Chapter Three

 

 

 

Maia was showered, dressed and reasonably presentable by the time nine a.m. rolled around, but she was resigned to having breakfast looking like a zombie. Who cared, right? It wasn’t like she was out to impress anyone.

When she exited the bathroom, she heard a soft knocking at the door.

The smiling face of the older Girard greeted her. “Miss Reynolds! Bon matin.”

Maia fought to bring some life to her face. “Good morning, Monsieur Girard. What brings you by?”

“I’ve talked to your editor and she said that you have a fantastique article forthcoming. I’m overjoyed and wanted to thank you in person for agreeing to do it.”

She smiled wanly. “You should probably wait until I’ve written it before you say that.”

“Mademoiselle, I have every confidence in you.” Guillaume’s smile turned apologetic. “I came with the intention of walking with you to breakfast.” He blinked at her. “Would you like a few moments?”

Did she look that bad? Maia shook her head. “I was actually just about to go meet your son.”

His ever-present smile morphed again, this time turning soft. “I’m sorry that business has impeded on my joining you both this morning. You have to let me make it up to you. Would you agree to dinner at my home tonight?”

Maia didn’t want to voice the question that bloomed first and foremost in her mind. Was Alex going to be there? Stupid question. Of course he would be. He was the man’s son.

“It will be fantastique. I’m having a few friends over for a private celebration for my birthday. You must come.”

“I can’t think of a reason not to.” She really couldn’t. Alex be damned. She wasn’t about to let him creep back into her life. “It sounds lovely.”

“Wonderful! I’ll have Alex bring you.”

Wouldn’t he just love that? “Thank you. Now if you’ll please excuse me, I don’t want to be late meeting your son. I’m sure he hates me enough as it is.”

“Nonsense. Alex will just have to get over it.” He crooked his arm at her. “Permit me to walk you to breakfast?”

Maia slipped her arm through his. “Please.”

Their progress was punctuated by silence. She was simply too tired to even attempt small talk and Guillaume seemed content to let her brood. At least for a little while.

“You are quiet this morning, Ms. Reynolds,” Guillaume said softly.

In an attempt to change the topic she replied, “Please call me Maia, monsieur.”

He beamed at her. “Only if you will call me Guillaume. So what has you down?”

She smiled in thanks, though she wasn’t quite brave enough to call him by his first name just yet. “I just had a late night.”

“Was there a problem with your room?”

She wasn’t about to tell him the true reason for her funk. “Oh, nothing like that. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

“I hope you’re not worrying over Alex. He will have gotten over dinner by now.”

“But I haven’t,” she muttered.

Guillaume jostled her good-naturedly. “Come now. What’s youth for if not for a little impulsiveness?”

Maia was disinclined to agree.

She was briefly distracted from her self-flagellation by the sight of the terrace as they walked onto it.

The gleaming, white marbled space glowed with the morning sunlight. She could almost imagine she was back in the 1920s as she looked at the intricate wrought iron patterns decorating the door. It was unobtrusive, drawing the gaze to the waves outside or to the arches above the entrance. A perfect touch of glamor.

Her eyes, however, were immediately drawn to Alexandre reading the paper, basking in the sunshine. If the sleeplessness of the night before wore on him, it didn’t show. He looked as calm and cool as ever.

“There’s Alex now. I’ll leave you two to talk.” As if he knew she needed the encouragement, he pushed her lightly in the direction of his son. “I will see you tonight.”

Mouth dry, Maia nodded and slowly made her way toward the table as if she were walking toward her execution.

Bon matin, Miss Reynolds.” Alex didn’t even look up from his paper.

Maia would have bristled, but her entire focus was on the glaring headline and photo of her throwing her drink at Alexandre on the front page. Maia cursed herself. She must have been completely enraged for her not to notice any photographers around.

Point made, he folded the paper and placed it innocuously on the table in front of him. “Please sit. Would you like something to eat? To drink?”

Food was the last thing on her mind. “No. Thank you.”

She let him help her into her seat. A warm breeze blew as he moved back. It wafted over her, spiced with the scent of the sea and Alex. The memories it evoked sent her stomach into turmoil. No. No breakfast today. And possibly not again until after she left Nice.

He sat and regarded her as closely as she was watching him.

For Maia, it was excruciatingly silent. She’d hoped she could gauge what was going through his mind, but his face was implacable.

“What are you thinking, Miss Reynolds?”

