She grabbed the cloth on her tray, plunging her hand down into his lap. Horrified, she realized what she had now just done. Her hand was against his crotch!
Gastien was red, but she was ten shades redder. She jerked her hand away.
The men just sat there mouths open, mirth in their eyes. Oh, to have this moment caught for eternity!
“I am so sorry! What was I thinking?” She stammered, “Wh-what must you think of me!”
Gastien stared at her, unable to speak. Where she had touched him was on fire. If he was not so embarrassed, he would have been rock hard. How could he be so hot and so not ready?
Suddenly, looking into her eyes, Gastien started to giggle. Then Sophie joined in. Pretty soon both of them were giggling like a couple of foolish children caught comparing their privates.
“Sophie,” Gastien managed to get out, “I do believe you have embarrassed yourself almost as much as I have. It is good to know I am not the only one with something wrong with me as of late.”
He reached out to touch her arm. She pulled away. He must think she was some kind of whore, grabbing at his lap like that.
Gastien continued, “I don’t bite Sophie. I promise. At least, not in public.”
She gasped. He did think she was a whore!
“Please, I-I meant no harm saying that; I was trying to tease you! I failed miserably.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s start over. Let’s relax and be amis, ok?”
She nodded and then confessed, “I can’t believe I did that. I am so sorry.”
“Well, worse things have happened to me than having a woman touch my crotch.” He smiled at her kindly. “I know you did not mean to. You know, last night when I left I walked into a tree!”
She laughed. “Seriously?”
“Oui. I guess we both are having a rough time of it lately. Let’s just calm down. You know what? How about if you come and sit with us a while after you get done tonight? That way these guys will be less likely to roast you alive when I am not around.”
What the hell did you just say, he thought. Are you crazy?
“I don’t know. I don’t think it would be wise to sit with a bunch of men.”
“You will be safe. You can sit by me. I protected you last night, non?”
“Oui. You did. “
“Then come sit by me, Petite Oiseau, and tell me your story.”
What the hell am I doing, Gastien wondered. The last thing I need is to have her next to me. I must be nuts or something!
The guys were pretending not to watch, but he knew they were.
“Don’t all sit there thinking this is something it is not,” he declared. “Sophie here just needs to feel less scared of you brutes. That is all.”
Sophie’s heart sank. So he did only want to make her comfortable. How foolish to think for even a minute that he might be interested. Still, at least she could sit by him a while. She loved the smell of his fragrance; the smell of his maleness underneath it.
“Maybe I will,” she replied. “I have to get back to work now. Let me clean this table and bring you a new kisskey.”
Gastien laughed.
It was the happiest he had sounded since arriving in Montmartre.
Soon she was busy with other tables. Gastien was left wondering why in the world he had just invited her to sit by him.
What was even more puzzling was how much he was looking forward to it.
IX
The evening crawled by. Switching to absinthe, Gastien became quite drunk.
All of a sudden, in his mind he heard voices from the past. Rémy commanded “Move your hips like a woman. Do you fucking understand?”
He shook his head to get the voice out. “Tell me how much you like it, Gastien. I want you to look at me, and tell me how much you like it.”
He blinked back tears. Sébastien’s voice in his head reminded him of how dirty he really was. “So how long, how long, how long have you been a prostitute, Gastien? How long? A prostitute? Gastien? Gastien?”
His hands started to shake. He quickly gulped down the drink in front of him and ordered another. He wondered if everyone at the table could smell the men’s sex on him.
Forcing the voices away, he drank some more. Gastien concentrated on making sure he kept involved in the conversation at the table.
He was laughing loudly at something crass said by one of the guys when Sophie approached the table. Mic slid down the bench.
“Here, Sophie, have that spot next to Gastien. “
She hesitated. Gastien was suddenly quiet, staring at the table. He did not seem to want her there.
“Perhaps I should leave. I am quite tired,” she said in a voice she hoped sounded sincere.
