Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
After a series of kisses on both cheeks, they were gone.
I scratched Beau’s ears, then leaned against the kitchen doorway, French music drifting from a radio on the counter.
“What’s this song? The one on the radio. I know it’s Édith Piaf, but is it special?”
“La Vie en Rose,” he replied. “Her famous ballad…a love song. It means to see life in—”
“No, don’t tell me. I like the mystery. I feel so French when I hum along, you know?”
Alistair smiled affectionately. “If you say so. Wine?”
“Yes, please. So…where are we, and what just happened?”
“Françoise and Jacques are old friends and the owners of this fine establishment,” Alistair explained. “They live next door and rent rooms here. I called to let them know I’d be in the area, and they said we could have the place to ourselves for the price of keeping Beau company while they’re out for the evening.”
“Sweet deal,” I commented, following him into a quaint kitchen with open shelving chock full of colorful plates and bowls. “She said you met through the ex? Are they archeologists or something?”
He helped himself to a bottle of wine and motioned for me to take a seat at the long farmhouse table in the middle of the room. “No, Colin went to university with Françoise’s brother, who’s a colleague of mine at the museum. I told you academia is a small world.”
“It’s the same in my world too, honey. Practically every stylist in WeHo either previously worked for a Hollywood studio and left the grind with a few big-name clients or they’re newbies trying to make their way up the food chain. Like me.” I thanked him for the wine, smiling when Beau lumbered over and settled at my feet. “This is fun. I feel like I’m playing house in another country.”
“You are. Cheers.” He clinked our glasses as he slid onto the chair next to mine.
“Cheers.” I sipped my wine, relishing the buzz of alcohol and happy vibes from my unexpected day. I didn’t want to ruin this, but I seemingly couldn’t help myself. “What’s Colin like?”
Alistair tilted his chin, narrowing his eyes. “Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. Is he stuffy and boring? Please say yes.”
He barked a laugh. “I can’t believe you didn’t guess that I was the stuffy, boring one in that story.”
“Oh, stop fishing for compliments. Other than a peculiar allegiance to neutral shades, you’re the most interesting man I’ve ever met,” I gushed.
That was the absolute truth. I mean, today alone had been one adventure after another, and Alistair was the khaki-clad wizard who’d made it happen.
“Really? I’m chuffed, but—”
“Chuffed? Like…scuffed, fluffed, stuffed? What does that mean?”
He snickered merrily. “It means pleased. I think you knew that, you cheeky monkey.”
My smile was in danger of splitting my face in half. I sipped my wine in an attempt to regain control of my facial features. And though the topic no longer interested me, I needed a diversion.
“What were you saying about Colin?”
“Nothing at all,” he countered. “But since you’re curious, he’s a nice bloke—intelligent and ambitious. He’s the professor every student hoped to be assigned to and the dinner guest you strategically place at the table to keep conversation going. In other words, my opposite.”
“Oh. I’m assuming it’s not weird that we’re at his friend’s sister’s house in another country.”
“Not weird at all. As I mentioned, my social and professional circle are one and the same. Our relationship has been over for years now. We have a lot of crossover and it can be invasive, but I don’t care for drama—especially if it’s about me.”
“Are academics drama queens?”
“Some are. I don’t pay attention, and I don’t listen to gossip. It was a good thing that only a few friends knew about Colin and me. Like Françoise’s brother, Phillipe. Françoise and Phillippe are probably one of the few who chose sides and stuck with me. The rest, like my parents, thought I was probably to blame. Doesn’t matter. I’d rather be known for my academic contributions than for being the fool who let Colin Farrington get away.”
I dragged my teeth over my bottom lip. “Oh, no. You’ve still got feelings for him.”
Alistair scoffed. “Absolutely not.”
I wondered if that was totally true. I’d witnessed his angst a few weeks ago after I’d run into Gerard. That had to have been more than a desire to maintain professional distance while working overseas. But I didn’t want to know. I was sorry I’d brought up the ex. Colin didn’t belong here.
“Good.”
“And I have to warn you that Françoise has probably already told Phillipe about you. She’ll make it sound like wedding bells are imminent, too.”
I chuckled, relieved to change the subject. “Oh! How exciting! Our wedding is going to be huge.”
“Oh, dear. I was hoping for something small.” He pushed the sleeve of his sweater to his elbow and picked up the wine bottle. “More?”