Again, the ‘Miss Reynolds’ stung, but she forced herself to smile a little when she looked at him again. “I was wondering the same thing about you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I was thinking how easily you moved from me to my father.” At her incredulous gasp, he continued, “Is he an easier mark for you?”

Bile rose in her throat. “You’re a pig. The only reason I’m still here is because your father asked me to write that article.”

“So you think that by getting on his good side, you will worm your way into his life.”

Her stomach rolled at his accusation. “You are one seriously twisted man. Was it the bump on your head that turned you into”—she gestured at him in disgust—“this?”

“You’re saying that as if you know me.”

“Obviously, I don’t. The man I thought I knew was kind and sweet and would never have jumped to repulsive conclusions like you have.”

As she said it, the sense of loss hollowed her again, leaving the sick, unsettled feeling in her gut. Alexandre Giroux had never really existed. She’d been played from the beginning. And she’d been stupid enough to let herself be fooled.

“I’m only stating what I’m seeing.”

“What you’re seeing isn’t the same as what you interpret.” She huffed a breath. “If you have anything to discuss that’s work related, I suggest you say it now.”

“Or you’ll leave?”

“How did you guess?”

“Ahh, sarcasm.” He reached across the table to slide a white folder to her. “Here is everything you will need to know about my involvement in the reopening.”

“Thank you. Is there anything else?” Maia wasn’t waiting for an answer. She was already out of her seat when he replied.

“Please stay. Have breakfast. I promise I’ll try not to offend.”

“No thanks. I’m not hungry.” She smirked humorlessly at him. “Or are you afraid your father will scold you for running me out of breakfast?”

“That too.” Alexandre levered himself up from his seat and stood, motioning for her to sit back down.

Maia hesitated, but ultimately stayed on her feet. “I should tell him that I can’t deal with this. I can’t write an unbiased review with you around.”

Alexandre frowned. “That won’t do. I won’t let you disappoint my father.”

“I think you’ve got that wrong. You’re the one who’s disappointing him. You are the one making it impossible for me to work.”

That seemed to get him thinking. Maia was within seconds of leaving when he put up his hand. “I apologize.”

She raised her eyebrows with a skeptical quirk. “Really? Because it doesn’t sound like it.”

“I won’t say another word if it will mean that you write this article.”

His steady gaze held hers. He was being serious.

She stared right back. “You know I won’t write anything that’s not true. Just because you stay out of my face won’t guarantee I will gush about everything.”

“I expect nothing else.” He motioned at the table. “Will you please sit back down?”

Maia looked around for an excuse and saw the perfect one when she noticed Chloe making a beeline for their table. “No, thanks. But don’t worry. It doesn’t look like you’ll be eating alone.”

“Off so soon, Maia?” Chloe edged between Maia and the table and took her seat.

“Yeah, I have work to do.”

“Always so serious. You should learn to have a little fun sometime.” She turned to Alex and gave him a megawatt smile. “Isn’t that right, Alex? Maia never lets herself cut loose.”

He smiled at his new companion even as he addressed Maia. “Don’t let us keep you from your work, Miss Reynolds.”

She turned on her heel and left without another word.

 

Alex barely heard a thing as the blonde prattled on about her flight…or the last place she’d been before arriving in Nice…or something.

His mind was on another woman and the things she had said.

There was something about Maia Reynolds that told him that what she said was the truth. It made something deep inside ache, even if he couldn’t remember her or anything that she mentioned. All he knew was that the pain in her eyes whenever she talked about the past was real. And that hurt something in his chest.

But was he really the cause of it?

“Where should we go today, Alex?”

He lifted a shoulder and let it drop again. Alex had little concern with what Chloe did with the day. His interest was with the enigmatic brunette with the fiery temper. “What do you know about Miss Reynolds?”

Chloe pursed her over-glossed lips. “Maia? Why do you care?”

“I’m curious.”

She shrugged as she considered his question. It took her a moment before she pouted and shook her head. “There’s not much to tell. She’s a workaholic. I’ve heard she keeps a tiny apartment that she’s never there to stay in and that she’s left a string of broken hearts because she has commitment issues.”

His smile was sardonic. “That’s quite a bit to know about a woman you claim not to know very well.”

She smiled. “I like to know the people I work with.”

He toasted her with his juice. “As do I.” He took a long sip. “If you’ll excuse me, I forgot I have another appointment this morning. Forgive me. We’ll have to do this another time.”

