The Little Paris Patisserie

by Julie Caplin

  ‘Alex?’ Sebastian’s voice rose in quick surprise.

  But Nina ignored it. ‘And…’ She pulled a mournful face. ‘I tried all of them.’ She was relieved to see Sebastian’s eyes dance with amusement. He grinned back. ‘I can believe that, quite easily.’ He paused before adding, with a naughty twinkle that made the butterflies in her stomach dance, ‘I’ve never known you back down from a challenge.’

  Nina ducked her head. Neither had he in the past.

  They joined the queue which moved extremely quickly and it wasn’t long before they were accommodated at a table.

  ‘So what do you recommend, Miss Every-cake-in-the-shop Hadley?’

  ‘You’ve got to try the cheesecake, it’s divine.’ She pointed enthusiastically to the top of the menu. She had a soft spot for that little cake. It had definitely inspired her and the customers at the shop certainly seemed to love her Anglo-French fusion creations. Marcel was positively gleeful every time they sold out.

  ‘Cheesecake?’

  At the doubtful look on his face, she nodded. ‘Cheesecake with a twist. Updated.’

  ‘They’re definitely doing something right,’ said Sebastian looking around at the busy tables. ‘And it’s not cheap.’

  ‘What about the décor?’ she asked with a tiny inward shiver of delight at the thought of the magical mermaids adorning the walls of the patisserie.

  ‘It’s of its type. I guess it has its appeal. Décor is really important. I spend a lot of money on design concepts.’

  ‘So a really fabulous interior brings in the customers?’ she asked leaning back in her chair, trying to be casual.

  ‘Definitely. People want to feel like they’re somewhere special, it adds to the ambience.’

  ‘Is that the business man talking? Or a customer?’

  ‘Both. I’m always interested to see what other restaurants and places have on offer, what they’re doing well, whether I can learn anything from them.’

  ‘So if somewhere was making money, you might not change it too much?’ she asked.

  ‘Not if the profit margins were good and they had a good business model. Which they certainly have here.’

  ‘So you think money can be made from a patisserie,’ she pressed.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘Patisserie C hasn’t made money for years. And patisserie is hard work. I’m not going to change my mind on that. Is Marcel enticing you over to the dark side?’

  She lifted her shoulders in a non-committal shrug.

  ‘This place has been here two hundred years. They have a reputation. That’s how they can get away with charging twelve euros for a cake.’ He shut his menu with a firm slap. ‘I will try this famous cheesecake of yours. What are you going to have?’

  The queue had doubled since they’d arrived and two women in big sunglasses and glamorous floor length wool coats gave Sebastian second looks, their smiles softening as he hopped on his crutches while Nina pushed the chair to a quieter spot on the pavement. ‘Where next for our gastronomic adventure?’ asked Sebastian as he settled back into the wheelchair outside the store oblivious to the flagrant interest of the two women.

  Nina had to admit, he was rather good-looking and she felt mildly possessive of him. They might see the handsome face but they didn’t know that he needed someone to look after him for a change. Successful and driven on the surface, he was a catch, she couldn’t deny that, but he needed someone to rescue him from that incessant need to prove himself and to show him how to enjoy himself.

  ‘Nina?’ he asked, interrupting her thoughts. She focused back on him.

  ‘Where are you taking me now? I could get used to this, being chauffeured around.’

  Nina slapped the map into his chest. ‘You can be navigator as you’re sitting there doing nothing,’ she said smartly, trying to ignore the buzzy sensation that made her feel like she needed to go for a long run or maybe just pull him to his feet and kiss him senseless.

  Although she hadn’t told Sebastian their destinations, she’d mapped out the route earlier.

  ‘This feels quite familiar,’ said Sebastian as they walked along Rue Saint Honoré. ‘I’d forgotten how compact Paris is.’

  ‘And I’d forgotten how much easier it is to go at a sedate pace,’ teased Nina. ‘My shoulders killed after last time.’

