Paris by Heart

by Nora James

  “Why don’t you have a look at the sweets over there?” he asked Christine. “There might be one you want to take home.” He placed his daughter on the ground and she ran over to the display of sweets near the counter.

  With his little angel out of earshot he let Nicole have it. “It’s too late for us, Nicole no matter what you do. You must understand that. I begged you for years and you wouldn’t go. Even if you did now, even if you beat this Devil in you, and I hope you do, the thing is, I don’t love you anymore and I never will. I wish you all the best, but we are not getting back together. After everything you’ve done to Christine and me, you could be the last woman in the world, I wouldn’t want you.”

  Christine came running back and he picked her up again. “Anything good over there, Princess?”

  The child nodded and smiled at him. Still carrying her, he walked away with assurance, half expecting Nicole to follow and continue pleading, finding reasons why he needed her, threatening him with a law suit, or worse, saying she’d kidnap her daughter and drag her to the other side of the world. But for once Nicole let him go. Had it finally sunk in? Or had she looked deep inside her and found the compassion she once had?

  He bought the pink marshmallow cake Christine pointed to. When he finished his purchase he turned around to see if he could read the expression on Nicole’s face and he understood what had stopped her from pursuing the issue: she was busy making eyes at a younger man, a backpacker with dreadlocks who’d slowed to read Jojo’s menu.

  “Please let him take her off my hands,” Paul whispered under his breath.

  “Am I heavy?” Christine asked.

  He shook his head, kissing his little angel all over her face. “No, sweetheart, it’s fine. I wasn’t talking about you. But if you want to walk I’ll put you down.”

  Christine did, so he placed her feet on the ground and she linked her fingers with his. If only he were holding onto Elise with his other hand, he’d be the happiest man alive. It didn’t look like that would be happening any time soon. She probably wouldn’t give him a chance to explain. In fact, she might never speak to him again. She’d seemed so hurt when she’d rushed out of the restaurant. He’d told her it wasn’t what it looked like, that he was no longer with Nicole, but she’d totally ignored him. It was as if she couldn’t even hear his words.

  It must have been an incredible shock to Elise. He hadn’t even mentioned to her that he had a daughter, not yet. He had every intention of telling her. He’d just been waiting for the right moment. He’d expected it would be when they had dinner together that Friday—if she’d accepted. Now he didn’t know if he’d even get a chance to ask her out. He should have told her sooner about Christine. About Nicole, too. He was an idiot.

  Now Elise probably believed he was still with Nicole, even though he’d denied it. He cast his mind back to what he was doing just before he turned around to find Elise staring at him from the other end of the restaurant. He remembered picking up his daughter, and then that’s right, Nicole ran her arm up his torso. Bloody Nicole! She’d been bothering him all night. He’d pulled away, but Elise mightn’t have noticed that. And then there was the kiss.

  He was quite certain Elise had seen him push Nicole away then but she might have thought he was doing it because Elise was there. What a mess this whole thing was and oh, how his heart ached! He felt like curling up in a ball in a dark place, hidden from the world, and sobbing until he drowned in his own tears. He couldn’t, of course. He had a child to look after, and he was a man and everyone knew men didn’t cry, so he ignored the lump in his throat and concentrated on his beautiful child.

  “Is Nicole going with that man with the long hair, Daddy?” asked Christine as they walked up la rue Mouffetard. “She didn’t say goodbye.”

  He thought about correcting his daughter and reminding her, as he always did, to call Nicole “maman”, but he decided to let it go. After all, Nicole didn’t deserve such a sweet child.

  “I don’t know.” He squeezed Christine’s tiny hand. “It doesn’t matter, we’re going home. It’s way past your bedtime. And Mamie Monique might be waiting for us, even though we told her to go home. You never know.”

  And once Christine was in bed Monique might agree to stay with his precious child so Paul could go and find Elise, explain everything to her and beg for a second chance.

