All That the Heart Desires

by June Moonbridge

  I gazed into his face, which was illuminated by the setting sun, my own face in shadow. I didn’t know what to think when I saw surprise in his eyes. Was Dame right? Was my handshake really too strong for a woman? Did it unsettle him?

  I dropped his hand and hid mine behind my back. I knew he was waiting for me to introduce myself but I wasn’t about to give him my real name.

  “Anna,” I lied. He quickly realised that was all he was likely to get from me.

  “I confess, Anna,” he said, “I was distracted, which I’m usually not.”

  That was his poor attempt at an apology and explanation. But I knew he was telling the truth. I turned away from him, back to the car. Back to the edge. A foot—only a foot more and I would have driven right off. Dead and gone. I doubted much would be left of me. I heard him talking, obviously apologising, but my mind had wandered off.

  Turning around, I spotted his Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG almost in the same position as mine but facing up the hill, not over the edge. If a collision had happened, he might have been safe. I wouldn’t have been so lucky.

  I turned back to face him again. He was raking a hand through his black hair, his face a picture of remorse.

  “Can I go now?” I asked. My anger was gone but I didn’t want him to know that. I was still shaken from both the near accident and his presence; two things I didn’t want him to know.

  Surprise was written on his face and it was then that I realised I had missed something he had said. Too caught up in my own thoughts. He looked bemused and repeated his question.

  “Can I at least take you for a drink? As an apology.”

  I shook my head.

  “No thank you. I’m on my way home and, frankly, I’ve had enough excitement to last me the rest of the summer.” I saw he wanted to say something more, but I raised my hand to silence him. “I’m just too tired. Good night.”

  With shaking legs, I got in my car. I didn’t want to look at him again, although I knew the expression on his face must have been priceless. He’d been turned down. How many times had that happened in his life? In the last five years? I was pretty sure it had never happened.

  Before I managed to start the car, he was beside me holding the door. I didn’t want to, but I was forced to look at his almost flawless face again. Damn it! He looked so good and he smelled good. His scent carried on the breeze.

  “Please.”

  I couldn’t speak. Instead, I shook my head and started the car.

  “Where can I find you?” he asked again.

  “Can you move your car, please?”

  He stood beside the car for a few more moments and, if he had remained there, I might have been tempted to change my mind. However, he reluctantly turned and went back to his Mercedes.

  As I drove away, I glanced in the rear view mirror. He was standing in the middle of the road, then I turned into the bend and he was gone.

  It took me twice as long as usual to get home. The house Dame rented for me was small and the only one in darkness. I was still shaking. I wasn’t sure why. Was it the near car accident or was it meeting the golden boy, Lorcan Shore, face to face?

  I’d recognised him on the spot. His smell was just delicious. Great, I realised I was faced with another problem. Every time I saw him on television from now on, I would smell him. That was my curse. I was not able to forget a smell once I connected it to someone.

  Getting out of the car, I remembered almost every newspaper headline from the past few months. Although he had been champion five years in a row, at the end of each season, almost all were convinced that he was just a flash in the pan. And more and more articles focused on his private life, which was not that private anyway.

  As each race passed and the season progressed, however, the praise grew. At last he was compared with the legend himself, Ayrton Senna.

  Lorcan was my favourite, almost from the first day, but I never imagined I would ever see him in person.

  At the entrance to the house, I realised I’d forgotten my purse and house keys in the car. I could just imagine how I must have looked to my neighbours, throwing my hands in the air with anger and looking up at the sky. I told myself to get a grip but it had been too long a day for me, and so damn unusual. As I got out of the shower, I realized I was ravenous. I had eaten little during my busy day and now regretted it. Hunting through the fridge, I found nothing to eat. Suddenly, the the doorbell rang and I smiled. I knew instantly who it was: my kind landlady and a friend, Anne-Marie, who occasionally cooked for me too.