  They took a slightly circuitous route so that they could pass the Louvre and its famous glass pyramid before dropping down onto Quai Francois Mitterrand to cross the Seine over the Pont Royal, the sunlight skipping across the choppy water busy with boats and barges, before continuing to the Rue du Bac. In the warm sunshine, it was easy to amble along enjoying the atmosphere. A group of tourists on a tour sped past, hopping off the kerb anxious to get by and keep up with the guide who marched along spitting out facts as she went.

  La Patisserie du Rêves – the patisserie of dreams – was the complete reverse of Ladurée. It had a pristine minimalism about it, with a few star pieces displayed in the glass bell jars suspended from the ceiling, one large cake with an individual sized one beside it. The cakes were simple but oh so elegant, mirroring the shop itself.

  Nina felt it looked more like an art gallery. There was very little on show but Sebastian, having abandoned the wheelchair outside, was prowling around examining each of the cakes on display. She was quite taken with the pretty display of sablés à la rose, little shortbread biscuits with rose icing, as well as the large Paris-Brest, a circle of choux buns filled with praline cream and an inner layer of pure praline, until she saw the price.

  ‘Ninety-four euros!’ she said in a scandalised whisper, as Sebastian bent his head to get a closer look.

  ‘It serves twelve,’ he said.

  ‘Yes but … do they ever sell any?’

  ‘Yes,’ he tapped the glass. ‘In France, the culture is very different. People will buy patisserie to take as a gift when they are invited for dinner or for lunch. This place is highly regarded in Paris. The chef here, Philippe Conticini is very famous, a regular on television and has an international reputation. If you turned up with a dessert from here, your hosts would be delighted, it would be rather flash.’

  He dipped his head to peer at the Paris-Brest again. ‘This is amazing.’

  Nina circled the pastry shop and by the time she came back, Sebastian was still studying the cakes with the enthusiasm of a bug collector peering through a microscope. She smiled to herself at the rather intense expression on his face and waited patiently when after his careful examination of each and every one of the cakes in the central display, he engaged the two white-clad serving staff in a long and involved conversation.

  She felt a touch smug as he enthused all the way to the next patisserie.

  The cakes in Des Gâteaux et du Pain were even more extravagantly beautiful than the last shop and confirmed Nina’s belief once and for all that she would never be a pastry chef. She’d read up on Claire Damon, the pastry chef, who had opened the patisserie twelve years ago and trained with some of the top French pastry chefs for ten years before that.

  Nina looked around and knew that she didn’t have the patience or the burning hunger to create perfection like this and … it didn’t bother her. With a sudden burst of insight, she realised that what she was doing was enough for her. It still astounded her that people queued outside Patisserie C for her chocolat caramel suprême on a daily basis and that by four o’clock every afternoon Marcel had sold out of her strawberry and chocolate éclairs.

  This icy perfection was for Nina a tad intimidating. She thought back to the warm camaraderie of the patisserie last week when everyone had been there to decorate the front. That was more her style. She didn’t need to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

  Sebastian however was entranced and Nina smiled like a proud mother hen as he prowled around the counters.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ she asked, as he got back into the wheelchair and she began pushing him along the street.

  ‘I think my Triumphant Trilogy is a
load of bollocks,’ he stated. ‘This is amazing. It makes me realise I don’t spend enough time in the kitchen these days.’ He glanced backwards at her. ‘Is that a smug look I see on your face?’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly comment,’ said Nina holding back a smile.

  ‘You remind me of your mother,’ he said, still twisting his neck to look up at her.

  ‘No!’

  ‘Well, not that you look like your mother, you don’t look like her at all obviously’, added Sebastian hastily. ‘But it’s that knowing, see-I-was-right-all-along smile hovering around your lips, which is so much kinder and easier to take than a full on told-you-so.’ He turned back and lifted his leg tapping his cast.

  ‘God, I can’t wait to get this bloody thing off. I’ve suddenly got loads of ideas. I want to get into the kitchen.’ He looked back at her again. ‘I don’t suppose you fancy putting in some extra hours? Learn from the master at work.’

  ‘You mean not get paid,’ she teased, lifting an eyebrow.

