People are everywhere, crowding the small waiting space at the front of the restaurant, every table seemingly full, even the bar is mobbed. I stand as close to Alex as possible, trying to make myself small in the growing crowd, yet also watching out for my new bag because hello, it’s Chanel. He slips his arm around my waist, pulling me in even closer, and my entire body erupts into tingles at making contact with him.
“I don’t think they’re here yet,” he says, lifting his head so he can see above the crowd. And he really can see above the crowd, he’s that tall. I am definitely not, so he towers over me. Even with my heels on, next to him I still feel like a shrimp.
Ugh, I am being such a damsel in distress right now. Is it wrong that I kind of like it?
Probably.
“Shall we ask the host?” I nod toward the important looking older gentleman heading our way, but before we can say a word, I hear Alex’s name called over the din.
We both turn to find the Descheauxs have just entered the restaurant, Alain raising his hand at us in greeting. The host spots Alain and nods in approval, telling me that the Descheauxs must eat here a lot.
Or they’re just that well known around Paris.
The slender woman by Alain’s side is striking. Her hair is cut into a silver chic bob, her eyes heavily lined, her mascara thick but not in a bad way. She’s wearing a silver sequined wrap over a black dress, and I can’t spot any jewelry besides the simple gold band on her left ring finger.
“Alex, Caroline. Let me introduce you to my wife, Sabine,” Alain says.
“Hello.” I reach out to shake her powdery soft hand.
Sabine smiles. “A pleasure to meet you,” she says before she shakes Alex’s hand as well. “I’ve heard so much about the both of you. Alain was very excited for me to meet you this evening.”
Her English is good. I can barely detect a French accent.
“Louis and his wife should be here soon. They’re running late.” Alain actually rolls his eyes. “Manon is always late. She enjoys making a grand entrance.”
Nerves make my knees wobbly. For some reason, I’m terrified to meet this woman, and I don’t know why.
The host leads us to our table, which is tucked away in the corner next to the giant window facing the front of the restaurant. It’s a little quieter here, and it’s also very dark. I’m thankful I don’t have to wear glasses because I wouldn’t be able to see the menu for crap.
We’re making small talk, the server has approached our table and is asking what we want to drink when there’s a commotion by the entrance. And then—I swear to God—camera flashes go off, like the paparazzi is here. I’m twisted in my seat, waiting for the appearance, knowing full well who’s just entered the restaurant.
Alain isn’t fazed whatsoever. He orders a bottle of wine for the table, plus a bottle each of still and sparkling water, and the server scurries away just as Louis and Manon come into full view.
He’s dressed all in black and so is Manon—I sense a theme here—with the exception of the Chanel pink and white tweed jacket she’s wearing perched over her shoulders. She strides toward our table with her head held high and her gaze fixed above everyone, her white blonde hair looking as if she put her finger into a light socket and got an electrical charge, giving her an amplified sort of wave. There’s a rhinestone belt slung low across her waist, and it spells out C-H-A-N-E-L in big glittery letters.
“Bon soir,” she says, her voice high, her bright pink lips stretched into a smug smile. “So sorry we’re late.”
She doesn’t sound the least bit sorry.
Louis stops just beside her, his expression bored, as usual. “Hello,” he says, though he’s looking at none of us. He pulls out a chair on the other side of Alex and Manon sits down. Louis sits on the other side of her.
I’m seated next to Sabine, who’s very polite, and very quiet. We all scan our menus, my food choice made quickly. A movie I’ve watched before filmed here, and the main character mentioned their roast chicken as being the best in the world, so I have to try it.
Once the server takes our order, Alain and Alex start talking business, and I start to tune out. Louis and Manon appear as if they are quietly arguing in French, their harsh murmurs downright fierce. I glance over at Sabine, who is buttering a piece of bread. Rather elegantly, I might add, which sounds impossible, but I’m serious.