  ******

  Elise lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, her mind blank now after the talk she’d had with Dominique. Her friend had offered to come over, but Elise wanted to be alone. There was nothing anyone could say or do to make her feel better. Her heart had been torn to pieces and it couldn’t be mended instantly with a few words of support, even though she truly appreciated her friend’s good intentions. No, all Elise could do now was hope to move on and eventually forget all about Paul. It would take time—there was no doubt about that—she’d gone through the pain of betrayal before.

  How should she behave in the meantime? She might be able to ignore Paul when passing through the Café des Amoureux. She’d look the other way and with patrons and staff around she was sure she’d manage to hide how she really felt. But what about the English lessons? How would she handle being so close to him then with no one else around to keep in check the sizzling attraction between them? She scoffed at the thought. There’d be no more attraction from now on, at least not on her side, she’d make sure of that. In fact she’d like to be repulsed by him. Yes, that was it. That was exactly what he deserved for being a cheat and a liar. Shame you couldn’t place an order for appropriate feelings.

  Her mobile rang and she checked the caller’s identity. It was a number in Australia, one she didn’t recognise. She wondered if it was about her house, or someone who didn’t know she was abroad. Had she forgotten to tell any of her friends? She didn’t think so.

  “Hello?”

  The voice that came through the speaker was that last one she needed to hear that evening. “Hey, baby! How’s it going in France with all those arrogant French people?”

  “I told you to leave me alone, Steve. If I’d known it was you I wouldn’t have answered.”

  “Bloody charming you are. Thanks a lot. I love you, too.”

  “Where are you calling from? You have a different number?” It was another one she’d remember not to answer now.

  “Uh, yeah, it’s kinda complicated. Anyway, there’s something really important I need to talk to you about.”

  “Hurry up, then. I have a lot on my plate.”

  Suddenly there was a loud knock at the door. Elise frowned, wondering who it might be. It couldn’t be Paul. He was with the other woman and that little girl. He wouldn’t leave them to come over here, he’d be too busy telling some convoluted story to keep his companion—probably his wife—by his side. It had to be Dominique who hadn’t taken no for an answer when she’d asked to come over. No, that couldn’t be, she didn’t have the key to get into the entrance after hours.

  The person knocked again, even louder this time.

  “Forget the door, just talk to me baby”, pleaded Steve impatiently. “Tell them to go away.”

  It annoyed her that her ex-husband would call her baby and try to boss her around, so she flung open the door without thinking anymore about it. Paul stood before her with the sorry eyes of a broken-hearted teenager. He turned his open palms towards her and she noticed the slight trembling of his hands.

  “Elise, I’m so sorry about what happened. Nicole’s my ex-wife. I’m not married anymore. I should have told you but—”

  Elise raised her index finger so he’d give her a minute, and talked to Steve who was still on the line. “I have to go, Steve.”

  “I love you!” Steve screamed so loud Elise was sure Paul heard him. “I deserve another chance.”

  “Is that the important thing?” Surely there was more, but it turned out there wasn’t.

  She shook her head in dismay and hung up. She’d given Steve plenty of chances during and after their marr
iage, but he’d never changed. Now that he’d been dumped again he expected Elise to take him back. What was wrong with the male species? It wasn’t that men were from Mars and women from Venus, it was more the case that men were from a different universe altogether. Were they even living, breathing beings with a brain and a heart? She thought not.

  Paul crossed his arms. “Who’s Steve?”

  She gave him her most dismissive look. “I don’t have to explain anything to you. You’ve obviously been having a good time with your ex-wife, if she really is your ex, that is.”

  His face creased in so many places and he seemed so genuinely upset that Elise let out a cynical chuckle. “You should consider acting, you know that?”

  “It’s not like that, Elise, truly.” He came closer to her and she stepped away.

  “I saw it with my own eyes, Paul. She was all over you. I saw her hand go up and down your chest. I saw her kiss you on the lips. Don’t treat me like more of a fool than I already feel. I trusted you. I actually trusted you and I’d sworn I’d never trust a man again. I believed in you.”

