First Sight

by Danielle Steel

  Jade walked into the room then, to ask her something, saw that they were holding hands, and realized it was an awkward moment. She backed out of the room as quickly as she had come in, without saying anything, and closed the door.

  “I’m sorry,” he said apologetically. “You must be busy.”

  “Not at all,” she said in a comforting tone. Timmie had always been a very nurturing person. With her son gone for the past twelve years, and no man of importance in her life, she had lavished her time and affection on her employees, who loved her all the more for it. And now, listening to her, and the comforting things she had said to him, he could see the depth of her character and the warmth of her love, as he hadn’t been able to see in October, when she herself was so frightened. He could see now that she was on her feet again. Timmie was not only warm and giving, but rock solid. The traumas of her own past rarely showed, except in the compassion she felt for others. “We got everything done today. My assistants are just used to having access to me at all hours of the night and day,” she said, acknowledging Jade’s sudden appearance without knocking a moment before.

  “They’re very lucky to have you to rely on.” He could see now what a tower of strength she was. She was not just powerful in the world, she was strong in her heart and soul and being. She would have had to be in order to survive all that she had gone through, from her son’s death to her husband’s betrayal, and all the horrors of her orphaned childhood. He remembered every detail of what she had told him, and admired her all the more for it. Now he could see where it had brought her, to a place of gentleness and kindness. Even though he had liked her before, he could see that he had underestimated her. She was truly a remarkable woman with a heart of gold.

  “I’m very lucky to have them,” Timmie said about her employees. “They’re like my family. We spend an enormous amount of time together. They’re wonderful people.”

  “So are you,” he said quietly. “I was very impressed by what you told me in the hospital last October. I haven’t forgotten it. I don’t know many people who have faced such enormous challenges, and who have still accomplished all that you have.”

  “Don’t be too impressed,” she smiled. “Remember what a mess I was with my burst appendix. When bad things happen like that, I turn into a terrified five-year-old in about five minutes. Maybe we all do. I hate to admit it, but I don’t have the resilience I once had. Nowadays, the things that frighten me hit me much harder. Eventually the blows you’ve suffered take a toll.”

  “I feel that way myself sometimes, about the erosion of time and life. I think the disappointments of our marriage wore me down more than I thought. I was so tired of the constant criticisms and accusations. I was tired of feeling I was never enough. The day we told our children that we’re getting divorced, I thought I would die when I saw them cry. I felt like I had killed them. It was a terrible thing to do to them. But in spite of that, I can’t stay.” He looked devastated as he said it, as Timmie’s eyes held his.

  “You didn’t kill them,” she said sympathetically. “They just don’t know that yet. All they really need to know is that you still love them. That’s not going to change. Once they understand that, they’ll calm down, and everyone will feel better. They’ll get used to the change in time. And they’ll have their own lives. You have a right to yours.”

  “I keep worrying that they’ll never forgive me,” he said sadly, with worried eyes.

  “Children always forgive parents who love them.” She smiled then, and the light in her eyes touched his heart. “I even forgave mine for dying.” The agony her parents’ death had brought her had turned her childhood into a nightmare, and doomed her to a life in institutions and among strangers until she was an adult. But in the end it had made her a deeper, more caring person, and given her compassion for others’ failings, tragedies, and ills, just as she felt now for his.

  “Thank you for listening to me. I don’t know why, but I knew you would understand … or maybe I do know why. You are a very strong woman with a kind heart,” Jean-Charles said quietly as they continued to hold hands.

  “I’m no stronger than you are, Jean-Charles. This is all very recent. You made a very big decision, and your whole life is in an upheaval. I promise you, it will all settle down again.” She looked reassuring and calm, and he found himself soaking up the comfort of all she said.

  He smiled looking at her, his eyes a deep vibrant blue. Hers were green and crystal clear. “Why is it that I believe you? You are a very soothing woman. And at the same time very convincing.” Everything about Timmie exuded strength.

