The Little Paris Patisserie

by Julie Caplin

  ‘Here.’ He lifted a teaspoon and offered it, his other hand lifting to her face to cup it as if to steady her. Her mouth went dry at the unexpectedly intimate touch and, startled, she automatically opened her mouth as the teaspoon grazed her lip. She lifted her eyes to his and in that moment a frisson of awareness sizzled between them before she slowly scooped a bit of the sweet mixture with her top lip. Despite his intense gaze on her she couldn’t help licking her lips, even though it felt horribly suggestive and ridiculous. Her pulse tripped as she saw his Adam’s apple dip.

  ‘What do you think?’ Sebastian’s low voice held a hint of huskiness.

  She swallowed hard, feeling rather hot, quivery and unsettled. ‘Nice, very … delicate. Earl Grey?’ Her words felt a bit babbled, as her thoughts were a million miles away from flavoured buttercream. He was still looking at her lips and her temperature control had gone haywire. She suddenly felt very, very hot but she couldn’t stop looking back at him.

  Then he touched her lip, scooping in a tiny bit of the cream that had escaped. The bottom of her stomach dropped through the floor as she held her breath. She watched as awareness sank over him, a frown starting to furrow his brow. He pulled back.

  ‘And what about this one?’ He dropped the spoon into the next bowl picked it up and offered it to her as if playing safe this time, except his eyes kept straying to her lips.

  Darn it, she could feel one of her ever-ready blushes staining her cheeks already. Reaching for the spoon, she kept her eyes on the mixture and didn’t look at him. He was already reaching for the third bowl.

  ‘I’ll … er … just sandwich up a few of the macarons with the different flavours.’ He moved away quickly round to the other side of the work bench, as if he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.

  She watched his thin, elegant fingers as with a quick slick of a palate knife, he quickly spread the fillings into the macarons they’d made earlier. Never in a million years would she have that consummate skill. He’d worked so hard to get where he was and it showed, the macarons looked like little tiny fairy-kissed works of art. The pale Earl Grey filling contrasted beautifully with the rose blush halves, as did the pale jasmine cream and then the pale pink rosewater cream.

  As she watched, Sebastian arranged them on one of the cake stands, the three mix-and-match colours all working beautifully. He’d obviously spent a long time thinking about not just the flavours but how they would all look together. It looked fabulous. Of course it did, this was Sebastian, the perfectionist bar none.

  ‘Try one,’ he said, holding out the cake stand in front of him, rather like a shield. She took one and nibbled at it. ‘Nice.’

  ‘Nice? Is that all you can say? Hmm, maybe we should ask Marcel’s opinion, if he’s as much of an expert as you think he is.’ Sebastian lifted the cake stand and with one crutch started to hop his way to the steps.

  ‘Wait, I’ll take them … you don’t want to … fall on the stairs or anything.’

  ‘No, you take the cake stand.’

  She rushed over to him and took the stand. ‘I’ll take them through, shall I?’

  As she started to walk up the steps, she heard him swing into place behind her.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she asked from the top of the steps.

  ‘I’d like to hear what he thinks.’ He planted his crutches on the first step and hopped up. Nina froze.

  ‘Be careful,’ she said.

  ‘It’s fine,’ he said swinging the crutches and preparing to take the next step up.

  Nina looked anxiously through the doorway and down the corridor towards the patisserie before saying in a very loud voice, ‘These really do look fantastic,’

  Sebastian looked up at her, puzzlement on his face before he hauled himself up the second step.

  Nina hesitated, feeling the sharp beat of her pulse in her throat as her earlobes turned bright pink. Should did she abandon him on the steps and run ahead to get Marcel to warn everyone? Or take it really slowly and hope that Marcel heard them?

  ‘I’m sure Marcel would love to try your macarons,’ she said, as loudly as she could.

  ‘I’m sure he’s not lurking in the corridor.’

  ‘Ah, I just didn’t want to startle him, you know appearing from nowhere.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s not gone deaf either.’

  ‘Oh … he’s not got good hearing at all,’ she said quickly. ‘Very hard of hearing, he is.’

