had any time off.”
“And me,” Kate said. “It’s completely my own fault—I love my work, and I choose to work through my lunch breaks and stay late, it’s just nice to…” She didn’t really know what to say. Was it that she was outside on a beautiful day? Was it that she was in the present rather than delving into history? She stopped and thought for a moment, took in the gorgeous aromas from the bistro, the sounds of children laughing and lovers chatting and then she looked over at Isaak, relaxed and enjoying their long lunch, relaxed and seemingly enjoying her company and it was a moment she would never forget. “It’s just nice to be here,” she said finally.
It was.
“Are you happier today than you were yesterday?”
“Yes,” Kate admitted. “I never expected to be enjoying myself especially after last night. I truly am sor—”
“Kate, can we not go there again,” Isaak interrupted. “I was very angry last night but when I thought about it, I can understand why you may think like that. If you know anything of my family history, then you will know that my father and his father before him were not the kindest of men.”
He watched the colour suffuse her cheeks and misinterpreted it for embarrassment at the subject matter. “Come on,” he said, draining the last of his drink, “let’s wander.”
There was nowhere more beautiful than Paris in springtime and Kate wasn’t sure if it was for show when he took her hand, but whatever it was, she liked the feel of his hand there, the way he guided her through the streets and how, when she spoke, he would squeeze her fingers, or lift her hand higher if something she said made him laugh.
“It’s so beautiful,” Kate said as they wandered around the Garden of Palais Royal, and as they sat down on the grass near the fountain, Kate just took it all in. “It’s far more beautiful than I remember.”
“How many times have you been?”
“I came here with school,” Kate said, “and then with my mother just after my father died, I was sixteen…” she wrinkled up her nose at the memory of that time. “I went for a walk and got lost and I ended up in Pigalle…”
Isaak raised his eyebrows, because Paris’s red-light district would be a very seedy place to find yourself at sixteen, especially a sixteen-year-old Kate.
“What did you do?”
“Panicked!” Kate said and she closed her eyes as she returned to the wretched memory of that time. All the near-naked women in windows and the XXX clubs and bouncers inviting her to come in for free wine. Somehow she had got back to the hotel shaken and crying, and her mother had asked just where the hell she’d been and Kate had been too scared to admit she’d simply got lost.
“It wasn’t the best time,” Kate admitted. “I probably overreacted, but I was so upset over my father and so confused about—” She certainly wasn’t going to tell him what she was confused about. “Other things.”
“You still miss your father?” Isaak asked, sensing that she wanted the subject changed.
“I do,” Kate said. “He really was the kindest, sweetest man.”
“So, what did he see in your mother?” Isaak asked with a slight roll of his tongue in his cheek, for at the wedding he had not taken to Kate’s mother in the least.
“She’s very beautiful, she can be charming when she wants to get her own way, and…” Kate thought for a moment. “She’s very good at flicking the guilt switch.”
“Why did you leave the family business?”
“Because I couldn’t stand to see it going down. My father was successful because, for him, antiques were his passion. He taught me so much—he would spend a whole afternoon shining a cigar cutter or just pouring over books to find one image that matched his latest treasure.”
“You’re the same.”
“He got me addicted.” Kate smiled, thinking back to all those wonderful weekends when he’d taken her to auctions and they’d wander around for
“And me,” Kate said. “It’s completely my own fault—I love my work, and I choose to work through my lunch breaks and stay late, it’s just nice to…” She didn’t really know what to say. Was it that she was outside on a beautiful day? Was it that she was in the present rather than delving into history? She stopped and thought for a moment, took in the gorgeous aromas from the bistro, the sounds of children laughing and lovers chatting and then she looked over at Isaak, relaxed and enjoying their long lunch, relaxed and seemingly enjoying her company and it was a moment she would never forget. “It’s just nice to be here,” she said finally.
It was.
“Are you happier today than you were yesterday?”
“Yes,” Kate admitted. “I never expected to be enjoying myself especially after last night. I truly am sor—”
“Kate, can we not go there again,” Isaak interrupted. “I was very angry last night but when I thought about it, I can understand why you may think like that. If you know anything of my family history, then you will know that my father and his father before him were not the kindest of men.”
He watched the colour suffuse her cheeks and misinterpreted it for embarrassment at the subject matter. “Come on,” he said, draining the last of his drink, “let’s wander.”
There was nowhere more beautiful than Paris in springtime and Kate wasn’t sure if it was for show when he took her hand, but whatever it was, she liked the feel of his hand there, the way he guided her through the streets and how, when she spoke, he would squeeze her fingers, or lift her hand higher if something she said made him laugh.
“It’s so beautiful,” Kate said as they wandered around the Garden of Palais Royal, and as they sat down on the grass near the fountain, Kate just took it all in. “It’s far more beautiful than I remember.”
“How many times have you been?”
“I came here with school,” Kate said, “and then with my mother just after my father died, I was sixteen…” she wrinkled up her nose at the memory of that time. “I went for a walk and got lost and I ended up in Pigalle…”
Isaak raised his eyebrows, because Paris’s red-light district would be a very seedy place to find yourself at sixteen, especially a sixteen-year-old Kate.
“What did you do?”
“Panicked!” Kate said and she closed her eyes as she returned to the wretched memory of that time. All the near-naked women in windows and the XXX clubs and bouncers inviting her to come in for free wine. Somehow she had got back to the hotel shaken and crying, and her mother had asked just where the hell she’d been and Kate had been too scared to admit she’d simply got lost.
“It wasn’t the best time,” Kate admitted. “I probably overreacted, but I was so upset over my father and so confused about—” She certainly wasn’t going to tell him what she was confused about. “Other things.”
“You still miss your father?” Isaak asked, sensing that she wanted the subject changed.
“I do,” Kate said. “He really was the kindest, sweetest man.”
“So, what did he see in your mother?” Isaak asked with a slight roll of his tongue in his cheek, for at the wedding he had not taken to Kate’s mother in the least.
“She’s very beautiful, she can be charming when she wants to get her own way, and…” Kate thought for a moment. “She’s very good at flicking the guilt switch.”
“Why did you leave the family business?”
“Because I couldn’t stand to see it going down. My father was successful because, for him, antiques were his passion. He taught me so much—he would spend a whole afternoon shining a cigar cutter or just pouring over books to find one image that matched his latest treasure.”
“You’re the same.”
“He got me addicted.” Kate smiled, thinking back to all those wonderful weekends when he’d taken her to auctions and they’d wander around for
Similar Books