Discreetly as possible, I grab my bag and peek inside so I can check my phone. I have a bunch of Instagram direct messages from my friends, who are all exclaiming over my Chanel riches. Smiling, I quickly respond to each message, grateful my friends can give me shit yet be happy for me, all at the same time.
“How long have you and Alex known each other?” Sabine asks me once I’ve put my phone away.
“Oh.” I exhale loudly, probably looking like an idiot, but I’m momentarily scrambling for the answer we came up with. “We’ve been together only a few months. But we knew each other when we were younger.”
“Really?” She raises her thin eyebrows. “Were you friends in school?”
“He’s a couple of years older than me, and he was my brother’s best friend when they were thirteen, fourteen.” I hesitate for a moment, then decide to go for it. “May I tell you a secret?”
Sabine leans in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Please do.”
“Alex was actually my first kiss,” I confess. “And I was his.”
“Oh, that’s so romantic.” Sabine rests her hand against her chest. “Were you a little couple? Boyfriend and girlfriend?”
I like how she calls us a ‘little couple’. So quaint. “No, unfortunately not. We only kissed once, and then…I never saw him again.”
“That’s so terrible!” Again with the hand on her chest. I’m digging her dramatic flair. “What happened?”
“He switched schools and we never talked—or kissed—again,” I say with a little shrug. It doesn’t feel so bad, telling her this. Because it’s true. The dating for the last few months and now we’re engaged part? That’s harder.
Because it’s a lie.
“And now after all these years, you’ve reconnected. That’s so lovely.” She smiles, her gaze going to Alex. “He’s quite handsome.”
I glance over at him as well. He’s still chatting with Alain. “He is,” I agree.
“You are a beautiful couple. You will make pretty children,” she continues.
My cheeks go warm and Sabine laughs. I’m sure my expression is pure mortification. We haven’t kissed since we were kids, and now she’s talking about us having babies. Of course, we’re supposed to be trying to make babies on a daily basis. Considering we’re in Paris, one of the most romantic cities in the world, we should be on a baby making mission.
Well, not literal baby making. More like baby making practice.
Hmm, in my dreams.
“I embarrassed you,” Sabine says, her voice as gentle as her smile. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to.”
“No, it’s fine.” I wave a hand. She’s being sincere, and I appreciate that. “I embarrass easy.”
“I’m sure your Alex enjoys that.” Sabine waggles her brows, making me laugh in surprise. Without thought I reach out, resting my hand on Alex’s rock hard thigh, like I have every right to do that.
Tonight, I suppose I do.
He practically jumps when I touch him, and I’m sure I startled him. We may be playing at being a couple, but the need for us to be overly demonstrative hasn’t arose yet.
May as well kick it into high gear tonight.
His stormy blue eyes meet mine, and as casually as possible, he reaches down, grabbing my hand so he can bring it to his mouth and press a gently lingering kiss on my knuckles.
My entire body goes hot, and I feel that simple kiss all the way to my toes.
We stare at each other and I huff out a shaky breath when he slowly settles our still linked hands on his thigh. Alain asks Sabine a question, and all four of them start talking in French, whi
ch allows Alex and I a little privacy.
“What was that for?” he asks, his voice low.
I slide my fingers against his, marveling at how large his hand is. “Sabine and I were talking about you.”
He raises one brow, that super sexy power move he’s got that I’m all about. “All good things, I hope.”
“Oh definitely.” I nod, unable to contain the smile that stretches across my face. “I think she might have a little crush on you.”
“Really?” He seems pleased with this information. “You two seem to be hitting it off then.”
“She’s very nice.” I slide my fingers out of his grasp, rubbing my hand across the top of his. I like being able to freely touch him. No one is paying attention to us. I can pretend that Tiffany never existed, that they never walked into Noteworthy, and Alex is really all mine. Just for tonight, I can do that.
For this entire trip, I can claim Alex Wilder as mine.
