Authors: Jenna Bayley-Burke
“You think she would have wanted him behaving this way? Canceling orders and firing models? He was never involved in any of that while she was alive. And you? Do you think she would want you to stop moving forward just because she is gone?”
“What are you going on about now?”
“You moved back home, Xavier.”
“So did you, Natalie. She was sick, we rallied together. Besides, it is an enormous house. I don’t know the last time I saw you at home.”
“I moved out two months ago, back to my flat. I wondered when you would notice. I guess you didn’t. Always out at every party, having your picture taken with every model, just the way you were before she got sick, as if you never can grow up from the moment we found out she had cancer.”
“Natalie, you don’t know what you are talking about. I have to go to other shows and parties to network. Models are at runway shows, and I don’t need to justify myself to you.”
She sighed. “I’d hoped taking this trip was your way to find closure. You and
Maman
both loved America so. I thought… I guess it doesn’t matter. Just like him, you don’t want to make any memories she can’t be a part of.”
His mind flashed to seeing Trent walk towards the
chuppah
with his father. Xavier’s first thought had been that he didn’t want to be in the same place without his mother.
“Listen, Natalie, I’ve had a wonderful time in the States. Made lots of memories. I’ve been emailing you pictures of all the places we saw. Lots of memories, so your theory doesn’t hold water. Stop analyzing me.”
“We? You said Jaime was Trent’s sister-in-law, nothing more.”
“She
is
Trent’s sister-in-law.” Jaime had been so intent on keeping their relationship private it had seemed normal not to mention things to his sister. But that had been Jaime’s idea, and he wasn’t sure he’d been so smart to agree to it. “I hope I can coax her to visit Paris, so maybe you’ll meet her and she’ll complain about how I dragged her to a dozen Frank Lloyd Wright homes.”
“You’re involved with her? What does she do?”
“She’s a teacher, and we’re not together.”
“Does she want to be a designer?”
“No. Why in the world would you ask that?”
“We have a family tradition of new designers marrying in, remember?
Maman
did it,
Grandmere
before her…”
“No one said anything about marriage. I can barely get her to say two words to me.”
“Why? What did you do?”
“Asked her to come to Paris with me.”
“Oh God.”
His head throbbed. “Why is that bad? We had a wonderful time together. What is wrong with wanting to see if we still enjoy one another outside of the confined space of a car?”
“You asked her to leave her job, her family and her country so you could see if you still liked her? Reality and you don’t get on, do they?”
“Excuse me? What am I supposed to do? You called me to hurry back home because I have a company and a family that needs me there. For the record, J’aime doesn’t have a job, her family is moving and half of them live in Mexico, not in the States. She has no reason not to come with me, if that’s what she wanted to do. She must not, and I am not about to beg her. Either she wants to explore this or she doesn’t.”
“You are a complete idiot.”
“And you are so delightful.”
“She’d be a fool to follow you back to France like a puppy. I am embarrassed by the way you are treating this poor woman. Why do you want her to come here? Are you in love with her or is she merely good in bed?”
“Watch your mouth.”
“So you fell in love in America. You best tell her before you leave.”
“You can’t fall in love with someone in three weeks.”
“Since you hardly ever have even a second date, three weeks is an eternity. Especially being together the entire time.”
“You make me sound like a cad. There is no point in seeing someone a second time if there is nowhere for the relationship to go. They might read something into it and that wouldn’t be fair.”
“But you think a relationship with Jaime could go further if given the chance. You should at least tell her that. Poor thing, you are very charming you know. It’s not fair for you to use that against her.”
“Believe me, she can handle herself. Why are you taking her side?”
“I’m not really sure. Instinct I guess. You’ve never cared about one woman more than the next. I trust you know what you are doing.”
“You trust me about this where I have no experience, but when it comes to a business I can run with my eyes closed
–
”
“You certainly are arrogant. I see that gene didn’t skip a generation.”
“Look who’s talking, it’s the brightest fashion designer to hit Paris this century.”
“
Maman
said that, not me.”
“You believe her. But to be fair, so do I.”
“Since I’m so bright, I say you invite Jaime to come here again. Give her an open-ended ticket to return so she won’t feel trapped. And if she isn’t interested, well, she probably doesn’t deserve you anyway.”
Cancelled. The position at one of the high schools she was set to interview at had been given to an internal candidate. When things didn’t go her way, they really didn’t go her way.
Jaime should have known better than to get ready for the interview before checking her messages, but she’d woken up late and bounded into the shower. With as early as she climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over her head last night, she should have been up at the crack of dawn. But maybe her body was trying to rebound from the cyclone that was Xavier.
She might have spent a fair amount of time in bed during their trip, but little of it had been sleeping. And after the emotions of the wedding, the weight of everything crushed on her shoulders had sent her home to regroup. Having a good cry had helped, but she still felt out of sorts.
Not wanting to think about where he was, whether he was still in town or already airborne, Jaime concentrated on packing. Thank goodness she’d be staying at Trent’s where she’d have privacy to mourn the loss. If she stayed here she’d have to put on a happy face and pretend she was glad to do the right thing when she really wanted to be young and impulsive and hop a flight to Paris.
Jaime growled at herself, making silly faces in the bathroom mirror as she collected her things. It made her laugh and reminded her she needed to think long term. She wanted the same things Allison did.
