, I already do”. Instead, she put her hand on his face. “There’s something I need to ask you, though.”
He whispered in her ear. “Anything. Anything you want.”
“About Ange.”
He stepped back, frowning. “Ange? What do you mean?”
She crossed her arms. Was he becoming defensive? Would she be able to trust him? A knot formed in her stomach. “Did you steal her from Martin?” She wanted to know because if she was going to be in this, it’d be for the long run. She’d want it to be forever.
“Do you really think I’m that kind of man?” He bit his lip. Lara was the woman of his dreams, but perhaps he wasn’t the man of hers. He tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter, that they’d build on whatever it was that they had. He couldn’t. He needed to feel that she held him in high esteem, as he did her. Her opinion meant the world to him.
It meant the world because if he was going to be in this it’d be for the long run. He wanted it to be forever. He asked the question again. “You think I’m that kind of man? It’s important to me that you understand I’m not.”
She looked into his eyes and saw nothing but kindness and respect. She had her answer. She dropped her head, chin to chest. “No. You’re not. I know you’re not.”
He thanked her with a smile. “I met Ange at a house-warming party. I’d never seen her before. You know me, not one for office get-togethers. I had no idea she was Martin’s wife. In fact, she’d already left Martin. They were separated. We went out to dinner once, nothing but dinner, and wouldn’t you know it, Martin arrived at the same restaurant with some friends. He made a terrible scene. Ange never told me who she was. To this day, Martin believes I was seeing his wife behind his back when I wasn’t. So there you have it. If it’s a crime to think someone’s unattached, really nice and to go out to dinner with them, I’m guilty. Because that’s all I did with Ange.”
Lara covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. I never should have thought badly of you. You just never defended yourself. Martin kept going on about it and you never really stood up for yourself. After what happened with Tim, well. . . all you need to know is that he betrayed me.”
He took her hand in his, gently rubbing her fingers with his thumb. She loved the sensation of it, how special it made her feel. It had been years since a man had done that to her.
“Look, I’ve told Martin exactly what happened on many occasions. It makes no difference. He doesn’t believe me, he never will. I guess he’s trying to hang onto the thought that she left because of me, not because of him. I can understand that.” He truly could. If he ever lost the love of his life, he’d probably end up as bitter and twisted as Martin. If he ever lost Lara. . .
This time it was Lara who drew Jack closer. She put her arms around him and let her lips explore his neck, up and down, with the fire of true love. When he couldn’t take it anymore he grasped her locks, gently pulling her head away and planted a kiss firmly on her lips.
“Wait!” She had taken a step back and was fumbling in her handbag. “There’s something I have to do. I promised Tim I would consider letting him come back. And. . .where are they?”
Jack’s heart sank. So things were still evolving with Tim. She hadn’t locked him out for good. She was considering letting him come back. Where did that leave Jack? Did she want a fling while she was separated? Just a fling? How would he cope with that? It wouldn’t do. It wasn’t enough. He loved her.
He was about to shake his head, to say he couldn’t, when she pulled two rings out of her bag: an engagement ring and a wedding band.
She stood on her tip toes, leaning over the bridge’s railing, her hair blowing in the wind. “Tim, I never break a promise. I’ve now considered letting you come home and here’s my answer.”
She threw the rings one after the other into the vast green waters of the Seine. They disappeared without a sound and she imagined them twirling their way down to the river’s bed, landing on a rock, a spectacle for the fish. Perhaps one day someone would find them, scoop them up in a net. Perhaps it would be someone in love with no money for a ring, and the jewels would bring more joy than they had ever brought her.
She sighed with reli
ef. She was free now. Free to start over, and ready to take a risk, because that was the only way she’d ever end up perfectly happy. She slipped her arms around Jack’s neck. Instinctively, he leaned towards her. He pressed his lips against hers, but as their tongues met she gasped, opening her eyes.
In shock, she pulled away, bringing both hands to her face. Her mouth dropped. She stared. “I remember. I remember now.”
Jack trembled. What was it she’d remembered that would stop her, again, in the middle of a kiss? Something that would make her take Tim back? No. He told himself that wasn’t going to happen. He could trust Lara. He knew it now. He smiled. “What is it?”
She gazed into his sparkling green eyes, then over to the cold waters of the river. Her hand found his and she squeezed it. “You saved me,” she whispered, and rested her head against his chest. “You took a bullet for me. I’d completely forgotten. The doctors told me there might be things I wouldn’t remember, but this. . .You saved my life!”
He brushed the hair off her face. “The truth is, you saved mine.” He’d been searching all these years for love, so long he’d come to think he’d never find it. He put a hand on her back and the other behind her knees and swept her up off the ground. He held her in his arms, against his heart, and then twirled her around.
They laughed together at the innocent joy they both felt as they became dizzy, the cobblestone streets, the pretty stone buildings on either side of the bridge, the smiles of the passers-by spinning around and around until they were nothing but a stream of colours.
Jack finally sat on the bench with Lara in his arms. His heart was pounding more from sheer happiness than from the effort of dancing on a bridge in Paris, holding the woman of his dreams. He kissed Lara on the forehead, then the lips. “John—sorry,” he said, pinching his nose, “Jean—was right. I only understood one thing he said, but it was worth it.”
“And what was that?”
Jack imitated the French accent. “A new beginning is a gift.”