Gastien continued to stare at the table. Finally, he looked up at her.
“Oui. Perhaps you should,” he said flatly.
Sophie felt the pain all the way to her toes. He had decided he didn’t even want to have her sit by him! He had been so nice earlier. What had happened?
“Gastien, are you mad at me or something?” she asked softly.
He continued to look up at her without smiling.
“Non. How could I be mad at you? I hardly know you. And, quite truthfully, it is best kept that way. Go away, Petite Oiseau. I don’t want you here.”
Sophie felt as though she had been skewered and hung to roast.
“Oh! Well, excuse me, then. I – ” she turned and walked to the street as tears filled her eyes, spilling down her cheeks.
The whole table was quiet. No one knew where to look. It was now everyone else’s turn to stare at the table.
All, that is, except for Mic. Mic glowered at his best ami.
“That, my ami, is the most asshole-ish thing I have ever seen anyone do,” stated Mic finally. “You should be ashamed.”
Gastien refused to meet Mic’s eyes.
“What do you know about it, Mic? It is better this way. We don’t fit. I am not right for her. And now it is done.”
He swallowed hard. Looking around the table he could see that everyone was uncomfortable.
“The next round is on me, gentlemen!” he said in with a forced joviality.
His eyes bright with tears, he gulped down his drink and stood up.
“I need to take a piss,” he slurred.
Good thing he was drunk. That way they would not know he was talking funny because he felt like crying.
X
As he walked to the privy, Gastien told himself it was for the best. He had done the right thing. She was too innocent, too good for him. What had he been thinking, asking her to join them? Why tempt fate?
But he wanted to touch that hair so badly!
Stop that, he scolded himself, where does it leave you if you end up in a relationship with her? Where does it leave her? Alone and heartbroken. You would just end up using her and then letting her go. She would wonder why.
Gastien clenched his jaw. He was not going to give up his freedom for any woman. More importantly, he was not going to get into a relationship with someone where his heart so obviously was going to intrude.
Even if he wanted to get involved, what if she somehow found out about his past? How embarrassing it would be for her to be associated with him! He was at least decent enough to realize that. Peace had been made with the way he had gotten his studio, but that did not mean he should let it hurt Sophie’s life. Besides, what if the men searched him out and found her with him? They would hurt her!
He buttoned his trousers and started back, determined to remove her from his mind.
Gastien all of a sudden broke into a run. He was running down the street before he knew it, not even realizing he was going after her. He frantically searched for her. Finally he saw her.
“SOPHIE! WAIT!”
She stopped, but did not turn. Gastien could swear she was wiping her face, but it was dark; he was not close enough to tell. When he caught up to her, he was out of breath and sweating. His beret had become half loose, hanging by a few hairs and one
pin.
She looked up at him with raw hurt in her eyes.
“What do you want, Gastien? Have you thought of another way to embarrass me? Too bad your amis can’t see it!”
“Sophie, it is for the best! You don’t know me. You wouldn’t want to, believe me! Still, I won’t have you walking these dark streets alone. It is dangerous for a young woman to do so.”
She snorted. “I do so every night, Gastien. Otherwise I would not get home.”
“Well, tonight, I will walk you home. I don’t want you out here alone.”
Sophie looked at him calmly.
“Go to hell, Gastien.”
She turned and walked away.
Stunned, he just stood there. No woman had ever said that to him! What was wrong with her anyway? He had offered to walk her home! Women!
He saw a cabriolet outside another restaurant and ran over.
“Here,” he said, digging out some money. “Go get the woman up there and take her home. This should cover it.” He turned and walked back to his amis
XI
Looking around at the group, Gastien growled, “Just drop it. As I said, the next round is on me.”
He sat down and deliberately changed the subject. Gastien also proceeded to make himself even more inebriated, finally ending up sick in the back of Au Lapin Agile.