Not in the same way
–
she’d never invite the organizing it took to pull off that kind of wedding
–
but she wanted a stable family that was hers fully, not something she had one foot in because she was part of another family somewhere else. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t willing to risk his non-committal offer. She knew what it was like to only halfway belong to something and she didn’t want to settle for that anymore.
The doorbell chimed through the house and she nearly jumped out of her skin. She should be used to it by now. Deliveries had been coming all day as more wedding gifts arrived. With the rest of the family running one relative or another to the airport, she was home alone manning the inventory.
If it was bigger than a breadbox she’d end up having to make two trips to tote everything over to Trent’s. She’d borrowed Allison’s car while they were gone, but it was looking like she might need to trade it in for her mom’s minivan.
She made her way to the door and blinked. In Washington she’d had three locks, a peephole and a sliding chain. Here they had a deadbolt. She needed to get out of the suburbs and back to a city. Portland, Seattle, it didn’t matter as long as the streets were buzzing so loud she couldn’t hear her own thoughts. The quiet must be what made it feel like she was in mourning for something she never really had.
She tugged open the door, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the vision before her. Xavier stood there, looking confident, self-satisfied and very handsome. The sandalwood and cedar of his cologne wafted to her, filling her lungs with one last breath of him.
“Good morning, J’aime. You look nice.” The honeyed sound of his voice weaved around her.
“Thank you.” Glancing down at herself, she realized he’d never seen her trying to look professional. The fitted white blouse and brown pencil skirt were a complete departure from the stylish clothes she’d borrowed from Carla.
“Job interview?” He leaned against the doorframe, his green eyes glinting mischief at her.
“Canceled.” She tried not to sound disappointed.
“Their loss. Invite me in?”
“I’d better not. I’m not having an easy time with this.” She kept one hand on the door, using it to steady herself.
“Then perhaps you are making a mistake and should be getting on a plane with me in an hour.”
She shook her head, a smile lifting her cheeks. “I have to admire your tenacity, but I don’t have it in me to flee the country at a moment’s notice.”
“I asked you three days ago.” Xavier met her gaze, pinning her in place. He wasn’t accustomed to dealing in nuance, preferring to be blisteringly honest in all things. But as much as he wanted there to either be closure or Jaime’s head next to his on the pillow in Paris, he couldn’t bring himself to beg.
“I’m not interested in what you’re offering.”
His gut clenched at her words, his hand fisting around the keys. Thank goodness he’d called a town car to take him to the airport. He’d hoped they’d need it to get there together, leaving the car for Trent.
No matter. He didn’t have time to waste trying to convince her to believe in something he couldn’t explain. He lifted his hand, dangling the keys in front of her.
“I can’t accept a car from you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You need a car, I don’t need it anymore. Besides, you already got a ticket in it. I think that makes it more yours than mine anyway.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not taking it.”
Pulling the envelope from his pocket, he held it out to her. “What you do with the car is your business. I’d like for you to have it. If you want to insult me by not taking it, that’s on you. I signed over the title. You can fill in whomever as the new owner. He dangled the keys, dropping them as soon as he knew they caught her eye. He tried not to grin when she reached out and caught them on instinct.
“Wait, I can’t accept something so extravagant.” She held out the keys, but he heard the purr of an engine on the quiet street behind him. A glance over his shoulder confirmed the town car had arrived.
“The proper thing to do is say thank you.” He handed her the envelope. A million things he wanted to say ran through his mind, but none of them mattered. Instead he did the only thing he had time for.
He pulled her flush against him, his lips hungrily coming down on hers and kissing her with a yearning he feared would never be sated. Her soft mouth opened for him, sending flames shooting through his body. He tightened his arms around her, pressing his body into hers.
The key he’d given her bit into his chest. He decided to ignore it, but then Jaime pressed it harder against him, her body stiffening as she pushed free of him.
“We can’t keep doing this.” She wiped her lush mouth with the back of her hand.
“No.” He took a step back. “We can’t. Please take care of yourself, Jaime. Have a life, a full life.” When his throat tightened he turned and marched to the waiting town car.
“Jaime? Whose red sports car is in the driveway?” Her mother’s voice broke the silence echoing in her brain. She checked the watch on her wrist. She couldn’t have sat here in the living room for more than five minutes, but it felt like days.
“It’s a wedding gift.” She turned the envelope over in her hand, hoping he hadn’t put her name on the title. She’d dodged a bullet with no one finding out about her impetuous fling, and she didn’t want to start explaining now that it had ended.
“A car? Who gave them a car?”
Jaime pulled a few papers from the envelope. He’d signed the title over without designating to whom. Lucky. But there was also a small folder and half a dozen pictures. Her hands shook in recognition. She’d been staring at airplane boarding passes since she was five and had to make her first solo flight to Mexico.
“Honey? What is it?” Before she knew what was happening, her mother was beside her on the couch, an arm around her shoulders. “Are you upset about the car? Since they got a new one I’m sure Allison will loan you hers.”
“Xavier gave them the car. It’s the one we drove out here from DC.” If she opened the ticket her mother would surely know something. There was no way of knowing which pictures he’d printed, yet she gambled on them anyway.
The serious expression on her face at Lake Michigan matched how conflicted she felt today. Her mother laid a hand on her arm.
“You look gorgeous.”
“You can have it.” She handed the picture to her mother and looked at the next one. She saw herself standing on one leg like a flamingo at Carhenge and had to smile. Next came a shot of the horses, so vivid they looked as if they might leap off the paper.