  “Come on in,” I called out from the kitchen. The door was not locked.

  “So you’re already home?” asked Anne-Marie.

  “Yes, I am. It was a long day,” I answered as I greeted her. She was forty years old, a mother of three boys, but she was more glamorous than I ever could be. She was married to a financial advisor with some big clients and that meant she didn’t need to work, so she took care of me, as well as taking care of her boys. She was wearing a pair of oven mitts and was holding a steaming vegetable casserole.

  “And how was it?” she asked, standing beside me in the kitchen, putting the pan on the stove. She’d been my landlady for a long time now and during the time, we became friends. Still, I couldn’t tell her everything.

  “The same. How was yours?”

  She took another plate out of the cabinet and moved the food from her plate to mine. I didn’t question this anymore. A long time ago, I asked her why she put her plate on my plate. She always said that the plate she brought with her was too hot for me to touch. It didn’t make any sense but I took it as one of her ‘French’ things.

  She realised quickly I wasn’t going to tell her anything. I hoped my appearance and attitude hadn’t given too much away, otherwise she’d know something was wrong.

  “Right,” she said. “Mine was the same.” She checked around the kitchen and then headed to the door.

  “Don’t clean afterwards. Leave me something to do in the morning.”

  I smiled.

  “Anne-Marie, you know I’ll clean the dishes.” She turned around.

  “Yes I know, but I needed to say it anyway. Will you come out on the porch later?”

  I shook my head. “I have some work to do,” I said. She nodded.

  “Eat, otherwise it will get too cold and it won’t be tasty,” she lectured me.

  “Oui, Madame,” I said and we both smiled.

  When I had finished my dinner and cleaned up, I poured myself a glass of wine and went to the sitting room, turning the television on. Searching through the channels, I finally spotted the live report from Monte Carlo. No wonder. The big party was just beginning and the last of the guests were arriving at the gates of the hotel. Shining lights and masses of reporters were waiting for the famous faces. Everyone who was anyone was there; all were dressed in their finest, as was the female news reporter.

  A silver Mercedes stopped at the front steps. For a moment, my heart stopped beating. I wasn’t completely sure, but remembering what he was driving when our cars had almost crashed, it would be the only sensible conclusion that this must be Lorcan Shore.

  I heard the reporter saying his name. The car doors opened and the porter came forward, waiting to take the car to the garage. Then suddenly the doors slammed shut and the car drove off at full speed. The reporter was speechless at first, but soon regained her composure, and quickly introduced a short clip of Lorcan’s last interview in the paddock.

  I tried to follow the words, but all I could focus on was his face. His hair was messy as before; his eyes as grey as the race suit he was wearing. I hadn’t noticed that an hour ago. He had his race suit open and dropped backwards, revealing his wide shoulders and narrow waist. My goodness, was he an attractive man!

  I quickly dismissed those thoughts, reasoning I’d had some wine and wasn’t thinking straight. I looked at the empty glass in front of me and resolved not to have any more. I turned the television off and went to the one room in the house
that only I was permitted to enter.

  Clearing my mind and my nose, I entered my special room. When the door closed on me, my mind was free of everything, but the idea for a new perfume.

  The next morning came too quickly. I knew Monaco would be crowded, so I left the house earlier than usual. Nevertheless, Anne-Marie was already up and walking her dogs. I waved good-bye, got into the car and slowly drove away, down an almost empty road.

  I chose my usual road to the Principality and it was already full. I knew what that meant; I would be very lucky if I found a parking space at the railway station. The sun was shining and we were promised another beautiful day.

  Getting to the railway station parking lot, it took me some time to find an empty space. Closing the roof, I got out and headed towards the hotel with my big bag, in which I also had my afternoon clothes.

  Switching my espadrilles for the high heels was not reasonable but necessary—the heels set off my yellow work dress beautifully.

  At the hotel, there was nothing to give away the fact that there had been a party the day before. Monsieur Pinot was already standing in his usual place, smiling at me.