  “I think beyond the fear and guilt, you know what I’m saying is true.”

  “Do you always speak the truth?” he asked her. It was an interesting question, which deserved an honest answer from her.

  “As often as I can.” She smiled more broadly then. “Most of the time, people don’t like to hear it.” She remembered her last meeting with Zack as she said it. It was six weeks before, and she had never heard from him again, and knew she never would. Much to her own surprise, it no longer mattered. It was as though he had never existed in her life, and in fact, he hadn’t. All he had ever been was a convenience and an illusion. Jean-Charles was a deeply loving, caring man. She could see it in his eyes, and had known it since the previous October. She had viewed him differently then. He belonged to someone else. Now he seemed to be floating in space, trying desperately to find his footing. He wasn’t used to being on such slippery ground, and he was finding it hard to live with. Just talking to Timmie helped, more than he had ever expected. His intention when he asked to meet her for a drink was simply to spend an hour or two in her very charming company. Now, much to his own astonishment, he was finding it was something else. He had no idea what, but something about her stirred him deeply, and he felt a powerful, inexplicable, almost irresistible link to her.

  “Thank you for listening,” Jean-Charles said, feeling vulnerable and slightly foolish. Four months before, he had provided strength and comfort for her, and now the tables had turned, and she was doing the same for him. More than he realized just then, it was a fair exchange. “What a shame you’re not staying a few days longer. But then, I don’t suppose it’s very amusing for you, sitting here and listening to me tell you my troubles.”

  “We all go through hard times. I’ve had mine too. We all do. Don’t feel guilty about yours. In the end, that’s what makes us human.” He realized again as he looked at her what an exceptional woman she was, to have come so far, had so much pain, still retain her compassion and humanity, and have come out the other end. And as he was thinking that, she was having almost the identical thoughts about him. “I’m sorry I’m not staying for a few extra days this time too. I hate leaving Paris. I don’t even speak the language, but it has always been the city of my heart. I love coming here every chance I get.”

  “It’s a beautiful city,” he said, smiling at her. “I still appreciate it, even though I’ve lived here all my life.”

  “Are you originally from Paris?”

  “I am, although my family came from Lyon. I still have cousins there, and in Dordogne. That’s a lovely part of the country too. It’s horse country for us,” he said, trying to lighten the moment after his heartfelt confessions to her. He had bared his soul, and it embarrassed him somewhat.

  “I’ve actually been there once, to visit friends,” Timmie said. And then for no reason in particular she told him about Blake, how she had fallen instantly in love with him, wanted to adopt him, and lost him within days. Listening to her, his heart went out to her again. It was one more loss for her. “I’m so sorry that happened,” he said sympathetically, his big eyes deep into hers.

  “It was worth loving him, even if only for a few days. He was a lovely little boy.” Jean-Charles found himself admiring her again for her huge heart.

  He glanced at his watch then, and saw that he had to leave. He hated to leave her now, it had made him feel so much better talking
to her. He was sorry that they didn’t live in the same city and could be friends. They always had so much to say.

  As though reading his mind, she looked at him with a smile as he stood up. “You should come to California sometime. Maybe now that you’re free, you will.” It might give him something to look forward to, and a brief change of scene, although it was so far away for him.

  “Perhaps. I haven’t been there in a long time. I go mostly to New York.”

  “That’s not nearly as much fun,” she chided him, and walked to where he stood, and then, as though an electric current had gone through both of them, she stood looking up at him. And as he looked down at her, he said not a word. She had a moment of brief, total insanity, and almost found herself drifting into his arms. She had to stop herself and resist a nearly irresistible pull, and she wondered if he felt it too. Surely not, she told herself, as he took a step back and looked at her. Just as she had felt it, he looked as though he had just been shaken by an electric shock. For a long moment, neither of them knew what to say. And then, feeling foolish, he thanked her for the champagne.

  “Have a safe trip back to California,” he said, groping for something to say on the way out. They had said so much, and now he could no longer find the right words.

