by Olivia Lara
‘Nicole? She’s trouble, that’s who she is. I don’t like her around Vincent.’
‘That is Nicole? His ex-girlfriend Nicole?’
Margaux smiled. ‘It wasn’t serious, don’t worry. She wasn’t good for him.’
‘She’s beautiful,’ said Dominique.
‘Beautiful but troubled.’
‘I’m sure she’s not all that bad. Vincent dated her, after all.’
‘Everyone makes mistakes,’ said Margaux.
Suddenly, Dominique found herself wondering what would happen if things didn’t work out between her and Vincent. Especially after what had happened that night. Would Margaux tell the family and their friends the same thing? ‘Who? Dominique? A troubled woman. Just another mistake he made.’
‘I need to get some air,’ Dominique said to Margaux, trying to sound casual.
‘Of course, dear. You’re feeling alright, I hope. Don’t let Nicole bother you. She’s nothing but a distraction. You’re all he has eyes for. I raised a smart man.’
Dominique wasn’t as preoccupied with Vincent and Nicole as might’ve been expected because her mind was somewhere else. With someone else. Him. Who was he? Why did she feel they were there to meet each other? How was that even possible when Vincent was the man she’d dreamed of ever since she was a teenager? Her mother told her there could be only one. What was happening to her?
That man, whoever he was, in just a few minutes, seconds even, had made her feel things she didn’t know she was capable of feeling. Things she’d never felt for Vincent.
Dominique stood on the terrace, watching the snow fall on the perfectly trimmed trees, and a shiver went through her body. It wasn’t just the cold, no, it was more than that.
Suddenly she knew why she’d pulled her hands from his. Why she’d backed off when he came too close to her. Not because of Vincent. Not because of Margaux. Because she was afraid. Afraid of her own reactions. Of what she would do had he tried to hold her hand again. Had he tried to kiss her.
The truth was, before that evening, she’d thought what she had with Vincent was the best it was ever going to get. That the love she felt for him was everything her heart was capable of. But now, she questioned everything.
Yes, with Vincent, there were no butterflies in her stomach or weak knees. There was no longing. But there were other things. Important, big things. She had a future with Vincent and it looked secure, even perfect. Just like him.
Yet, that night, everything she thought she wanted didn’t seem to matter anymore, all because of that man. That man who could’ve been a random stranger off the street. She would’ve given it all up for a chance to look into his eyes, for a minute with him. For an embrace. A kiss.
ALEXANDER
9 DECEMBER 1963, 7 P.M.
PARIS
After taking over the Paris office in the spring, Alexander’s life became even busier. In the last nine months, he’d had enough of art charities to last him a lifetime. JJ took him everywhere. To auctions, negotiations, gallery openings, charities, even estate sales. They had traveled the world twice over and JJ had no intention of stopping or even slowing down. It kept Alexander away from Nicole, and neither of them liked it. They missed each other and tried to talk on the phone every few days. But she was lonely and was getting a bit tired of it all, despite being kept busy by her countless friends. He was tired too, of planes and hotels and always being on the move. But he was looking forward to the next trip, because it would be an extended one – two or three months – and it was New York and Nicole was coming with him.
When he received the invitation from Margaux Saint Germain, he wanted to decline. He had just gotten back from Milan and was exhausted. Besides, who was to say Vincent wouldn’t be there? Of all the people he was looking forward to seeing again, Vincent was probably at the very bottom of his list.
But JJ, who had his own agenda involving a Degas and a reclusive and stubborn owner, insisted. Alexander was to convince the man to consider selling it.
‘I wish I could go, but my meetings are probably going to run late in the evening, too late for me to make it in time. Please go and try to seal this deal.’
Nicole had insisted too.
‘We can’t miss it. Everyone will be there. It’ll be our last social in Paris before we leave.’
‘We’re only going away for three months. Not forever.’