  “Bonjour, Monsieur Pinot,” I greeted him.

  “Good morning, Miss,” he answered. “Not a minute late. Not even this morning!”

  I stopped beside him. I looked around and quickly stretched my legs. They’d started to hurt me already. Walking in high heels was not something I did on a daily basis.

  “No. Not even this morning. We’re closing earlier today,” I said. He nodded.

  “You’re wise. I just don’t understand all those people that come here every year to see this. The noise is dreadful. The crowd is impossible. I can’t think why anyone would want to be around for that. If I could I would stay home today, but.”

  “I want to,” I blurted out, completely interrupting him. He gave me a strange look.

  “Really, Miss …?”

  “Please, I’m plain Desiree,” I almost pleaded with him. He gave me a serious look and then finally nodded.

  “Right, Desiree.” I couldn’t believe it. For almost four years we had played that game. He offered me his hand and I shook it firmly.

  “Did you finally decide to wear contact lenses?” I looked at him in surprise. What kind of question was that?

  “No,” I said slowly and then saw my reflection in the window behind Marcel. I’d forgotten my glasses.

  “I had my sunglasses before,” I lied. I immediately started searching my handbag until I finally found what I was looking for. Putting them on my nose, I sighed with relief.

  “Great. Now I must go. It’ll be nine o’clock soon. I must open.”

  “You’re still the first one to arrive,” he called after me.

  Saying hello to the other hotel staff in the lobby, I unlocked the perfumery and walked in.

  The fresh smell in the boutique was the thing I adored most. It was not yet filled with different fragrances, mostly thick, sweet smells. I was not fond of them, but ladies loved them and by the end of the day, my nose was dead. And because of that, I didn’t want an apartment in Monaco. I needed my daily drive back to the suburbs of Nice, to clear my nose, if I wanted to work.

  I made a quick visual check through the room and, content that everything was the same as we’d left it the previous day, I headed to the back office. But before I reached it, I heard the door open.

  “So you made it?” I said over my shoulder.

  A voice spoke but it was not the one I was expecting. Nevertheless, it sounded familiar.

  “Good morning.” The voice was deep, manly … and I’d heard it the day before. I almost dropped everything on the floor.

  How the hell had he managed to find me?

  I knew I needed to get a grip, and fast! Although my legs were shaking, I turned around slowly and put both bags gently on the floor behind the counter.

  Only then I did manage to look at him. His grey eyes, those that I had dreamt of half the night, were on me. He narrowed them a little, as if he was trying to figure something out.

  I pushed my glasses back on my nose and I was me again.

  “How can I help you?”

  He looked dazed, almost as though he wasn’t really there. Finally, he shook his head and said:

  “Anna?”

  I froze for a moment.

  “No, my name is Desiree Hart. How can I help you?” He shook his head still staring at me.

  “I’m looking for a perfume …. .” He fell silent. Although I didn’t want to leave the counter, it was necessary for the sale. I put my hands behind my back and took two steps closer.

  “Which one?” I asked politely. I tried to hide the thrill I was experiencing from another meeting with him, my voice trembling.

  He was staring at me and then I realised; he is not certain. I almost laughed out loud. My disguise was helpful in situations like this.

  “I don’t know its name,” he said, moving to the displays of the famous brand perfumes. I knew I needed to help him, although I would have rather run as far away from him as possible.

  Where are Lucille and Michelle?

  “Are you looking for something special?” I asked and was glad that my voice had stopped trembling. He was standing in front of me and I was checking out his body; his wide shoulders, narrow waist, perfect butt and what I was sure were muscular legs.

  “Absolutely,” he said, turning round unexpectedly. In an instant I became hot and my cheeks burned. Without checking the mirror, I knew I was as red as a lobster. At the age of twenty-five, I still blushed like a teenager. I dropped my head and adjusted my glasses. I needed those moments to hide the blushing. Before I managed to say anything, the perfumery door opened again. I sighed with relief. Michelle and Lucille had arrived at last.