  “I’m actually going to New York for a few days. I won’t be back in California till next week,” she said, feeling dazed. They were both filling the air with empty words. There was something much bigger and deeper happening between them. If Timmie had believed in it, she would have called it love at first sight, but she had long since given up romantic notions like that. And so had he. This had to be something else. Perhaps a deep and unspoken admiring bond, which would evolve into a real friendship one day. She tried to tell herself it was that. “Take good care of yourself, Jean-Charles,” she said, searching his eyes again, as though the answer to her questions was there. But all she saw was her own confusion mirrored in his.

  “And you as well,” he said. “Call me if I can ever do anything for you, like medical advice.” It was all he could offer her now. But this was entirely different from the exchanges they had shared before. This was far deeper and more powerful than that. It had the force of a tidal wave.

  He walked to the doorway and she followed him, and then just before he left he gave her a card with all his numbers, address, and e-mail on it, “in case she needed him,” and asked her for hers. She jotted them down on a piece of paper and handed them to him, and gave him a hug as though they were old friends. “Au revoir,” she said, and he smiled.

  “Merci, Timmie,” he said in his deliciously French-accented words. And then without saying anything more to her, he left, and she stood staring at the door he had gently closed, as Jade walked into the room, and looked at her. Timmie turned to stare at her with wide, stunned eyes.

  “Are you okay?” Jade asked, glancing at her in disbelief. In twelve years, she had never seen Timmie look like that. Nor had Timmie ever felt anything even remotely like it. Not even in October when she had met him before. Everything had been different this time, as were they.

  “I’m fine,” Timmie said, turning away, pretending to tidy up the room. She had to do something to keep from running after him. Whatever had just happened had confused her totally. It was dizzying. She felt as though the roof had just fallen on her head.

  And then Jade looked at her again. “Oh my God, did he kiss you?” She couldn’t think of any other explanation for why Timmie looked like that.

  “Of course not,” Timmie said in a strong, clear voice. “We just talked.” She felt fiercely protective of all they’d said, and offered no more explanation than that.

  “About what?” Jade asked, instantly suspicious, since technically, he was still a married man.

  “Everything. Life. Children. His divorce.”

  “Jesus, I remember all that.” She was so grateful now to be with a single man. “Has he moved out yet?” She knew all the questions to ask, as David wandered into the room.

  “Has who moved out yet?” David looked confused.

  “The French doctor. Timmie just had a drink with him.”

  “He seems nice.”

  “He’ll be a lot nicer after he’s divorced,” Jade said tartly, and Timmie said nothing at all, while her assistants talked, unaware of the state she was in. Timmie could hardly breathe or think.

  “Don’t be so paranoid,” David scolded her. “Give the guy a chance.”

  “I don’t want the same thing to happen to Timmie that happened to me,” Jade said, glancing at her boss. Timmie was standing there, looking thunderstruck.

  “Are you okay?” David asked her, far more gently than Jade had. He could see that something earth-shattering had happened to her.

  “I don’t know,” Timmie said honestly. “Something weird just happened to me.” It was almost frightening, the feeling was so strong.

  “Maybe it happened to him too,” David said hopefully. “He looks like a mensch to me. I approve.” Timmie smiled.

  “Not so fast,” Jade added, and then David beamed.

  “Do you know what day this is?” David asked them both and they looked blank.

  “Thursday?” Timmie offered, looking vague.

  “That would be correct. But better than that, February fourteenth. Valentine’s Day. Maybe Cupid struck.”

  Timmie smiled and shook her head. “I’m past all that. He’s just a friend,” she insisted, and after that they ordered room service and had dinner together. She never mentioned Jean-Charles again, but couldn’t help wondering if he’d call that night. He didn’t, and she had already gone to bed, when she heard an e-mail come in, in the living room of her suite. She couldn’t resist getting up to see who it was from.

  Her heart pounded when she saw it was from him. She clicked it open and stared at what he’d written, devouring every word.

