home, a man like that, he needs a woman . . .”
“I’m sure he does.” Lily was suddenly serious. “But I urge you to ask yourself, do you need a man like Bennett?” And with that she stepped into the elevator and was gone.
Mary-Lou flounced back to the table where Bennett had already paid the check and was ready to leave. She’d expected them to linger over drinks and coffee, but he seemed in a hurry. He wants to get me into bed, she thought with that thrill in the pit of her stomach that she always got when she thought about sex with Bennett.
But no, Bennett dropped her off in front of her apartment with only the briefest kiss, and said he was tired and needed sleep.
“But we need to talk,” she said desperately.
“Not tonight. I’ll call you,” he said, and he got in the car and with a wave, drove off.
She watched his Hummer weave into the busy traffic along the Bund, feeling suddenly very much alone. And she had thought the evening had gone so well, first the discussion about the necklace and her proposal that they work together; then the meeting with Lily. Until Lily made that dumb remark about Bennett going to Paris and liking rich women. Even though the last part was true.
And then the next day, Bennett didn’t call. Nor the day after that. And when she tried to call him, there was no answer. A week went by and she had still not heard from him. Mary-Lou did not know what to think, or what to do. He was her only hope. And besides, she was in love with him.
TWELVE
PARIS
P RESHY was happy. Daria was visiting Paris with her professor husband, on business, and though Tom couldn’t make it, she was looking forward to seeing her friend alone for dinner. Sylvie could not make it either, because of course she had her restaurant to ran. She’d opened it two years before and with its emphasis on freshness it was an immediate hit.
They were meeting at seven at the Deux Magots just around the corner on the boulevard St. Germain, where they would have a drink and decide where to go for dinner. “Somewhere simple,” Daria had said. And Preshy knew just the place.
So it was on with the little black dress again, the heels, and the “rich girl” diamonds. Late, as always, she ran down the steps and into the street, where she noticed a man looking in her shop window.His back was toward her and quickly, before he could notice her, she checked the blue light signaling that the alarm was on, then dashed off across the street to meet Daria. She wasn’t about to open up the shop and discuss antiques with anyone tonight.
The Deux Magots was named for the two antique figurines of plump Chinese commercial agents—the
magots,
displayed inside, but mostly the customers liked to sit outdoors and indulge in the national sport of people watching. The cafe’s popular terrace swept from the busy boulevard into the cobbled square with its simple church, the oldest in Paris, the Èglise St. Germain-des-Prés.
As always the café was packed, but Daria had gotten there early and had snagged one of the tiny tables and a couple of rather rickety chairs, plus she had already ordered two glasses of the house champagne, Monopole, which arrived just as Preshy did.
She dropped a kiss on Daria’s cheek and said, “You’re looking very Parisian tonight.”
“I had my hair cut.” Daria swung her head for Preshy to look and her Nordic blond hair swung with her in a smooth shiny fall.
“Fabulous. Just never cut it short, that’s all.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I was tempted but Tom would never forgive me. He always said he fell in love with my hair before he fell in love with me.” Daria leaned forward, smiling. “You want to know what else he said? This is the truth now. I’ve never told anyone before because I wanted you all to think he fell for me ‘hook, line and sinker’ as they say. Only I’m not so sure that anyone ever really falls like that.”
“So what did he say that was so terrible?” Preshy took a
“I’m sure he does.” Lily was suddenly serious. “But I urge you to ask yourself, do you need a man like Bennett?” And with that she stepped into the elevator and was gone.
Mary-Lou flounced back to the table where Bennett had already paid the check and was ready to leave. She’d expected them to linger over drinks and coffee, but he seemed in a hurry. He wants to get me into bed, she thought with that thrill in the pit of her stomach that she always got when she thought about sex with Bennett.
But no, Bennett dropped her off in front of her apartment with only the briefest kiss, and said he was tired and needed sleep.
“But we need to talk,” she said desperately.
“Not tonight. I’ll call you,” he said, and he got in the car and with a wave, drove off.
She watched his Hummer weave into the busy traffic along the Bund, feeling suddenly very much alone. And she had thought the evening had gone so well, first the discussion about the necklace and her proposal that they work together; then the meeting with Lily. Until Lily made that dumb remark about Bennett going to Paris and liking rich women. Even though the last part was true.
And then the next day, Bennett didn’t call. Nor the day after that. And when she tried to call him, there was no answer. A week went by and she had still not heard from him. Mary-Lou did not know what to think, or what to do. He was her only hope. And besides, she was in love with him.
TWELVE
PARIS
P RESHY was happy. Daria was visiting Paris with her professor husband, on business, and though Tom couldn’t make it, she was looking forward to seeing her friend alone for dinner. Sylvie could not make it either, because of course she had her restaurant to ran. She’d opened it two years before and with its emphasis on freshness it was an immediate hit.
They were meeting at seven at the Deux Magots just around the corner on the boulevard St. Germain, where they would have a drink and decide where to go for dinner. “Somewhere simple,” Daria had said. And Preshy knew just the place.
So it was on with the little black dress again, the heels, and the “rich girl” diamonds. Late, as always, she ran down the steps and into the street, where she noticed a man looking in her shop window.His back was toward her and quickly, before he could notice her, she checked the blue light signaling that the alarm was on, then dashed off across the street to meet Daria. She wasn’t about to open up the shop and discuss antiques with anyone tonight.
The Deux Magots was named for the two antique figurines of plump Chinese commercial agents—the
magots,
displayed inside, but mostly the customers liked to sit outdoors and indulge in the national sport of people watching. The cafe’s popular terrace swept from the busy boulevard into the cobbled square with its simple church, the oldest in Paris, the Èglise St. Germain-des-Prés.
As always the café was packed, but Daria had gotten there early and had snagged one of the tiny tables and a couple of rather rickety chairs, plus she had already ordered two glasses of the house champagne, Monopole, which arrived just as Preshy did.
She dropped a kiss on Daria’s cheek and said, “You’re looking very Parisian tonight.”
“I had my hair cut.” Daria swung her head for Preshy to look and her Nordic blond hair swung with her in a smooth shiny fall.
“Fabulous. Just never cut it short, that’s all.”
“Oh, I don’t know, I was tempted but Tom would never forgive me. He always said he fell in love with my hair before he fell in love with me.” Daria leaned forward, smiling. “You want to know what else he said? This is the truth now. I’ve never told anyone before because I wanted you all to think he fell for me ‘hook, line and sinker’ as they say. Only I’m not so sure that anyone ever really falls like that.”
“So what did he say that was so terrible?” Preshy took a
Similar Books