‘Maybe, maybe not. So, are we going? Are we? Pleeeease,’ she’d said in a catlike voice.
And now the two of them were standing, hand in hand, in front of the castle.
She always looked amazing, but that night Nicole had taken it to the next level.
‘I’m going to have to guard you tonight,’ said Alexander jokingly. He wasn’t the jealous type, he’d realized since the two of them started dating. She turned heads wherever they went, and he felt proud, rather than anything else. Proud to be with such a beautiful woman.
‘You’d better,’ she teased him. ‘Who knows what might happen?’ She kissed him. ‘I love you. Now I have to go mingle, and you have to schmooze that collector guy.’
‘I love you too,’ he said.
The moment he entered Château Saint Germain, Alexander, with a restless certainty, knew something was about to happen. Something was about to change.
He tracked down the Degas art collector and was talking to him when he saw her. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t help himself.
Then she disappeared from view, and he thought that was the end of it.
In front of him, a large group were discussing the merits of charity and how if those artists couldn’t afford to make a living out of their paintings, they should get a day job like everyone else, and not beg for money. Alexander almost intervened, but the group dispersed before he got a chance to.
And when it did, behind them, he saw her. Again. And this time, he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. She was calling to him, like a siren, like a dream.
She was stunning, bewitching. A beautiful girl, but not in a forced, artificial way. She wasn’t trying too hard. She just was. With curly red hair down to her shoulders, she looked like a flower in a pale yellow dress that complemented her luminous green eyes. There was something about her, something that drew him in like magic.
Their eyes met, and a warm feeling came over him.
She was otherworldly. Standing in front of him, not looking down, not looking away. Just standing there and staring at him. Like she was there on purpose. Like she was there for him.
It was bizarre how in a way she reminded him of Zara, although there was no reason for that. He didn’t even know what Zara looked like. And it had been ten years. Why would he think of Zara now? She also made him think of that day in Newport. Of that girl with the sun hat. The girl whose life he’d saved and who’d saved his life in return. It was like this red-haired beauty, whose name he didn’t even know, was the embodiment of all the girls who made up his heart and soul.
Alexander didn’t hear what people were saying. He didn’t feel time passing.
All he wanted to do was look at her, hear her voice, hold her hand. Kiss her. Yes, kiss her. It was beyond him. He couldn’t control it.
He didn’t remember walking to her, or what he said or how they ended up holding hands. But he remembered what he felt. So vividly, so strongly. When he looked into her eyes, he felt happier than ever before. Surer than ever. All that after spending a few minutes with a woman he knew nothing about.
But then, she was pulled away, and it was a rude awakening from the dream. Letting go of her was painful, physically painful and the reality of it hit him. What was he doing? Nicole was somewhere in that room. It wasn’t right. Whatever he thought he felt wasn’t even possible. He didn’t know this woman. He couldn’t possibly have these feelings for her.
Alexander backed off and lost himself in the crowd.
He found Nicole surrounded by a large group of people – some that he recognized from their outings. She was, as always, the cen
ter of attention. He took her arm like he was looking for shelter from himself. Nicole wrapped her arms around his neck, but when she tried to kiss him, he turned his face and kissed her on the cheek.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
‘Nothing. I think I’m just tired.’
He hoped being by her side would help. That it would make him feel better and forget what had just happened. But it didn’t. With each passing minute, he felt more anxious and more uncomfortable. He didn’t care about the marriage of Princess Anna – whoever she was – nor the upcoming plays on Broadway, the latest gossip on Monsieur Creteil, the new yacht someone had bought or whatever else the people around him talked about.
‘Let’s just go,’ he said.
‘Can we stay a bit longer? I’m hoping they’ll bring something to eat. I’m starving.’
He forced a smile and mumbled to himself, ‘It’s a bad idea.’
A couple took Nicole aside, and Alexander walked away. He didn’t want to look for her, he just wanted to close his eyes, go outside, get into his car and leave. But he did look for her. She wasn’t anywhere. It was as if she had been a figment of his imagination. A dream.
