by Risk, Mona
The display of stunning beauties with model figures molded in high couture dresses rooted her in place. With their long hair curling on their shoulders or cascading down their backs, female guests moved from group to group garnering admiring male gazes.
Good Lord, what was she doing here? Barbara patted her short curls with anxious fingers. She’d never been shy but the babble of witty chatter and high pitched laugher paralyzed her tongue and brain.
His hand at her elbow, Lou bent toward her. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you sure it’s the right place?”
“Absolutely. I recognized Diane Salimor, Will O’Leary, Maria Romano, and many more TV personalities. Here’s our KNR producer, Monte Damon.”
“Hi there, Lou.” The two men shook hands and the newcomer sent her a curious look. “Where have you been hiding this lovely lady?” Monte flashed a charming smile.
“Damon, meet Barbara Ramsey. She’s Roxanne’s mother and a dear friend.”
“Her mother or her sister?” Monte’s eyebrows lifted in disbelief and she burst out laughing.
“I’ve heard that before. Nice meeting you, Monte.” Oh well TV personalities weren’t too different from the normal people she knew in Lexington.
“So Lou is escorting you to our party because your daughter is on duty somewhere at the moment,” Monte said, drawing his own conclusion. “We’re like family here. I appreciate Roxanne’s work a lot. Very ethical. Although in our profession, reporters often go overboard with their stories.” His words were like music to Barbara’s ears.
Motherly pride filled her heart. She never bragged about her kids, but boy did she love hearing flattering comments about them—especially coming from VIPs.
“Thank you. I’m sure you hear a lot of interesting stories here.”
“If you like interesting stories, I can give you a sample, without going far.” The big producer winked at Lou and burst out laughing. “Come my dear. Take a tour with me and I’ll regale you with funny gossip.”
“Damon!” Lou’s call held a warning, but his colleague ignored him and tugged at her hand. She swirled her head and gave Lou a helpless shrug.
His scowl followed them, but Monte stopped by the next group and introduced her to two TV actresses.
“Lynn Reynolds?” Barbara smiled to her ears. “Oh my God, your show is my favorite soap opera.” Lou was now chatting with two men and a woman. Barbara wouldn’t worry about him. Meeting with Lynn Reynolds from Loves in Our Lives was definitely an unexpected bonus of her trip to Paris. “So what’s going to happen to Sharina? I hope she won’t be convicted for killing the bastard who abused her.”
The lovely actress chuckled. “I’m delighted you enjoy our show, but I haven’t seen the end of the script yet.”
“What do you think should happen to her?” Monte asked curiously. “The next script is not finalized and we’re open for suggestions.”
Oh dear, she had a chance to influence the outcome of her favorite TV show. Wait till her girls hear about this. “Sharina is a victim, not a criminal. The real villain is Robert who’s been abusing her for years. She should be absolved and helped. Maybe she should join a support group, get some therapy to cope with life. Maybe she’ll fall in love with the psychologist in charge of the group.”
“Maybe she’ll offer him coffee and cookies,” Lou suggested from behind her.
Tingles crawled along her spine. She hadn’t realized he’d approached them.
“Excellent suggestions.” Monte rubbed his hands.
“I like it,” Lynn said. “I don’t want my Sharina persona to end in jail.”
“Hmm,” Lou muttered in her ear. “You’d give your full support to a criminal because she suffered at the hands of a man. I better watch my back, sweetheart, in case I unconsciously upset you.” His boyish expression was so endearing, she wanted to wrap her arms around his neck.
“Don’t be silly.” She smacked his arm and caught Monte’s sarcastic glance.
Waiters passed with champagne flutes and other drinks at the right moment for her to calm her thirst and her racing pulse.
Lou ushered her to another group and introduced her to his colleagues, some with prestigious names she recognized having seen them on the news channels.
A smashing reporter shot her a few questions about her first day in Paris. “If you don’t mind I’ll use your impressions in my next article.”
