Marietta Hotels 2: An Engagement in Paris

by Rachell Nichole

  The tightness around Dad’s eyes told Julien he might have made a grave mistake. As Mandy’s fingers squeezed his, he knew he had to do something to ease the tension. She’d been convinced from the start that his father hated her. Not that Julien could blame her. He’d tried to explain that Dad’s coolness was from fear Julien would make his mistakes and not because of Mandy.

  “Écoute, Mandy is the woman I love. The one I am going to marry in just a few days. And the mother of your grandchild. Whatever you’re worried about, let it go and just give yourself a chance to get to know her. Can’t you see how happy she makes me?” Julien blurted the words, part French, part English, and all fire.

  “Yes, well. How old are you, exactly?” Pierre asked Mandy.

  “Twenty-nine,” Mandy said, her voice tight and stern.

  Pierre raised his eyebrows, disapproval radiating off him. “Yes, well…” He didn’t have to finish his sentence.

  How could Julien have been so stupid as to subject her to this? He should have known his father would focus on the age difference the same way so many others had. The same way Annabelle had. Mandy deserved better from him. And he deserved better from his father.

  Julien got to his feet. “I’m sorry, Mandy. This was a mistake.”

  She stood with him, the confusion on her face apparent.

  “Sit, sit,” Pierre said, waving at them with both hands. “There’s no need for the dramatics.”

  Mandy looked like she wanted to bolt. Like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

  “What do you think?” he asked her. It was the best he could do. He’d already dragged her into the middle of a shitty situation. Angela was a doll. And Tyler, even when he was being stern and protective, wasn’t as off-putting as Julien’s father was being now to Mandy.

  Mandy nodded and reclaimed her seat. Julien did the same and stared at his father. A waiter appeared at the edge of the table and took drink orders. He disappeared a moment later.

  “So where is this granddaughter I keep hearing so much about?” Pierre asked, seeming to understand that any more condescending commentary would cause Julien to leave.

  Mandy smiled for the first time, light in her amber eyes. “Back at the hotel with my brother and mom. They’ve been taking very good care of her since they arrived yesterday. They insist on getting in as much time as possible with Sophie this week since they’ll be heading back to New York Sunday, and we’re not sure when our schedules will allow a trip to the States.”

  What she meant, of course, was when their finances would allow such a thing, but Julien hoped his dad wouldn’t realize that. It had become an old argument between them—the fact that Julien was too young and not secure enough to have a wife and baby. Mandy made enough money to support herself, but it wasn’t enough for the three of them. Though he was working, he was still a student. But he and Mandy were making it work.

  What the hell did Dad know?

  “I expect I’ll meet her sometime this week, then. I have several meetings lined up, but I’m free, as requested, Wednesday and Friday afternoon.”

  Mandy relaxed beside him, as if she’d been holding her breath and waiting for her future father-in-law to say he never wanted to see his granddaughter. Pierre wasn’t a bad person. Julien knew that beneath the tough exterior was a man who loved too quickly, too fiercely, and held nothing back. As soon as Dad held Sophie, the floodgates would burst, and he would be powerless against the love for such a precious little girl.

  “Yes, that would be great. I’m sure she’d love to meet you as well,” Mandy said. The waiter arrived with their drinks and took their dinner orders. He and Mandy got their usual, a savory crepe apiece—hers egg, ham, and Swiss; his vegetarian.

  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

  “How is school?” Dad asked, pouring three glasses of the house red wine.

  “It’s good. Busy but good. It’s been hard some days with Sophie, but Mandy’s done a great job with her.”

  Mandy smiled. “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure it’s you who’s done the great job.”

  He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, still maintaining his hold on her hand.

  “How sweet,” Dad said, and Julien was glad to note the tone was only mildly colored with disdain. What the hell did he have to do to get his dad to see the truth?

  “So this wedding. You’ve made your appointment at the mairie for mercredi?”

  “Yes. It was a long process, as you know, since Mandy is American, but everything is set for Wednesday at four.”