  “I am deeply troubled after seeing you today. I had a wonderful time, and now I can’t get you out of my mind. You looked beautiful. Thank you for talking to me. You are so very wise and kind. Have I gone mad, or are you as troubled as I? J-C.”

  She instantly sat down to write, with shaking hands, wondering how much she should say, and then decided to be as honest with him as she had told him that she was. All of Jade’s warnings meant nothing to her.

  “Yes, I am troubled too. And I also loved seeing you. I think the building fell on my head. I have no idea what it means. What do you think? Is insanity contagious? Do I need medical advice? If so, please answer immediately. Thinking of you. T.” It was actually more than she intended to say, but she sent it before she could stop herself or take it back. He answered her immediately.

  “Insanity is contagious. Extremely dangerous medical condition. Be careful. Perhaps we have both fallen ill. Whatever this is, clearly very serious case. When are you coming back? J-C.”

  “I don’t know. Happy Valentine’s Day. T.”

  “Oh my God … that explains everything. The work of Cupidon? I will call you in New York. Bon voyage. Je t’embrasse. J-C.”

  She could easily guess that Cupidon was Cupid in French, and she knew that Je t’embrasse meant “I kiss you.” So Jade was right after all. He had kissed her … and her heart pounded harder still at the thought of his calling her on her cell in New York. She wanted to resist, she knew she had to. This was truly insanity. She lived in Los Angeles and he lived here. He wasn’t even divorced yet. And sane adults did not fall in love at first sight. It just didn’t happen, she told herself. She wouldn’t let it. But even as she thought the words, she knew she had never been so taken with anyone in her life. The seed had been planted months before. Maybe his thank-you note with the sunset had been a message in a bottle after all. And now, on Valentine’s Day, the roof had caved in on them both. And the oddest thing of all was that it had happened to both of them at exactly the same time. All she could do now was hope he would call her in New York as he said he would. And then what would they do? She had absolutely no idea.r />
  Chapter 12

  The flight to New York seemed endless to her. Timmie hardly spoke to David and Jade, and this time she couldn’t sleep, as she always did. She couldn’t even work, or read.

  All she did was think of Jean-Charles. She still didn’t understand what had happened to both of them the night before. It was all very nice to say it was the work of “Cupidon,” but what the hell had hit them, and why? She couldn’t help wondering if it had actually occurred four months before. She didn’t even know what had happened. But it had been obvious to both of them that something had. Whatever it was.

  They went through customs in New York, and she declared the few things she had bought. David went outside to find their limousine, while Jade looked for a porter, and by habit, Timmie turned her cell phone on as she followed David outside so she could smoke. The moment she turned her phone on, it rang. It was Jean-Charles.

  “Hello?” She had just walked through the door, as David motioned to her. He had found their car. She signaled to him and got in, as David went back inside for their bags.

  “How was your trip?” He sounded very French and very sexy on the phone. She smiled just listening to him.

  “Very long,” she admitted. “I was thinking about you.”

  “So was I. Where are you now? At the hotel?”

  “No. I just got off the plane. Your timing was perfect. I just turned on my phone, and there you were.”

  “I thought about you all day,” he confessed. It was nine o’clock at night for him, and had been a very long day. He had just seen his last patient at the hospital, he told her, and was in his car, on his way home. “Timmie, what happened yesterday?” He sounded as thunderstruck as she was, and as confused.

  “I don’t know,” she said softly. “It was Valentine’s Day. Maybe that explains everything.” She couldn’t believe she was saying that to him. She had protected her heart for years, and had promised herself celibacy again, and now she was falling all over him, and talking about Valentine’s Day. Maybe she truly had gone insane. But if so, he sounded as crazy as she did, and she loved that he had called her. It made her feel like a kid again. And then she thought of something she wanted to ask him. “Was there some hidden message in the thank-you note you sent me last fall? The one with the sunset in Normandy on it?” She was dying to know.