Mic sighed, getting up to go stand watch over him. It would not do to have a pickpocket attack his ami while he was vulnerable, puking his guts out. Mic came up to him as he was on his hands and knees vomiting.
“Well, Gaz, I must say, it couldn’t happen to a better person. If I did not love you so much I would give you a good punch in the face right now.” Gastien was silent. He vomited some more and then tried to stand. Mic helped him up. “You smell almost as bad right now as you did when you lived in the alleys. Come on, you are going home.”
Gastien leaned into Mic, and Mic half carried him toward home.
“Mic, you are right. I am an asshole. Don’t you see? That is exactly why I did what I did.”
No reply.
“I mean, it is better this way. She needs to know that I am not a good enough person for her!”
No reply.
Mic unlocked Gastien’s front door and led him to the bed.
“Get your sandals off,” Mic said coldly.
Gastien fell over trying to get them off. Mic swore, pulling Gastien up to the bed before kneeling to take off his ami’s sandals.
“I don’t like you very much right now, Gastien.”
He pulled Gastien’s shirt up over his head. “Lay back and lift your hips.” He pulled off Gastien’s capris. “I am throwing these clothes outside. They stink like whiskey and vomit. You can rinse them tomorrow. Here, give me your damn beret, too.” He ran his hands through Gastien’s hair, searching for the two long pins. “You can sleep in your underwear. I am not about to take those off.”
“By the way,” Mic continued, “you have vomit in your hair. I am not going to struggle to get you outside, although I would very much like to dunk your head into a bucket of cold water. You can just sleep with it in your hair. After all, you don’t need anyone to care for you. Stand up!”
Gastien stood, wobbling. Mic pulled down the covers then gave Gastien a push. He fell into the bed.
“You’re on your own, just like you want to be.”
Mic walked to the door.
“Mic, she told me to go to hell!” Gastien said in a shocked voice.
Mic turned and looked at Gastien.
“Good.”
Mic let the door slam. Gastien groaned. He passed out a few minutes later.
XII
Oh, mon Dieu he was hung over. Not only could he hear his heartbeat in his head, the light in the room made him want to vomit. He must have forgotten to close the shutters by his bed yesterday. How had he gotten home? Why was he still in his underwear? Mon Dieu, why did his bed smell like vomit?
Gastien groaned while sitting up. The room spun, so he let himself fall back down. Placing one foot on the floor, he gingerly waited to see if he could stop the spinning. After a few moments, it seemed to have stopped. He sat up again, slowly. An awful smell was following him as he sat up. Looking down at his hair, he realized that it was caked with dried vomit. No wonder he stunk!
He had to somehow get outside to the privy before he wet the bed. He might do more than that, the way his stomach was rumbling. Where were his clothes? It made no sense to put on clean ones at this point. Why was his underwear stained, and reeking of whiskey? Ah, oui. A whiskey had been spilled on him.
Wincing as he stood up, he dug around and found a pair of trousers in his dirty laundry. Pulling them on, he headed out back. Damn the sunlight anyway! Gastien shaded his eyes with his hand and made his way across the yard.
Afterward, he could not decide if he needed a bath or some coffee first. Both were things he was in desperate need of. Coffee, he would get that going first. Gastien cursed when he went to the cupboard and found that he was out of beans. Fils de pute! He needed coffee now!
Throwing on an old shirt, he went outside to knock on Mic’s door. Mic would have some beans.
Mic was already walking down the street, toward the park to paint.
“Hey, Mic! Got any beans I can borrow?” yelled Gastien. That was a mistake. The loudness of his voice insulted his pounding head.
Mic turned around, sighing. He walked back and went upstairs wordlessly. He did not ask Gaz up. Mic returned with a bag of beans, which he dumped in Gastien’s hand.
“You look like hell,” Mic stated.
He turned and started toward the park.
“Well, merci, Mic. Why are – “
“You stink like hell, too. Go take a bath.” Mic shook his head in disgust.