  “Who will be witnessing?” Dad asked.

  “My mom and brother, his girlfriend, and you,” Mandy said. “They’ll be bringing Sophie along as well.”

  Dad pursed his lips but didn’t comment. It wasn’t common practice to bring along children to the mayor’s office, but Sophie was exceptionally well behaved, especially for an infant. And he and Mandy had both agreed they wanted their daughter present for both the legal and religious ceremonies.

  “And the event on Friday?”

  “My mom and Layla are arranging everything for us. I have no doubt it will be beautiful.”

  “Of course. You didn’t feel the need to plan it all on your own? I know how important the big white wedding is for you Americans.”

  “Papa. Ça suffit!” Julien glared at his father, who seemed determined to keep poking at Julien’s future wife, the wedding, the baby. Basically at anything he disapproved of.

  “No, he’s right. For most women, getting married is a huge thing, especially in the States. Everything has to be just so, and it’s a big to-do. I’m fine with a small ceremony. I’d be happy just to go to the mairie and be done with it. But it’s important to my mom to see the wedding. To have the big ceremony and all that. So she and Layla will plan to their hearts’ content and tell me when to be where. I’ll follow orders, and everything will be perfect.”

  Mandy played lightly with the pads of Julien’s fingers as she said all this. Was talking about the wedding really making her that nervous? Where was his hard-ass? The woman who, even in the main throes of pregnancy hormones, only cried on occasion?

  What was it about the wedding that made her so anxious?

  Mandy pulled her hand back from his and stood. “Excuse me,” she said and headed for the bathroom. Julien watched her go, still transfixed with the way she moved. Heat raged low in his body as her hips swayed.

  His father cleared his throat, and Julien turned his attention back to him.

  “What?”

  “She’s not ready to get married, Son, and neither are you,” Dad said, all in French. They’d been speaking a lovely mix of Franglais, but now that Mandy was gone, his father’s voice was harsh. Julien hadn’t realized how much Pierre had been holding back in Mandy’s presence.

  “You don’t know that. You just met her.” Julien strove to keep his voice low, to not draw too much attention to them.

  Pierre shook his head, a sadness in his eyes Julien had seen too often. “She’s just like your mother was at that age. And you look at her the same way I looked at Jessica. Like the sun rises in her eyes. She’s bewitched you, and you don’t even know it. I’m telling you, that girl is not ready for marriage. Or babies. She looks ready to run. Trust me. I know.”

  Julien didn’t need to be reminded that his mother hadn’t been ready. He remembered all those years growing up with just his dad, sure of how much his mother had despised him. Despised them both enough to pick up and leave one morning without so much as a good-bye kiss. He ignored the familiar stab of sorrow in his chest.

  “Mandy isn’t Mom. And she’s not a girl. She’s eight years older than I am, and she’s a wonderful mother. The way she looks at Sophie…I swear, Papa, Mom never looked at me like that, even when I was very small.” He had to convince his father that Mandy wasn’t his mother. That she’d been scared about being a parent, but so had he.

  They’d worked out their issues. She’d stuck by him, even after finding him with anothe
r woman wrapped around him.

  “Pushing her into marriage is the last thing you want to do. When I finally talked your mom into marrying me, that was the last straw, the thing that ultimately drove her away from us. Please listen to me. I don’t want you to make the same mistake I did.”

  Julien’s hands curled into fists, and he barely kept from shouting. “We’re getting married, and that’s final. Leave it alone. This is the last we’re going to talk about it. Here comes my future wife.”

  Julien’s words were forceful, and he prayed his father would heed the warning. Dad didn’t know the first thing about Mandy, and Julien refused to allow the older man’s cynicism to cloud his judgment. He was doing the right thing. Marrying Mandy would give them both the security and stability they needed.