You bet she didn’t mind. “No problem at all.” The young man texted a few words on his smart phone.
“He’s so cute,” Barbara whispered to Lou. “I wish Tiffany was here.”
Lou chuckled. “Matchmaking for your daughter?”
“All the time, although it never worked.”
“But you never tried your matchmaking skills for yourself? Damon hasn’t stopped watching you. I have to warn you he’s separated, but his divorce is not even finalized.”
“What on Earth is the matter with you?” She glared at him. Could he be jealous?
No way. Not him, the man reputed to have enjoyed so many lovers. She cast a dubious glance around her. How many of these gorgeous women had graced his bed?
Oh bummer, she wouldn’t let silly suspicions spoil her fun.
After an hour, the guests were invited to the next room where they served themselves at a lavish buffet. Always at her side, Lou guided her to a table and soon Monte Damon, Diane Salimor, Will O’Leary and two other guests joined them.
Anchorpersons definitely knew how to talk and entertain guests. Barbara didn’t stop laughing at the jokes and gossip their companions exchanged.
After the party, Lou walked her to her room. “I had a blast. Thank you for inviting me.”
****
Lou was glad she had a good time, and she’d certainly mesmerized the males present with her radiant smile, witty remarks, and bubbling laughter. For a change, he’d been quieter than usual. Annoyance and relief had warred inside him as he watched her navigate her way between celebrities, all experts at flattering beautiful women.
“I’m glad you enjoyed our party.”
She didn’t invite him in, but he collected his kiss, held her for a brief instant against him, and let her go with a sigh. He shook his head and headed to his room and his shower.
It was only 7:30 am when his phone rang and jolted him out of sweet dreams where Barbara starred, sexy and vivacious. He scowled. Who would call at this ungodly hour? He’d talked to his staff not long ago. Preparing a sharp reprimand for Monica and her inappropriate selfishness, he grabbed his phone and squinted at the digital display. It wasn’t his phone ringing, but the room one. He jumped out of bed and answered. “Lou Roland.”
“Hi Lou. It’s Barbara. I hope I’m not waking you.”
His eyes rounded. Barbara calling so early? “Not at all. I was on my way to the shower. Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, but I need you.” She needed him at 7:30 am?
A smile stretched his lips. Maybe she’d had trouble sleeping. Just like him. Part of his night had been spent tossing around, moving out of bed for one more drink, turning on and off the TV, and barking last minute orders to the unfortunate reporter who’d called him with an emergency question. If Barbara hadn’t been sleeping because she’d missed him, he could certainly help. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
He rushed to the shower—a hot one this time— and dashed out to dry his invigorated body. A quick shave nipped a sliver of skin off his throat. He dabbed the drop of blood and got dressed in the first pair of pants that he reached in the closet and a V-neck polo easy to remove.
A minute later, his hair still dripping, he knocked on her door.
“Coming.” Her sweet voice sent his pulse into double-time.
She opened the door and he almost fell backward at the sight of Barbara with one baby girl in her left arm and another hung on her right hip.
“But you said you needed me…”
“Of course, I need you. Elias is sick. The Diabs
were afraid the babies may catch his cold. Greg had to get them back last night while Roxanne was on duty at some dinner where you sent her. Poor Roxanne she was exhausted and brought them to me at one am to have a few good hours of sleep.”
“Ah.” Leaning against the door, Lou had trouble hearing her over the babies’ crying as he digested all this information. Not that he cared, but the obvious conclusion was that Barbara had no intention of getting back into bed. And if she did, it would be with two nine-month old girls. Not with him.
“Lou, you really have your reporters working too hard. We have to help.”
So now it was his fault that Barbara was stuck with two screaming bundles. He glared at the reddish faces but didn’t dare protest.
How did she expect him to help? He didn’t know the abc of babies and families. And their screaming would soon wake up the elite patrons of the George V Hotel. Stroking his forehead to forestall a humongous headache, Lou groaned.
“Can’t you make them quiet down?”
“I will in a minute. They need their bottles.”