Alex shifts even closer to me, the delicious scent of his cologne making my head spin, and in a deliciously possessive move, he rests his arm on the back of my chair, his fingers trailing along the outside of my arm for the briefest moment, goosebumps rising where he touches me. “I think I’ve convinced Alain that he should go with Wilder Corporation after all,” he whispers into my ear.
Joy fills me, and it’s all for him. “Oh Alex. That’s wonderful.” I tilt my head back so I can smile up at him, and I can see it written all over his face. Relief. Happiness. Oh wait a minute, is that…lust in his eyes? Interesting. But I can’t focus on that right now. “What did you say to convince him?”
“Apparently everything he needed to hear. I couldn’t tell you exactly what I said that pushed him over the edge, but he just told me he’s ready to resume the deal and complete the paperwork.” He reaches out and touches my face, his fingers skimming down my cheek, and everything inside of me goes completely liquid. “Thank you for coming to Paris with me. It made a difference.”
My cheeks are on fire again. What is up with me being so easily embarrassed? Not that I’m embarrassed really. More like—this is a moment. A shift in the atmosphere. A shift in our relationship. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who made a difference. I really didn’t do anything.”
“You stood by my side, and that’s enough. I’m not sure how I can repay you.” He dips his head, his mouth hovering just above mine and I close my eyes, waiting in breathless anticipation for my repayment kiss when—
“Yoo hoo, little lovebirds!” Manon laughs, interrupting our moment.
Damn it.
I pull away from Alex and smile at her, but don’t say a word. I mean, how do you respond to someone calling you a lovebird? I’m not sure.
Plus, I’ve lost all ability to speak after that kiss we almost shared. I’d probably be a blubbering idiot if I tried to talk. So I remain quiet.
It’s safer that way.
“You two are so cozy.” Manon smirks, and I wonder if the pink lacquer coating her lips ever fades. Or maybe I missed seeing her reapply a few coats, I don’t know. “Such an adorable couple. I envy your passion.”
Our passion? Her words would normally be a compliment, but somehow they feel like an insult. I’m not quite sure what she’s trying to get at.
“I’m lucky she’s mine,” Alex says with all the confidence of a man who’s feeling mighty satisfied as he leans back in his chair, his arm still stretched across mine. He reaches up and rubs my shoulder and I smile at him, hating how that now he’s leaning back, I can see Manon even better.
And she can see me. I’d rather stay out of her sights, thank you very much.
“Yes, you are so lucky to have this brown haired beauty, Alex. Tell me, what do you think of Paris so far?” Manon asks, her question directed at me as she props her elbow on the table so she can rest her chin on her fist.
“It’s a beautiful city. I’m excited to see more of it,” I answer politely.
“Will you get a chance to tour around, or do you have to go back to the states right away?” She sits up straight, resting both of her arms on the edge of the table. I glance over at Sabine, who’s watching her with thinly veiled disgust written all over her expressive face. Is it the arms on the table that’s bugging her? Does Sabine consider that rude? I’m so glad my hands are currently in my lap.
“I’m hoping to see more of it.” I look over at Alex and he nods, as if he’s agreeing that we will definitely see more of it.
“Perhaps we can get together before you head back to California. Just the two of us.” Manon smiles, and I swear she looks like the cat that just swallowed the canary. There is something to be said about clichés, that’s for sure. “I’d love to take you shopping. Maybe we could also have lunch.”
“Oh, we already went shopping.” I smile. Laugh a little even and Alex squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. I wonder if he can tell how uncomfortable I am. I don’t want to go shopping with Manon. I probably couldn’t keep up. I was so overwhelmed earlier at Chanel, though I never felt out of place. “Alex took me to Chanel this afternoon.”
“I can see that.” Manon tips her head in my direction, her gaze zeroed in on my chest, specifically the new necklace I’m wearing. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. Alex picked it out for me. And he surprised me with the matching ring.” I reach up and play with the necklace with my right hand, showing off the ring as well, and the pointed look Manon sends me is almost impossible to decipher.
“Absolutely stunning.” Her voice is cool. As if she’s not impressed. “And the earrings?”