  ‘I hadn’t noticed,’ said Sebastian, planting his crutches once again on the next step.

  As she took a hesitant step towards the patisserie her foot caught on a loose piece of lino and she tripped and started to pitch forward. Just in the nick of time she righted herself, still hanging on to the cake stand. She took a minute to steady the cake stand swinging from her hand and tidy the nearest macaron which was threatening to take a nose dive from the far edge.

  ‘Close call,’ said Sebastian stopping and pulling his crutches back from the fourth step. ‘That would have been disastrous, if you dropped the whole lot.’

  ‘Phew. Although you need to be careful.’

  ‘I’m fine Nina, just need to take my time. But I’m in no hurry. In fact, it’s a nice day, we could sit and enjoy our macarons in the sunshine with a cup of coffee.’

  Her eyes widened as she frantically tried to think of a way of diverting him.

  ‘Something wrong, Nina?’

  Standing on the penultimate step, he was now at eye level with her and so close she could see the fine lines around his lips. And why was she looking at them? For a lost daydream-y minute she imagined tipping ever so slightly forward and just grazing them. What would he say? What would he do? And what was she thinking? Er, hello. Been there got the T-shirt. And then she realised he was the one leaning forward ever so slightly, his eyes intent on her. Her heart fizzed with ridiculous excitement as he leaned closer still, she could feel his breath on her lips. Just as his mouth touched hers, the sensation of skin on skin sending a thousand electric pulses dancing through her system, he lurched to one side and wobbled dangerously. With a start she put out her free hand to steady him, grabbing his upper arm as she heard the clatter, clatter, bang, bang, bang as one of his crutches bumped its way down the stairs, the cake stand swaying dangerously in her other hand.

  ‘Shit,’ said Sebastian immediately, his eyes wide with alarm.

  ‘It’s OK, I’ve got you,’ said Nina. She could feel a slight tremble beneath her fingers and wasn’t sure if it was her or him. ‘Why don’t you sit down?’ She put down the cake stand at the top of the stairs and helped him manoeuvre around slowly and oh so carefully, a painfully choreographed move of crutch, shuffle, crutch, shuffle, crutch shuffle until he was able to sink onto his bottom on the step.

  ‘You alright?’ She sat down next to him, worried that his face looked so pale, all the colour had leached out leaving his eyes wide and troubled.

  ‘Close call, I thought I was going to fall backwards.’ He shuddered, closing his eyes for a second as if reliving the moment and the what-might-have-happened. ‘The crutch just slipped out from under me.’ He lay the other crutch down on the steps and put his elbow on his bent knee propping his chin in his hand. ‘Just give me a minute, my heart’s pounding like a freight train. The thought of falling again … really freaks me.’

  She scooted closer to him and put her arm around his shoulder. He looked like a lost, lonely boy and with a sudden flashback as clear as if it were yesterday, it reminded her of taking stolen glances at him, at home around the dinner around the table when all the boys were bantering and he thought no one was looking at him.

  ‘Hey,’ she said softly. ‘It’s OK.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He swallowed. She could feel his back muscles tense under her arm. ‘I’d forgotten … the accident. It’s just brought it all back.’ She wasn’t sure if he was aware he was doing it but he nestled closer to her. ‘You know that awful falling sensation, the point of no return when you know there’s nothing y
ou can do about it and you’re just bracing yourself for landing.’ He winced ‘And that crack. Shit.’ He shook his head. ‘And feeling so fucking helpless, useless and humanly frail. I must have looked a right berk, lying flat on my back with all those people looking at me. Bloody girl with the case, kind of whimpered apologies and said she had a train to catch.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Probably just as well. There was nothing she could have done.’

  ‘So I presume someone called an ambulance.’

  ‘Yeah, only after I’d done that “I’m fine, I’m fine just give me a minute” thing. Of course I tried to move … and I think I must have passed out. When I came to there were a couple of people trying to help. I feel bad now, there was a woman and a man, not together, but they stayed with me until the ambulance arrived. I never got their names. I would have liked to say thank you to them.’

  ‘I take it the break was quite bad.’