He turned back around and started walking again. “Just stay out of my way for awhile,” Mic called tiredly over his shoulder.
Gastien opened his mouth to reply and then stopped. What was he supposed to say to that? Something had happened that Mic was not too happy about.
Gastien went in to grind the beans. As the coffee brewed, he groaned. Merde! All of a sudden the memory of last night started coming back. Mic was mad because of how he had rebuffed Sophie. Well, he knew he had hurt her. The point was, it was for her own good; his too.
What did Mic know about it anyway? Mic was not haunted by horrific memories or voices of the past. Gastien was puzzled that those voices had surfaced last night when he was awake. He thought those men only visited him when he was asleep. Perhaps it was the absinthe. Or, maybe it was because he was interested in someone he should not be interested in. Maybe his own conscience was telling him to protect her.
Preparing a bath, Gastien sank gratefully into the water. After soaking a long time, Gastien dressed in normal peasant trousers and shirt. He did not feel very festive today.
Damn it, he was going to have to wash his sheets, and the clothes that he had seen out back. He could not expect the cleaning lady to clean up items smelling like vomit. Getting sick all over again while washing them was a real possibility.
Thinking about Sophie or last night caused further distress. He had made an ass of himself from the time he had arrived at Au Lapin Agile, probably even ruining Pierre’s party.
The hangover was so painful he could not even consider eating yet. He decided to get his washing done. That was a long chore out back. When he was finished Gastien felt like he could eat a little bit.
He walked down the street, stopping to buy some cheese and a petite baguette. The park was full of artists painting, so he watched them painting as he ate. Thank God he had kept this day free from appointments, knowing he would be going to a birthday party the night before! He was in no shape to see any paying customers today.
Gastien made sure he stayed out of Mic’s way. His ami had said he needed some time away from him, so he gave it. If Mic saw him, he gave no indication of it. A few other artists Gastien knew had greeted him, but he did not feel like ta
lking.
As he sat there, he still refused to think about what had happened. A melancholy mood permeated his mind. Life had never felt as hopeless as it did right now. One thing was for sure, Sophie was done with him.
The least he could do was make sure the woman got home safely after work. It was not good for any woman to roam the streets alone in the middle of the night, let alone one so little! Before going back to his studio, arrangements were made for a cabriolet to transport Sophie home at the end of her shifts.
Once Gastien was back inside of his sanctuary, he started to paint. It did not take long to realize that making love to the color was not going to be an escape today. Damn it anyway! Why did his hand only want to paint her?
Finally he gave up and let his hand paint as it wished. At the end of the afternoon, he had painted Sophie in several poses at Au Lapin Agile. He felt his heartbeat increase a little whenever he looked at them.
XIII
Shrugging it off, he realized it was time for dinner. Mic and he were supposed to go out for baeckoeffe. Mic had come home about a half hour ago, so he should show up at the door at any minute.
Finally he heard Mic on the steps. However, his ami did not come to the door. Gastien looked outside. There was Mic, walking down the street.
“Mic? Did you forget that we were going to eat at that little restaurant tonight?”
Mic turned around. “I don’t know what to say to you. I care for you more than anyone, Gaz, but your behavior last night was so damn out of line…”
“I was drunk!”
“Oh, come on. If you are going to make excuses, I have no time for you.” Mic turned away.
“Wait! Mic, what do you want from me? I am sorry!” Gastien said impatiently.
Mic turned back around. “You can say that again. You are real sorry.”
Gastien became defensive. “What did I do to you that made you so angry?”
“You did nothing to me. Look, we can have this out if you wish. We can go to your little restaurant, but I don’t think you are going to like what I have to say; so I don’t think a public place is the best choice. Do you want to go back inside and hear it? Or do you want to go on pretending an “I’m sorry” makes everything ok?”
Gastien: From Dream to Destiny: A Caddy Rowland Historical Family Saga/Drama (The Gastien Series Book 2) Page 7