“Bottles?” He repeated with a haggard look.
“Lou, am I talking Chinese or what? I have to warm their bottles of milk. I don’t have a microwave or a bottle warmer so I’ll do it under the faucet hot water.”
“Okay, whatever you say.”
“Sit down in this chair next to the bar.”
“Thank you, but I don’t need a drink this early in the morning.”
“Who’s talking about a drink? Lou, sit, please.”
Did the woman realize she used the same words he used to order his bulldog into obedience?
“Lou are you going to help me or not?” Her eyes flashed dangerously.
“Yes, of course.”
Barbara with two crying bundles was not the Barbara he’d known so far. He sat in the chair to appease her. And was immediately smacked with two wriggling babies.
“Don’t drop them. Try to calm them down. We don’t want to wake the building.”
“No kidding.”
“Cutie pies, smile at Uncle Lou,” Barbara urged from the bathroom.
“Cutie pies, please stop crying,” Lou begged. “I’ll give you a big check to buy many dolls. Please, please,… shut up.” He groaned between gritted teeth. They didn’t care less about his words. He shoved a hand in his pocket and extricated his keys. He jangled them in front of the babies. They instantly stopped crying. One giggled and the other followed suit.
“Lou, what’s going on? They’re too quiet.”
“Don’t worry. I haven’t killed them.” Yet, he added to himself. He settled the girls snuggly against him and kept shaking the keys. Two pairs of chubby hands tried to reach them. He moved the keys higher and laughed at their antics and grimaces. “Hey, but you’re really cute.”
He bounced them on his knees and was rewarded with peals of laughter.
“Wow, you’re so good with babies.” A bottle of milk in each hand, Barbara smiled her approval.
Him, good with babies? What a joke. “Do you realize it’s the first time in my life I’ve held babies?”
“You’re a natural, then. Can you give them their milk?” She shoved a nipple in one tiny mouth. “Keep your arm wrapped around Lucia and hold her bottle. Great,” she added as he obeyed without comments. Just like his bulldog. Sit, hold, give. “Now give me your keys.” Yes, just like his dog. He gave her the keys, and received a bottle.
“Open your mouth, little girl.” Julia latched on her bottle with the same eagerness he gulped his Scotch.
“Bless you, Lou. My head was about to burst from their screams.”
“Really? I hadn’t even noticed the noise.” They both burst out laughing.
“If this is your first time, I have to take a picture.” She opened her handbag and fetched her camera. “Smile.” He obliged and gave her a tender smile. “How I wish I could be with you in this picture.”
“Me too.” Actually he’d rather have her on his lap and the babies deep asleep.
He had a feeling their tête-à-tête visit to Paris was soon to be history.
In fact a few hours later, they strolled along the Champs-Elysées, each of them pushing a stroller. Lou sent a quick prayer to his maker that no reporter would take a lunch break on the famous avenue. The last thing he wanted was his picture pushing a stroller on the news.
Her Paris Tour guide in hand, Barbara elaborated about the various shops, cafés, cinema, and even the clipped horse-chestnut trees. At the Arc de Triomphe, she insisted on reading about every one of Napoleon’s victories and gasped with shock at the sight of a little boy peeing against the famous arch.
“What you see here is a shame,” she told her granddaughters. “Don’t ever desecrate a landmark monument, sweetie pies. Even if you don’t have a weenie.”
Grinning at her outrage, Lou whisked her away before she chastised the boy’s mother.
In the evening, Roxanne hired a babysitter for her daughters. After dinner at a prestigious restaurant with three TV executives and their wives, Barbara gave Lou his kiss on the cheek. He managed to rain a few more on her temple and she left him with a quivering smile and a puzzling look. But Lou had to soak his overheated and rigid body under another cold shower.
Their first week in Paris was almost at an end after a string of visits to monuments and museums during the day with the company of Julia and Lucia who now adored him and insisted on hanging on his neck or bouncing on his knees. The delicious lunches at various sidewalk cafés turned into bottle feeding time. At night, their succession of business dinners was followed by Lou’s eagerly awaited reward. The kisses turned hotter and his showers colder.