I’m shocked she noticed. “Yes, he surprised me with those as well. He completely spoiled me.”
“Indeed he did.” She sits up straighter. “Alain, I assume you’re meeting with Alex in the morning.”
Alain nods. “Indeed I am. Louis will also be joining us.”
The look on Louis’s face tells me he’s not thrilled with this idea.
“There’s no excuse then. We must get together.” Manon’s gaze meets mine. “We’ll meet in the morning. Say around ten? I’ll pick you up and we’ll go shopping. I know the perfect spot where we can go, and afterward we’ll have lunch.”
“Sounds great,” I say, my voice weak, glancing over at Alex. He offers me a sympathetic face, and I wonder if he would help me come up with a reason why I can’t make it to our shopping date tomorrow.
Probably not.
Chapter 29
I’ve discovered that one of the bonuses of having a lot of money is you can hire a private car to be at your beck and call whenever you need it. You don’t have to worry about getting a taxi or waiting for a ride. This is one of my favorite parts of the trip. Not only does the Wilder family have a private jet to use whenever needed, they also have no problem throwing money at private drivers who are always waiting for us when we exit the hotel, the restaurant, wherever we’re at.
I’m loving it.
We’re in the back of the sleek black Mercedes at this very moment, on our way to the hotel. The leather seats are as plush and soft as a cloud and I close my eyes for a moment, enjoying the soothing rumble of the car’s motor as we ride through the city streets. I’m so tired I bet I could fall asleep.
What’s keeping me awake is the awareness simmering between Alex and I. It’s been growing between us since the missed kiss from earlier, and it’s only ramped up now that we’re in the backseat of a car together. Alone.
Did I mention he’s holding my hand? Oh, he is. He grabbed it right after we climbed into the car, offering me a faint smile when I looked at him in confusion. He doesn’t have to be holding my hand either, because there’s no one around to see us. It’s just him and me and the driver who hasn’t uttered a single word to us since we’ve arrived besides greeting us with bonjour and sending us off with au revoir.
“Are you worried about shopping with Manon tomorrow?” Alex asks. He lets go of my hand so he can check his phone, as per usual, but at least he’s talking to me, so I won
’t give him any grief about it.
He’s beyond attached to his phone, which I figure is a symptom of being a workaholic. I remember Tiffany had a problem with it, and I was disgusted by his lack of caring at the appointment I had with the both of them.
I’m guessing Alex needs a work detox here eventually.
“A little,” I admit. “I kind of feel like she’s…”
“Judging you?” he finishes for me.
“Yes, exactly.” We smile at each other, and I like that we’re both on the same wavelength. “She makes me vaguely uncomfortable.”
Understatement.
“I can see why,” he says. “Manon Descheaux wants to be the center of attention. All eyes on her and no one else. I don’t think she likes having competition.”
“What do you mean? Are you talking about me?” I’m incredulous.
He sends me a pointed look, but otherwise doesn’t say anything.
I scoff. Like, literally scoff. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m the farthest thing from competition for Manon.”
Now it’s his turn to scoff. “Trust me, she views you as competition. You’re younger than her. Sabine seems to like you, and I don’t think she likes her daughter-in-law very much. You’re also extraordinarily beautiful.”
“Alex.” I’m blushing because that’s what I do whenever someone pays me a compliment or focuses too much on me. My face is warm and I dip my head, not wanting him to see. “You’re exaggerating.”
“No, I’m really not. I think you’re gorgeous. Smart. Capable. You held your own at dinner tonight, Caroline. You were impressive,” he says.
“You thought I’d be an epic fail?” I tease, just to needle him.
“Not at all. I just—wasn’t sure how Manon would treat you. I’ve heard she can be brutal to other women. She prefers to surround herself with men when she’s seen in public, or she’s a lone wolf,” Alex explains. “It’s why she wants to be every designer’s muse. They lavish a bunch of attention on her and she eats it up.”
“How do you know so much about her?” I’m curious.
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