  As Mandy took her seat beside him, Julien smiled, tamping down the spark of doubt his father had ignited before it consumed him. He and Mandy would be just fine. His father would see that. Eventually.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mandy threw her purse down on the dark cherry table as soon as she walked through the doors of the Victor Hugo Suite at the Marietta Paris. The soothing taupe walls and warm chocolate-brown furniture did nothing to quell her temper. Gazing through the window out to the serene beauty of Paris should have calmed her. A perfect view of the Eiffel Tower would normally fill her with a sense of accomplishment as well as astonishment at the beauty of her favorite city. Tonight not even the City of Light seemed able to change her mood.

  She’d expected Pierre to be cautious, maybe a little doubtful or disgruntled. But he was even worse than she’d feared. She knew Julien had just been making excuses when he said Pierre was too busy to come visit. Forget the nine-hour train ride; it had been a line of bull. She’d had that sneaking suspicion from day one, but now she knew without a doubt that Pierre hated her. He disapproved of her relationship with his son, he hadn’t sounded remotely enthused about meeting his granddaughter, and he’d barely been able to hide his disdain.

  “He hates me,” she said, turning on Julien.

  “Ma belle, he does not. He doesn’t know you. I told you he takes a while to warm up.”

  “A while? He’s like ice-age frigid. At this rate, it will take years before he thaws.” What was wrong with her? She’d never had such disapproval from a boyfriend’s parents before. And she was supposed to be marrying Julien. No, not supposed to be. Going to. She had to get her mind straight. It shouldn’t matter that Pierre seemed convinced she wasn’t good enough for Julien. But it did.

  She didn’t want to let the doubt in. Didn’t want to let her mind wander back to her fears when she’d first started dating someone so young, or the panic she’d felt when she realized she was pregnant and going to be pulling a kid into a lifelong commitment. She’d tried to break up with him, tried to convince him he deserved more and should be with someone his own age…like Annabelle. But he hadn’t wanted to listen to her. Maybe she should have made the decision for them both and left him.

  Julien moved closer, trying to wrap his arms around her, and she stiffened, pushing him away. “Don’t. Not now. I’m going to change and go find my daughter. She’s probably hungry again, and I’m not sure how many bottles Mom has left.” She walked past the dark Victorian furniture in the living room of the suite. She couldn’t argue with him now, not when she was so fired up, because she would say something she’d regret.

  Would she really be so low as to use his father’s actions against him? In the mood she was in, she might. That wouldn’t be fair. It wasn’t his fault Pierre hated her, and she didn’t want to do something rash like break off the wedding. It would be a knee-jerk reaction, and she knew it. She just needed to calm her ass down.

  So she closed the bedroom doors behind her with a soft click instead of slamming them like she wanted. Pierre had attempted to be civil, especially after she’d come back from the bathroom, but she could see it in his face, hear it in the way he spoke to her. In his eyes, she was the wrong woman for his son. She didn’t think that would ever change.

  She pulled her sundress over her head and tossed it into the laundry bag. She needed the comfort of sweatpants, the familiar warmth of comfy clothes, so she pulled on the one T-shirt and pair of sweats she’d brought. Julien had neglected to pack much other than lingerie and girlie dresses, but she’d sneaked in a set or two of lounge clothes.

  She paused a moment to open the wardrobe and look at the simple white gown she would be donning in just a few days. Refusing to allow herself to cry over the whole situation, she closed the wardrobe tightly. It wouldn’t be a good idea to get all sappy and emotional now. She had to keep it together and go see Sophie.

  “I’ll be back,” she called to Julien as she waltzed out of their suite. She didn’t give him the chance to answer or the choice to go with her. She needed some time away from him. Just for a little while. Just until she could calm her temper and ensure she wouldn’t bite his head off.

  She walked across the narrow hall and knocked on her mom’s door. As soon as it opened, Mandy launched herself into her mom’s arms.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” Mom asked, holding her close. Mandy shook her head and blinked hard, holding on to her composure. Falling apart in front of her mom wouldn’t help anything, even though she wanted to lean in and rely on the comfort Mom was offering her.