  ‘Yeah, something like that. Although the others have been paying me. Let’s say if you’re not completely satisfied you can have your money back.’ At this rate he was going to get a serious crick in his neck, looking round trying to talk to her. ‘I’d like to do a bit of experimenting. Today’s given me plenty of food for thought.’

  Nina groaned at his emphasis on the words. ‘That’s terrible.’

  He gave her a ridiculous wink before turning his head back to face the direction they were going.

  She’d missed this playful side of Sebastian. For so long all she’d seen was the staid, serious side of him. He looked younger and far more light-hearted today than he had for a long time. ‘How do you know I wouldn’t like hard cash?’ she teased back, allowing herself to look down at his dark glossy hair and wonder what his reaction would be if she gave into the compulsion to brush away the hair touching his collar. He was overdue a haircut. Probably not a priority at the moment.

  He turned his head to look at her. ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said hastily, realising he’d caught her staring at the back of his neck.

  His face softened and he dropped his voice, ‘Would you help me tomorrow, after the course has finished, when everyone else has gone?’

  She clasped the handles of the chair tighter. There was no reason why the quiet request should set off that odd squirming in her stomach but it did.

  ‘Tomorrow?’ she repeated, unable to break her gaze with him, her voice calm even though inside it was shouting ‘Tomorrow! No!’

  Damn, they had a full schedule planned in the kitchen tomorrow before and after the course, so that she could make up the time she’d lose while Sebastian was there. Both Maddie and Bill had signed up to help from six before the course started and Peter and Jane had offered to stay afterwards to put in a couple of hours.

  ‘Today has really inspired me.’ His words warmed her. ‘Thanks, Nina. I’ve suddenly got lots of ideas.’ He gave her another one of those serious, intent looks over his shoulder. ‘I’d like your help. Your flavour combinations in those éclairs were brilliant.’

  ‘Flattery will get you everywhere,’ she said, trying not to let his words affect her.

  ‘I meant it, Nina, you have a real flair.’ Was there an additional warmth in his eyes or was that wishful thinking? She’d been down this road so many times before.

  ‘In fact you’ve made me rethink the final course next week.’

  Nina’s steps faltered for a minute at the sincerity and … was that admiration in his voice?

  ‘What do you think of us making a grand piece where everyone can do a bit of everything using the techniques we’ve practised during the course?’

  At first she thought it was rhetorical question, but no, he was looking up at her waiting for an answer as it counted. Unable to help herself, she gave him a smile.

  ‘I … I think that sounds a great idea.’

  ‘Croquemboche?’

  She gasped. ‘That would be amazing. Although wouldn’t it be a bit … ambitious?’ She’d seen pictures of the profiterole towers. They looked fabulous but she was sure they were difficult to make.

  ‘Yes but…’ Sebastian’s slow smile did crazy things to her pulse. ‘I want this last class to be spectacular. A team effort with everyone working together to choose the flavours, fillings and overall look. I want them to finish on a high and have a real sense of achievement.’

  ‘That’s wonderful.’ She smiled back at him delighted at his idea. ‘They’re such lovely people, they’ll love it.’

  ‘I hope so and tomorrow will be a nice easy day. We’re doing little French style cakes, madeleines and financiers, which I think everyone will enjoy making.’

  She bit back another smile but he caught her.

  ‘What?’ he asked with laughing suspicion.

  ‘You. You’ve changed your tune. You sound as if you’re almost enjoying teaching the course.’

  ‘Do you know what? I am.’ He shook his head as if in surprise.

  ‘And it’s nearly all over. You’ll be getting your cast off next week. Back on your own two feet.’ Nina’s words came out in stilted chunks.

  ‘You said you’d come with me. To the hospital. On Tuesday. Is that still OK?’ Sebastian sounded equally stilted.

  ‘Tuesday?’ She echoed in dismay. ‘Next week?’

  He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

  Tension took hold of her shoulders with a vicious grip. She’d been so busy and focused on the patisserie, she’d been in complete denial about what would happen when Sebastian was back on his feet.

  ‘So will you?’ he asked

  ‘Yes, of course.’ The life drained out of her voice. ‘I’d forgotten I’ll be going home so soon.’