  “Nicole’s pushy. She keeps trying to get her own way. She won’t take no for an answer. She has no shame and—”

  Elise stopped him, covering her ears with her hands. She didn’t need to know how the woman with the raucous laugh had talked him into getting into her pants. In fact, she had an inkling he hadn’t taken that much persuading. Besides, the whole story might be a lie. She wouldn’t be surprised if she found out tomorrow from Yvonne or Pépette that he was still married.

  “You should leave,” she said.

  Paul made no effort to make his way out, as if her request hadn’t registered at all. Or was he being stubborn, the way Steve had been, always wanting to get his own way?

  “Leave now,” she repeated firmly.

  He bowed his head and she thought she saw his bottom lip quiver. Was he so upset that he couldn’t move? No, it must have been her imagination. Paul didn’t care that much about her. He couldn’t, could he? He was with another woman.

  “I never meant to hurt you. You’re the last person on Earth I’d want to hurt. You and my daughter Christine.”

  So the child wasn’t just the woman’s from another relationship. What had he called that tart again? Nicole. The child was Paul’s, Paul and Nicole’s. Elise sat on the bed and rubbed her face as she took it all in. Paul had a daughter with that woman.

  He sighed, a long, heavy breath and under any other circumstances she would have put her arms around him and kissed him better. Even now, if she let herself go, if she looked into those dark, pleading eyes, she could give in. Instead, she steeled herself. No man would walk all over her again no matter how charming or gorgeous he was, no matter how smart and funny, no matter how kind and caring, or how he made her dream.

  “I’m not with Nicole. You have to trust me.”

  He reached out and caressed her cheek and for a fleeting instant she let him. She wanted to believe him. She longed to feel his hands cupped around her face once more, wanted to lose herself in his kiss, but then she thought of how Nicole’s lips had been on his that very same evening, how her hands had tugged at his shirt. She had to trust her eyes. They certainly looked like a couple. Elise pulled away.

  She sat on the bed and held her pounding head. This was harder than she’d expected, harder than it should have been. Why? She and Paul hadn’t spent years together. She hadn’t even given herself to him. It should have been easy to send him off on his merry way. Could it be because he was the one? Her soul mate? She wanted to scream. How cruel was the universe? She wouldn’t take a liar for a soul mate. She refused to.

  “I can’t do this,” she whispered after a few moments. “Just go, please.” This time he obeyed, although she could feel his eyes burn through her as he pulled the door shut.

  At that moment her phone rang again. It was Steve, hounding her. She turned it off and decided not to answer his calls anymore. She needed peace.

  She curled up on the bed for a while, hoping to relax and stop the nervous shivering that had taken hold of her. It didn’t help—images of Paul still populated her mind no matter how hard she tried to think of something else. She remembered their first kiss and how elated she’d been once she’d found out he wasn’t with Julie. She thought of his magnetism and the incredible pull towards him she’d felt time and time again. She recalled how she had to resist her own instinct to make love to him there and then in the food pantry when she’d found herself alone in the semi-darkness with him.

  She remembered everything and she didn’t want to. What could she do to calm her nerves? She got off the bed and practised yoga poses: the sun salutation, downward facing dog, child pose and then Savasana. It was the latter, the corpse pose, that quietened her the most, emptying her mind of the thoughts that troubled her, of the images of Paul that clung to her memory. Concentrating on the poses and her breathing had worked. For now.

  She finished her routine and stood, much more relaxed, and although nearly immediately her thoughts turned to Paul she felt more in control. Like yoga, it might take a concerted effort to rid herself of her attraction, but she would do it and she would be all right. She would get over this. She was lucky she’d discovered what Paul was really like before their relationship had gone any further.

  And now she knew the truth she would steer clear of him.

  No matter how much her heart ached.

  Chapter 17

  Paul rubbed the knives and forks for the twentieth time with his tea towel before finally deciding to place the cutlery in the drawer. He had to find something else to do now while he waited for Elise. He’d go mad if he just sat there at the table like he had last week, his head in his hands, only to realise she wasn’t coming.

  She’d sent word with Yvonne that she couldn’t make the English lesson but Paul had prayed she’d change her mind and appear like an angel of forgiveness when he looked up. It hadn’t happened of course, and that was to be expected. After all, she had found him with Nicole.