  Mom rubbed her back, guiding her into the purple-and-red sitting area before the vacant fireplace. She lowered Mandy gently onto the love seat and sat beside her.

  “Julien’s dad hates me.”

  “Nonsense!”

  Mandy laughed at her mom’s acerbic tone. Leave it up to Angela to make her feel better with just one word.

  “Now come on. Tell me what’s up.”

  Mandy shrugged, twirling her engagement ring round and round her finger. “Where’s Sophie?”

  “Ty’s got her. She just ate. He was putting her to sleep last I checked. Stop stalling, young lady, and spill.” Mom always cut right to the chase. Mandy had wanted some support. Not an inquisition. She should’ve known better.

  “We went to dinner with Julien’s dad. And he hates me.”

  “That’s crap, and you know it. Why would you say that?”

  Mandy leaned back into the soft cushions of the love seat, running the pads of her fingers along the soft crushed-velvet fabric, and told her mom about the fiasco at dinner.

  “I’m sure he’s just a little shocked about the whole thing. You have to admit you and Julien have had kind of a whirlwind engagement. It’s happened very fast. Eighteen months ago, you were happy as could be, single and teaching in Paris. It’s hard for a parent to let go. And Julien’s so young.”

  “Not you too! You can’t both be against the wedding.” If her mother thought she was a cougar too, she wouldn’t be able to take it. She knew her mom wanted this, deep down. That she was just playing devil’s advocate right now. But if Angela couldn’t be behind the wedding one hundred percent, how could Mandy? She could fight against Pierre’s distaste. She could even forget that Julien was so much younger. She could maybe even lock away her doubts and fears. But she couldn’t do all that and convince her mom to be on her side. It was too much to ask of one woman.

  “Honey, relax. I’m just trying to get you to see it from his point of view. If you were twenty and had run away to Paris to follow your dreams and came home a year later married and with a baby, I would have taken issue with it as well. But I know you, and I’m coming to know Julien as well. This is a good thing. He loves you. And if his dad can’t see that, it’s his problem. Not yours.”

  Mandy took a deep breath. Mom was right. As usual. Maybe Pierre was just looking out for what was best for Julien. He didn’t know Mandy. How could he be sure that she was right for Julien, that she wasn’t taking advantage of him? The thought that he might be right made her cringe. Had she taken advantage of Julien? He’d appeared to be the one seducing her, but she’d allowed it. Should she have pushed aside her desires and kept
her distance from him?

  “Maybe it’s as simple as him being afraid that once you’re married and Julien is finished with school, you’ll leave France. Julien’s an only child, and Pierre’s wife has been gone a lot of years, from what you’ve said.”

  “I think that’s what Julien wants. To move to the States. He’s always wanted to live in New York. Don’t get too excited, though. I’m not ready to leave this city,” she said quickly. Mom’s eyes had looked way too hopeful there for a second.

  “Give it a chance. I’m sure Pierre will come around.”

  “Well, he says he’s coming to the wedding.”

  “Good. Between now and the end of the week, I know you’ll find a way to win him over. If he’s really that displeased with the marriage to begin with.”

  “You think I’m imagining it?” Mandy tried to curb her tone, but she couldn’t help sounding irritated Her heart still pounded with the fear of ruining things between Julien and his dad. She hadn’t been imagining any of it.

  “Jeez, sweetie. Don’t go and turn into bridezilla on me now. You’ve been doing so well,” Angela teased. It made Mandy smile, just a little.

  “I’ve barely said five words to Julien since we left the restaurant. I need to go talk to him.”

  “Go make up with your fiancé, darling. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Mandy kissed her mom good night and returned to her room. Julien sat on the small terrace overlooking the City of Light. She stood in the doorway for a moment, admiring the view of his profile. A strong jaw, high cheekbones, and a sweep of that hair she loved running her fingers through.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, crossing the room and stepping into the balmy breeze. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and he tipped his head, rubbing his smooth cheek against the back of her hand.