He walked outside, wondering if he could stay there. Nicole was ready to leave, but with each passing moment, the strength that had got him outside and away from her faded away.
Was he making a mistake? Just like he had made a mistake leaving Zara in the museum, alone, that evening?
If he was making a mistake, there would be a sign, he thought.
He turned around, went back to the entrance and stood there waiting.
If you feel the same way, if you feel something, anything, if this is not a dream, come outside. Please, come outside, he said to himself more like a prayer than a thought.
On the balcony, just a few feet away from him, he heard a noise and then saw a silhouette.
For a moment he couldn’t believe it was really happening. Slowly, almost afraid, he walked towards the terrace.
She was standing with her arms on the railing, looking out in the courtyard. As if she was searching for something. Could it be that she was looking for him?
DOMINIQUE
9 DECEMBER 1963, 7 P.M.
PARIS
Dominique heard a noise and turned around. He was standing there, looking at her, and it should probably have surprised her, but it didn’t. She held his gaze. Purposefully. There was something about this man that attracted Dominique like a sunflower turning toward the sun.
Two strangers staring at each other. Why did she feel he wasn’t a stranger? Why did she feel she knew him better than she knew herself?
Her hands trembled, and she hid them behind her back. I should say something, she thought when she noticed someone behind him, by the terrace door.
‘Alexander, there you are.’ The voice sounded familiar.
Alexander. His name was Alexander.
‘Dominique, it’s so nice to see you again,’ he said with a smile. ‘It’s been far too long.’
She smiled back. It was Jean Jacques D’Angers. ‘It’s nice to see you too.’
Dominique was surprised he remembered her.
‘Do you two know each other?’
Neither Dominique nor Alexander said a word.
‘She’s the girl I told you I met at the Marmottan,’ said Jean Jacques D’Angers.
‘Is she?’ said Alexander, holding her gaze.
Dominique couldn’t help comparing him to a painting she had seen at Musée d’Orsay. It changed, depending on the lighting in the museum and who stood in front of it. Different people saw different things in it. Beautiful things. Surreal things.
‘Monsieur Matthieu told me all about your work at the Marmottan,’ said Jean Jacques D’Angers to Dominique, then turning to Alexander. ‘She should show you what she did with the Cezanne from the blue room. Nobody thought it could be saved. Until she worked her magic.’
Dominique blushed. ‘You’re too kind, Monsieur D’Angers.’
‘Oh, please, call me JJ. Monsieur makes me feel old.’ He chuckled.
‘How serendipitous you two should meet. Maybe you can convince her to join us, Alexander. I tried once, but alas, unsuccessfully. She would make a fine art dealer. Fine, indeed.’
JJ looked at her. Then at him. ‘But let’s leave that for another time, shall we? It’s late and we have an early flight tomorrow morning. We should get going, get some sleep,’ he said, his mouth twisted in a slight grimace.
‘Of course,’ said Dominique, her face on fire.
‘Actually, JJ, I’d like to stay a bit longer,’ said Alexander, not taking his eyes from her.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. We’ll see you at the airport in the morning.’
‘Very well then. Have a lovely evening,’ he said, and went down the stairs to his car.
His words. His certitude. Her heart. Maybe it didn’t make any sense, and it was wrong, and against all the rules and the dreams and what her mother had said about there being only one for each of us. But she couldn’t help herself. She was drawn to him in a way she had never felt before. Or maybe she had once. A long time ago.
ALEXANDER
9 DECEMBER 1963, 8 P.M.
PARIS
‘You knew that painting wasn’t for sale,’ she said.
‘But everything else I said was true. I have never seen anything more beautiful in my life.’ He smiled. ‘Your name is Dominique?’ he said quietly.
She wasn’t Zara. He knew that now. But no matter what her name was, no matter who she was, she was bewitching. Intoxicating.