Chapter Five
“Tomorrow we’ll attend the opening of the TV Network Conference,” Lou announced as they settled for their first tête-à-tête dinner in a simple restaurant in the Quartier St-Michel, the students’ neighborhood around the Sorbonne.
“It’s a fun place. Look at the decorations. Like an old library,” Lou pointed to the wall painted with bookshelves and leather-bound books.
Her gaze riveted on the young people necking around them and she forgot to answer. An aura of sensuality hovered in the dimness. Lou observed her.
Her flushed cheeks gave her away. Ill at ease, she lowered her eyes to her plate and played with her food.
Lou repressed a grin. “They are young, enjoying life.”
Well she was a bit old-fashioned and holding onto her moral values. “I’m so glad I never allowed my daughters to spend time in France during their college years.”
“If you’re finished with your dinner, we can go,” he suggested, although he hated to see their evening end too early.
“Yes, let’s go.”
The night was cold and the rain pelted their raincoats. Lou hailed a taxi.
At the door of her room, he gathered her against him and she touched her lips to his cheek. Lou didn’t kiss her back. Yet his body throbbed with the need to hold her.
“Stay with me tonight,” he begged.
Like a scared dove, she shivered in his arms, and then spun and opened her door. “Please, Lou, be reasonable. Stop that game.”
“Game?” He groaned. He’d thought he’d manage to seduce her with patience and persistence. And here she used her soft, sensual voice to ask him to be reasonable when he was on fire. “Barbara, my darling, you’re very special to me.” He grabbed her arms and peered into the turquoise eyes that were becoming his universe.
“You too, Lou, but I don’t want to be treated like your many girlfriends.” Her warm breath fanned his face and fueled his ardor.
“Never, Barbara. Believe me, I have the utmost respect, and friendship, and regard for you, but I want you, more than I’ve ever wanted any woman.” Damn it, he’d never had to beg before. Women usually raced him to his bed.
“Don’t push, Lou.” She dropped her forehead on his shoulder and he kept her pressed against him.
Afraid to lose her with his insist
ence, he released her and sighed. “I’m sorry, my darling. Have sweet dreams.”
She cupped his cheeks and caught his gaze. “I want you too, Lou. But I may hate you after. I’m not ready for that yet.” She gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and closed the door in his face.
Dumbstruck, he smacked his forehead. All he’d wanted when he invited Barbara to Paris was a good friend who could share with him the nice family atmosphere he’d never known, make him forget about the heartache Monica had sown into his life.
Why had he suddenly decided he wanted Barbara in his arms? He knew all along that she’d been a faithful wife, a widow loyal to her husband’s memory, and a dedicated mother who lived and breathed for her children. Why had he let her get under his skin?
****
Eyes closed, Barbara leaned against the door of her room and wrapped her arms around herself. How long would she be able to resist the onslaught of his charm? Her body tingled all over. Would it be so bad to taste his kisses and lay in his arms?
Oh David, why did you leave me? More than seven years had gone since the last time they made love. She’d never missed him as much as tonight. But he would never come back.
She thought she’d have some innocent fun visiting Paris with Lou who’d really become her best buddy. They trusted each other. They chatted together, really talked and listened. They knew everything about each other. True, he never revealed details of his social life, but she’d heard a lot of gossip from her daughter. When he invited her, he’d only insisted he wished to share her family joys.
She couldn’t label him a selfish womanizer. Never. With her, he’d been anything but…
He still had to reveal the reasons for his prolonged bachelorhood. Had a woman badly hurt him in the past? Probably. Lou was too much of a decent guy.
Her head ached and she pressed her palms to her temples.
If she ever wanted to remarry, she would choose Lou without hesitation. But he’d never mentioned any desire for commitment. And frankly, she would never consider marrying again. Not when she’d gotten used to her freedom.