Alex wanted to retreat to the beach and actually started walking toward it, but the amount of people there kept him near the hotel. Instead, he made his way back up to his suite. The solitude suited his mood as he stood on the wide balcony and stared out at the undulating sea. There was something about the motion of the water that was soothing, hypnotic. It was what he always did when he had to think long and hard.

A knock at the door caught his attention before it opened a crack and his father’s head peeked through. “Alex?”

He nodded in greeting. “Papa.”

Guillaume picked up on his son’s mood and entered quietly. “I just wanted you to know I invited Miss Reynolds to dinner tonight and I need you to bring her.”

Dinner? After what had happened this morning, it would be a miracle if Maia was going to still be in the country.

Alex frowned. “Are you sure she agreed? You didn’t force her into it, did you?”

Guillaume’s eyebrows snapped together. “What are you talking about? Of course I didn’t.” He joined Alex at the rail. “What is going on between you two?”

Alex turned back to face the sea. For a long moment, he stood silently, listening to the distant sound of water meeting beach. “She hates me.”

The lines on the older man’s face softened as he chuckled. “Of course she doesn’t. Is that what’s bothering you? You think she dislikes you?”

“I don’t think, Father, I know. She’s told me to my face that she hates me. What bothers me the most is I have no idea why.” Or why he cared. Alex sighed as he remembered the horrible things he’d accused her of. If Maia hadn’t hated him before, he would judge her if she didn’t now.

He turned to his father. “While I was abroad or after I returned, did I mention anything about a girl?”

Guillaume thought it over, shaking his head slightly as he did. “Not as such. You were on your independence streak and didn’t communicate much while you were away.” Guillaume frowned at the memory, and Alex felt a pang of regret for his youthful impudence. “I knew you were interested in returning as soon as possible but you never mentioned a girl, though I would assume no one would be as eager as you to return to just your studies.” The older Girard sighed heavily. “That time was such a blur. With your mother ill…”

Alex took in his father’s words with a sad scowl. His mother’s illness had consumed them both and had taken over their lives for that brief moment in time. It was entirely possible that any other subject had been pushed aside. “Did I bring anything back with me? Photos? A keepsake of some sort?”

“You know you dropped everything to return because your mother was sick. No one was thinking straight. After your accident, I sent Marcel to collect your things and it was all stored away, though you never had any interest in seeing them again.”

Of course his father would have sent his PA. He hadn’t been in any state of mind to do it himself after the death of his wife, then the accident that had nearly claimed his only son. Marcel was discreet and wouldn’t have looked twice at anything unless instructed to. He would have simply overseen that everything was packed up and shipped back, as quickly and efficiently as possible, ready for whenever Alex decided to retrieve it. Only he never had.

Guillaume walked to his son’s side. “Now, what is this all about?”

“Maia insists we were lovers for a year during my time at university. That I abandoned her.” Alex raked his hands through his hair. “I thought she made it up at first, but now I don’t know.”

Mon dieu.” Guillaume barely whispered the words as he stared blankly out to sea.

“But when I told her about the accident, she immediately told me to forget what she said. That it didn’t matter. But I can see it in her eyes. It matters. Very much. But she refuses to talk about it and even threatened to quit and leave if I push her.”

His father’s gaze hadn’t left the water. “And you think that dinner tonight will do that.”

“I think anything that has to do with us breathing the same air might set her off.” He turned to his father, sighing as he did.

Guillaume smiled gently at his son. “What can I do to help?”

Alex shook his head bleakly. “I don’t know if you can. I doubt if I can do anything to sort this mess out.”

“Perhaps you should talk to the doctor? I can check to see if your things are still in storage.”

Alex shook his head. “Talking to the doctor won’t help. He said that if the memories didn’t come back after a year, it was quite unlikely that they ever would. I would appreciate if you would ask about my things and whether he ran into Maia back then.”

Nodding, Guillaume patted him on the back. “You should sit her down and talk to her. But gently. C’est le ton qui fait la musique. A little wine. Dinner. And use some of that Girard charm I know is hiding in there somewhere.”

Alex couldn’t help but smile a little. His father was a charmer in every way. Unfortunately, he only took after his father physically. If only he had his talent with words.

“Unless you think she’s lying.” Guillaume clapped his son on the back. “What does your heart tell you?”

Alex didn’t know. Only that it hadn’t been the same since she’d thrown champagne in his face. “I need to find out more.”

“I’ll leave it up to you, then.”

If only he had the faith in himself that his father did.