  ‘Bad enough that I had to stay in hospital and have an operation.’ He clenched his fists. ‘I’m dreading going back. Bloody hate hospitals.’

  ‘I could come with you,’ she offered.

  He turned his head to look at her, a sudden greedy hopefulness on his face. ‘Would you?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘Thanks Nina.’ The sweetness of his smile pierced her and as she looked at his familiar face, every line and feature ingrained in her memory, she knew she was as much in love with him as ever.

  ‘Mm.’ Marcel’s perennially grumpy face relaxed. ‘The Earl Grey is very subtle. Delicate and even, may I say, whimsical. The flavour with the rose macaron is particularly well balanced. I must congratulate you.’

  ‘Thank you, Marcel.’ Sebastian shot a wry smile at Nina when Marcel dipped his head to select a second one from the plate.

  After the near miss with the stairs, Nina had invited Marcel into the kitchen and if Sebastian was surprised by his unusual amiable cooperation, he didn’t say anything for which she was very grateful. Guilt was playing havoc with her conscience.

  At first, Sebastian had been rather subdued as she’d helped him back down the stairs and into a chair. She’d left him to get Marcel and a second chair from the patisserie shop to prop up his leg. By the time Marcel arrived with coffee and they’d brought through one of the bistro tables and two other chairs, Sebastian had regained his colour and was much more his usual self.

  ‘What flavour is this one?’ Marcel asked holding up one of the rose and jasmine flavoured macarons.

  ‘Perhaps you can tell me?’

  As if he were tasting a fine wine, the Frenchman popped it into his mouth, closed his eyes and savoured the sweet bite. ‘Hmm, rose and … ah, an excellent subtle flavour. This I like. I like very much. After the other one, it’s a delightful finish to the palate.’

  Sebastian nodded and quickly grabbed his ever-present notebook. ‘I like that, I might use that in my tasting notes for the menu. Would you mind?’

  ‘I’d be honoured,’ said Marcel with a grave, starchy nod. ‘Rose and jasmine, I believe.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘A lovely companion to the Earl Grey, and what do we have to finish this rather triumphant trilogy?’

  ‘Triumphant trilogy!’ Sebastian shouted with laughter, his eyes shining with delight that Nina was relieved to see. The shock of the near miss and that unexpected vulnerability which had shaken her, had worn off.

  ‘Marcel! You are a wordsmith. I might have to borrow that as well.’ Sebastian tipped his head on one side. ‘I might have to consider asking you to write the menu for me.’

  There was the slightest raise of Marcel’s eyebrows and Nina smiled to herself. Initially, she’d been sure that his effusive praise for the subtle flavours and the finely balanced combinations were born of a desire to keep Sebastian on side and in the kitchen.

  Marcel shook his head as he tried the last of the macarons. ‘No. There needs to be more of a triumphant finish. Something clever and challenging. Rose macaron with rose cream filling is too … safe.’

  Sebastian nodded. ‘Damn, you’re right.’

  And suddenly they were discussing flavour combinations in great depth, sharing ideas and listening avidly to one another. Nina slipped away with a big smile on her face and went out through the patisserie to the workers at the front.

  ‘How’s it going?’ she asked in a low voice.

  ‘Nearly done,’ said Jane standing up from where she’d been crouching and rubbing her back. There was just a tiny patch of the panel still left to paint.

  ‘We’ll be finished in the next half hour,’ said Bill. ‘But it would be good if we could get into the kitchen to clean up. Is the boss still here?’

  ‘Yes, he’s just talking to Marcel but he’s finished cooking, so I’m hoping he’ll leave soon.’ She glanced at her watch; it was five-thirty already. ‘I’d better get back before he wonders where I’ve gone.’

  ‘Are you all done?’ she asked Sebastian, starting to carry bowls over to the sink.

  ‘Yes. You don’t have to wash up. I appreciate the help, but … I wasn’t expecting you to work today.’

  She gave a pointed look at his hands as his balanced on his crutches, raising one eyebrow. ‘What? And you’re going to wash up, how?’