  They must have seemed like a happy family to her, mummy, daddy and their cute little daughter dining out together on a Friday night. Mummy running her hand up and down daddy’s shirt. Mummy kissing daddy on the lips. Who could blame Elise? He’d avoid her too if he’d found her kissing another man. Or would he? He’d heard that Steve guy, whoever he was, telling her that he loved her over the phone, and still Paul was ready to listen to her, to give her a chance to explain herself.

  He looked for stale bread. He’d make breadcrumbs while he was waiting. You could always do with good breadcrumbs. That, or a bread based fruit pudding? He rubbed his chin. He had mince in the fridge and a lot of it as it was on special the last time he went to the market at Les Halles. Breadcrumbs to make his favourite boulettes de viande, the way his grandmother used to, the loveliest meat balls he’d ever tasted. She made them with egg and spring onion, wine and rosemary. He didn’t know it as a child; back then he figured she must have used magic.

  He decided against the food processor on account of the noise it would make. As he grated the bread by hand he listened for Elise but there was no sign of her arrival, no heels against the wooden stairs, no soft sigh as she swung open the kitchen door. In fact, there was no sign of her coming ever again.

  He’d watched for her day after day in the café but she must have managed to slip through it while he was in the kitchen, as quickly as she’d slipped through his fingers on the night she’d seen him with Nicole. He’d phoned her half a dozen times but she never answered. And every time he’d knocked on her door she’d been out—or had pretended to be.

  He threw the stale bread across the table, swearing under his breath. Maybe Elise had made arrangements with Julie not to teach anymore. He’d spoken to Julie on the phone a couple of times since, about the running of the café, and she hadn’t mentioned the English lessons. Perhaps Elise had agreed with Julie that she would tell Paul herself that the lessons were over, but hadn’t had the gu
ts. Or maybe she was worrying him, hurting him as much as she could to get her own back, purposely leaving him in the dark, waiting, hoping, hanging on while she enjoyed herself with that guy Steve who shouted that he loved her on the phone loud enough for Paul to hear, probably for the very purpose of making it clear to Paul that Elise was not free.

  Paul jumped to his feet and thrust his hands in his pockets. He couldn’t go on like this. As much as it pained him—and the pain was excruciating—he had to do his best to move on, if not for his own sake for those around him, and first and foremost for Christine.

  He’d been impossible to live with since he’d lost Elise and he knew it. He’d paid less attention to his daughter, hadn’t made the effort to play with her much. He’d been taciturn with Monique, too, and walked away when she was too chatty for him to handle. It wasn’t fair on Christine and Monique. He’d probably been a bit the same at work and it wasn’t fair on Yvonne, Pépette and Michel, either.

  He had to concentrate on the business now and act as if he’d never even seen Elise. Yes, throwing himself into work was the answer. It had to be, if the one woman in the world who made him want to start over wouldn’t have anything to do with him. He let out a sigh that turned into a whine as he grabbed his jacket. He only had himself to blame. He should have been firmer with Nicole, should have been ruthless with her years ago. Then again, how could he risk losing Christine? It was an impossible situation and he hated Nicole for creating it.

  He glanced at his watch. The Sorbonne library was still open. He’d go there tonight and borrow a few books. He was going to read up on marketing and growing a business. Since he couldn’t have love he’d have success.

  Yes, success was the best revenge. It couldn’t mend a broken heart, he wasn’t naive enough to think that it could, but it would take his mind off the pain and that was all he dared hope for right now.

  ******

  Elise bit her lip as she ran her finger over the phone number Yvonne had given her. She couldn’t go on like this, saying she was too ill to teach or making up some other excuse so that she didn’t have to face Paul. She’d paid Julie the full amount of rent due without deducting the cost of the lessons, but that wasn’t the point. Julie expected Elise to be teaching Paul English and if she wasn’t going to hold up her end of the bargain the least Elise could do was inform Julie so that she could find a replacement teacher for Paul.