  “You won’t believe,” Michelle said loudly; “what kind of beast is outside on the track. I was sure it was the safety car but then we realised that it’s empty. God knows who …?” Suddenly she stopped talking. She’d spotted him. Their mouths dropped open.

  I looked at him and he smiled at me, shrugging his shoulders.

  “Oh my God!” said Lucille. “It’s Lorcan Shore!”

  I was even more embarrassed than before, when he had almost caught me checking him from behind. As he was looking at them, I tried desperately to gesture at the girls, to let them know that they should have more professionally. He just smiled at them. It was time for me to do something.

  “Which one of you is free to help Sir?” I asked, breaking the silence. All three looked at me as if I belonged to some kind of strange species.

  “I need to apologize, Sir, but I have other work to do.” Before anyone could say anything more, I was already in the back office. Closing the door, I leaned against it and sighed. I felt safer there.

  I sat behind the desk and leaned my head on my hands. I needed some time to collect myself before I could start working. This new encounter with Lorcan Shore had rocked my world again. Two earthquakes in less than a day; it was too much, even for me.

  I switched on the computer screen, but instead of working, I was watching Lorcan and the girls through the security camera. Realising what I was doing, I almost smacked myself.

  A sound from the computer speakers let me know I wasn’t quite alone. Checking the screen, I saw that Dame was now logged into Skype. That was all I needed! I ignored the pop-up window and turned around to collect the bags I had thrown on the floor.

  Suddenly the door opened. Turning around, I saw both girls standing there.

  “What?” I said. Michelle and Lucille exchanged looks and then, as though they’d agreed outside which one would start the conversation with me, Lucille said:

  “I can’t believe you!”

  “What?” I repeated.

  “Are you really so cold or is this just an act?” I knew what she was talking about, and I didn’t want to have a conversation about Lorcan Shore.

  “What are you talking about?” They exchanged loo
ks again. They came closer and sat down.

  “That was Lorcan Shore.” stated Michelle. “Didn’t you recognise him?”

  “Didn’t we talk about me watching F1 yesterday, for a long time? Of course I recognised him. And?”

  “What do you mean by ‘and’?’ He’s the…” Lucille threw her hands in the air. I stopped her, before she managed to continue. We all heard the door.

  “Customers,” I said quietly.

  “But…” Michelle didn’t want to back down.

  “Customers are customers,” I finished the conversation. They sighed again and left the office. I allowed myself a little smile of victory.

  The morning passed. As the Formula 1 free practice was not the only thing happening that day, the hotel was busy and the doors were constantly opening and closing.

  At around ten, I managed to slip out of the perfumery unnoticed. Lucille and Michelle were with customers and I ran outside to watch a few cars driving by. It was a thrill and I loved the roaring sound of the cars. It was something special.

  There were many spectators watching the practice, and Marcel stood there like a statue. I wondered how he could do this and wanted to ask him, when I spotted his earplugs. He smiled and said loudly:

  “Couldn’t be here if I didn’t have them.”

  I understood. The noise was loud and although this was the slowest race of the season, the sound of the motors was still unbearable for most people. Yet I loved it.

  “You’re not wearing them?” he asked. I shook my head.

  “Doesn’t it bother you?” he asked as another racing car passed by. Again I shook my head. He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Well, you’re young!”

  I smiled and went back inside.

  As the boutique was empty, I sent both Michelle and Lucille home. It was not necessary for all of us to be working. They didn’t question my decision and, before I could change my mind, they were out of the boutique almost faster than the race cars.

  “Do you need us tomorrow?” Lucille asked.

  “If you don’t have anything to do, you can come in. It looks like we won’t be busy so, if you decide to take the day off, that’s fine. I won’t tell Dame, so you’ll be paid anyway.”