She nodded. ‘And you are Alexander,’ she said, almost echoing his thoughts.
He didn’t say anything. Didn’t know what to say.
They were both quiet for a minute. From time to time he would look at her and she would smile, almost embarrassed.
‘JJ talks a lot about you,’ he finally said. ‘He’s very impressed with your work.’
She played with her fingers. ‘He’s too nice.’
‘JJ is not generous with compliments. If he says you’re good, you must be the best.’
Her cheeks turned red. She was adorable when she blushed. There was a humility and a simplicity about her that was refreshing. ‘What got you into restoration? There’s not a lot of money in it.’
‘It’s not all about the money,’ she said, almost snappily.
‘Oh, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – I meant it in an admiring way. I wish I could do it too. Always been fascinated with restorations.’
‘What’s stopping you?’
He smiled.
‘So what do you do if you’re not doing restorations?’
‘I’m an art dealer for AngeD’Art.’
‘That’s nice,’ she said.
Did she think it was nice? He couldn’t tell.
‘You know JJ’s company is the biggest in Europe and the third in the world. An art dealer position would be well… what am I saying – extremely well compensated.’
‘I know.’
‘Yet you’re not interested. Why?’
‘Have you ever had a dream?’
He gazed into her eyes. If you only knew, he thought.
‘Is this your dream? This art charity?’
‘Part of it, yes.’
‘Then I won’t even try to convince you to join AngeD’Art. Dreams trump money.’
She smiled.
‘I admire you for not selling yourself, not selling out your dreams,’ he said. ‘And for sticking to your guns. I hope I get to do it one day too,’ he said.
‘What?’
‘Follow my heart. If I pursued art restoration, I wouldn’t be able to work for JJ as an art dealer anymore. You see, it’s complicated with him and the company. He has big plans for me, and I don’t want to disappoint, so my dream will have to wait for a while. But one day I will gather the courage to do what I dream, otherwise—’
‘You will regret it for the rest of your life.’
/> ‘I will regret it for the rest of my life.’
They both fell quiet again, looking into each other’s eyes.
DOMINIQUE
9 DECEMBER 1963, 9 P.M.
PARIS
She heard voices, and instinctively moved to the side and away from Alexander.
‘There you are,’ said Vincent. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you.’
Dominique gulped. His arrival was like a wake-up call.
‘Oh, sorry,’ she said feeling embarrassed. ‘Did something happen?’
She didn’t know what to say.
He took her hand and pulled her to him. ‘Yes. Something happened,’ he said with a serious face.
She stared.
‘I missed you.’
Dominique smiled but it probably looked more like a pained grimace. He leaned down to kiss her and she offered her cheek.
Vincent finally looked in Alexander’s direction.
‘How are you? Long time,’ he said to Alexander.
‘Vincent,’ replied Alexander, equally cold.
‘What’s all this? A happy gathering?’ she heard a woman’s voice. ‘What did I miss?’
It was Nicole. With a condescending smile, she made her way to Alexander and latched on to his arm. ‘I see everyone has met my wonderful future husband.’
Dominique held her breath. Nicole was now dating Alexander? Vincent’s ex-girlfriend Nicole? Could the night get any worse?
Alexander smiled awkwardly. ‘Well, we’re not there yet,’ he said, glancing at Dominique. Were they, or weren’t they? Maybe he was Nicole’s boyfriend, just like she was Vincent’s girlfriend. Just as bad. Engaged or not, the situation couldn’t be more awkward. She wanted the ground to crack open and eat her.
‘But we will be soon, love,’ she said, like it was a given. ‘I am starving and there’s nothing good here,’ whined Nicole in a childlike voice.
She turned to Dominique. ‘No offense but the catering is lacking.’
Dominique opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.
‘Why don’t we all go grab some dinner? It’s not too late. We’ll be back in Paris by ten and there are plenty of cafés still open. Café de Flore for instance,’ said Nicole.