  Sebastian’s face dropped. ‘Yes … I guess you will.’ His eyes darted to her face and away. ‘It feels like we’ve … like the sand in the timer has suddenly run out far quicker than…’ He lifted his eyes up to hers, his voice unexpectedly hoarse. ‘We’ve run out of time.’

  Nina swallowed hard, keeping her face perfectly still.

  ‘Nina.’ He grabbed her hand and pulled her round in front of the wheelchair, pushing himself to his feet, muttering, ‘blasted bloody leg.’

  Feeling her heart thudding she raised her gaze to his as he lowered his forehead to touch hers. ‘Shit, Nina. I don’t want you to go.’

  Her heart was thumping so hard, it could have outdone the drum beat in a rock anthem.

  ‘Neither do I,’ she whispered.

  For a moment they held each other’s gaze, in a long searching look. Nina wanted to capture the slow sweet smile that began to blossom on Sebastian’s face for ever. He lifted a hand and touched her cheek.

  ‘People! Can you move? You’re blocking the whole darn pavement.’ The angry American tour guide stood in the road, his eager group behind peering with avid curiosity at them.

  Flustered, Nina pulled away and with a scowl, Sebastian sat back down in his chair. It took Nina a few pushes to get the wheelchair moving again from a standing start. She felt as if she’d stalled her car at a busy junction.

  It rather spoiled the mood and they walked back in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Sebastian had hunched down in his chair and Nina kept wondering what else he might have said.

  He turned to her as they arrived outside the front of his hotel. ‘Would you like to—’

  ‘Were you expecting two tons of Molteni oven to be delivered today?’ asked Alex, appearing immediately, his hair so tousled it was almost standing on end. ‘To your suite?’

  ‘What!’ Sebastian’s head snapped up. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve had a bloody delivery driver, and three men insisting that they were due to deliver an oven to you today. Here.’

  ‘Bloody fools. It’s for the restaurant.’

  ‘Well, I knew that but it was rather difficult to convince them in your absence. And you weren’t answering your phone.’ Alex’s voi
ce took on an accusing tone as he looked at Nina.

  Sebastian shrugged. ‘I switched it off.’

  Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘Working?’

  ‘No, Nina took me on a grand tour of patisserie.’

  She could have killed him when he added with a cat-got-the-cream smile toying on his face, ‘She took me to Ladurée.’

  Alex arched an elegant eyebrow, his Scottish accent deepening. ‘Oh aye?’

  ‘Yes. Very nice it was.’ Sebastian’s voice held a definite touch of cockiness.

  ‘And did you buy Nina every cake on the menu?’

  Sebastian’s lip curled. ‘No. Sounds like you were trying to impress her.’ The lazy drawl implied that Alex was trying too hard.

  Nina wanted to knock their heads together. She was well used to pissing contests, although it was the first time she’d been in the centre of one, metaphorically thank goodness. With a roll of her eyes at their childish behaviour, she decided that the only way to diffuse the situation was to leave them to it.

  She was halfway across the hotel lobby before she heard both men call. ‘Nina!’

  Without turning round, she waved her hand in the air and dived out of the hotel doors, relieved to have a bit of peace and quiet to think about what had happened earlier in the day.

  Chapter 29

  ‘No!’ said Nina. ‘Absolutely not.’ She put her coffee cup down with a rattle in the saucer.

  ‘Why not?’ asked Maddie, her face flushed as she looked at Bill and Jane on the other side of the table for support. ‘It would put Patisserie C on the map.’

  ‘Because … I feel bad enough that Sebastian has no idea what we’ve been doing, this feels like it’s really trying to force his hand.’

  And she didn’t want to jeopardise what … whatever was happening with him. Yesterday’s class had been – her heart danced in her chest – the best yet. Sebastian had been, the Sebastian she remembered, light-hearted with everyone, full of banter and careful and attentive to her. Lots of smiles sent her way, touches on her arm, a caress on her cheek when a strand had fallen loose from her ponytail. By the end of the day she’d been fizzing with pent up longing, hoping that they’d have some time together when the class finished. And then he’d got a phone call about that bloody oven again and had to dash off.