  The sheepish grin he flashed her made her smile. ‘You can make it up to me another time.’ Eek, that had come out more flirtatiously than she’d meant.

  ‘I can, can I?’ There was a ghost of smile haunting his lips as he looked back at her and then his face softened in the sort of way that made her stomach go all gooey and her hormones start misbehaving. ‘Perhaps I could take you out to dinner?’

  Stop, she told herself. This was him being grateful.

  She filled the sink with hot, soapy water, keeping her back to him, so that he didn’t see the expression on her face. ‘You fed up with hotel food again?’ she asked with cheery calm.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Oh, is there a restaurant you want to try? Check out the competition?’

  ‘No, Nina.’ She could hear a touch of irritation in his voice and risked turning around, to find him leaning against the work bench, the crutches hanging loose from his elbows and his eyes flashing as they bored into her.

  ‘McDonalds?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Nina,’ he said with an exasperated smile. ‘Perhaps, I’d like to take you out to dinner to say thank you. For going above and beyond … when you took me out in the wheelchair. That was really thoughtful.’ His eyes met hers. ‘You’ve always been good like that, thinking of m – others. It’s … well not everyone would have done that. I really enjoyed the day. Being with you. I’d like to … you know, spend some time with you. I don’t know, perhaps like a date.’

  He looked slightly horrified as if the words had escaped from him unwittingly and stood there with a hunted expression on his face as if he were still trying to decide whether to flee or not, but Nina wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily.

  ‘A date?’ she asked in a voice so quiet as if she couldn’t believe she was saying the word.

  He pulled a face. ‘Sorry, that didn’t come out properly.’

  Of course, it hadn’t. He hadn’t meant a date at all.

  ‘I meant, I’d like I take you out to dinner to say thank you for all your help.’ His voice was firmer and slightly less cross than earlier. ‘And that it would be a … an event. You know planned. I want to take you somewhere nice to say thank you, so it wouldn’t be a date, date but it would be like a date.’ He finished with a no-nonsense nod.

  Ah, that was more like the Sebastian she knew. Back on firmer ground. Seeing him so vulnerable earlier had been unsettling. Stern, gruff, arrogant Sebastian was much easier to deal with. It was easier to try and dislike him. After all, he had no idea how she felt.

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ she said crisply. Emotion had no place here. ‘You do remember you’re paying me.’

  ‘Meet me at the hotel at seven,
Nina.’

  A quick thrill ran through her at his at his strict tone.

  ‘OK.’ Her voice came out in an embarrassing squeak. Why couldn’t she just once manage to play it cool around him, she wished, as she caught his quick wry smile.

  Chapter 26

  ‘Hey Nina,’ called Jane as she entered the patisserie, where the others were sitting around a table with tall glasses of citron pressé.

  ‘Hi everyone. Are you all done?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Maddie, with a broad beam. ‘We’ve done a brilliant job.’

  ‘I could tell,’ said Nina, ‘from the amount of paint you’ve got on your face.’

  Maddie lifted her hand and patted her face. ‘Where?’

  ‘It’s OK, grey freckles are in,’ said Peter to her right.

  Jane nudged him with a laugh. ‘Since when have you known anything about fashion?’

  ‘I have hidden depths,’ he replied with a twinkle at her before turning back to Nina. ‘And well done on keeping his nibs at bay. That must have bit nerve-wracking, although it made us all feel a bit Mission Impossible. Bill had the music playing on his iPhone at one point.’

  ‘I’m glad it gave you some excitement. I felt…’ Well, she felt horribly guilty now, going ahead without telling him. ‘There was one close call. When he wanted to come into the patisserie.’ Her heart pinched at the memory of sitting on the step with Sebastian. She was cross with herself. How had she let herself fall in love with him all over again. What was wrong with her? And why couldn’t she just tell him about the patisserie?

  ‘What did you do?’ asked Maddie. ‘I’d have kissed him.’

  Nina blushed.

  ‘You didn’t!’

  ‘No, of course not.’ She swallowed, feeling the rush of heat at the thought of that near kiss, something she hadn’t had time to dwell on since the barely-there graze of his lips on hers.