JULIET STOOD IN THE BOUTIQUE and admired the silk blouses and soft leather purses. She remembered when she arrived in Majorca and thought she would spend her afternoons eating tapas and exploring galleries. She remembered gazing at the window boxes full of yellow tulips and the fruit stand filled with ripe peaches and thought she had landed in the most beautiful place in the world.
Now she flashed on her long flight tomorrow and shuddered. She tried to think of the things she had to look forward to: showing Gabriella the Venice boardwalk and the Getty Museum. Taking her shopping at Neiman Marcus and eating frozen yogurt in Santa Monica.
She fingered a gold belt and thought she had to find a present for Lydia. She turned and saw a familiar figure approach her.
“Juliet, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Gabriella called. She wore a floral dress and white sandals.
“I want to get your grandmother a gift, but she has so many beautiful clothes,” Juliet explained. “I was going to come to Casa Isabella this afternoon and say good-bye.”
“I have to talk to you,” Gabriella said.
They sat at an outdoor table and ordered fruit salad and iced coffee.
“Yesterday Hugo asked me to dinner and said he had something to tell me,” Gabriella began. “He made reservations at Es Raco d’es Teix in Deia, it is nestled in the mountains and the food is superb.
“Hugo ordered octopus with Mallorcan vegetables and olive oil. I gazed at his curly dark hair and blue eyes and couldn’t eat a thing.
“He took my hand and said he did something terrible and hoped I could forgive him. He said he always dreamed of being a Cordon Bleu chef and preparing lamb noissettes and the lightest vanilla mascarpone. He didn’t want to own a restaurant that served tapas to tourists; he wanted to create a menu that attracted diners from all over the world.
“A friend told him about a Cordon Bleu cooking course in Paris taught by a former chef at the Crillon. It was a six-month course and you needed a recommendation just to apply.
“He flew to Paris for the interview and said the kitchen was full of young men and women wearing starched white aprons.” Gabriella sipped her coffee. “They beat eggs into a soufflé and whipped Chantilly cream as if they learned to cook in preschool. He didn’t mention it because he thought he had no chance of being accepted.
“Then last week they called and offered him a place. He had to send the two-thousand-euro fee immediately or they would choose someone else.” Gabriella paused. “He asked his uncle for an advance and he’s already put the money back in our account. He said he never meant to do anything without asking me but it all just happened.
“After he finishes the course we can open a restaurant in Majorca that serves coq au vin and chocolate crepes. We’ll get reviewed by Bon Appétit and maybe one day get a Michelin star.
“I wanted to be angry but he was like a child who received a shiny new bicycle. He couldn’t believe this wonderful thing was his.” Gabriella stopped and ate a slice of pineapple. “He asked me to go to Paris and I said yes.”
“What about the hotel room in Paris?” Juliet asked. “You said it was booked under a woman’s name.”
“The owner of the Cordon Bleu course made hotel reservations for all the applicants,” Gabriella replied. “Her name was Céline Gaspar.”
“But you can’t go to Paris.” Juliet gasped. “Gideon offered you a recording contract.”
“I feel terrible, Gideon’s offer is so generous and it would be lovely to be with you in California. But I have to go with Hugo, I can’t breathe when we’re not together.” She smiled. “And if I’m going to run a French restaurant, I have to speak perfect French. I’ll browse in the boulangeries and sit at outdoor cafés eating croissants and drinking espresso.”
“You could still accept Gideon’s offer,” Juliet suggested. “You’d earn enough money to open a restaurant and you could commute between Los Angeles and Paris and Majorca.”
“Hugo and I talked about it, but he’s wanted this for so long, he has to take the Cordon Bleu course,” Gabriella replied. “And I don’t want to be a singer. It sounds glamorous, but I have no desire to spend my time in concert halls or on international flights. I don’t want to Skype Hugo at night or live in different time zones. Since I was twenty, I’ve known I wanted to open a restaurant with Hugo and start a family. Why would I do anything to get in the way, when everything I hoped for is right in front of me?”
“It sounds wonderful,” Juliet murmured. “If that’s how you feel I wouldn’t want you to do anything else.”
“There’s one more thing.” Gabriella reached into her purse and took out a black velvet box. She opened it and displayed an emerald cut diamond flanked by two sapphires.
“Hugo gave it to me last night.” She slipped the ring on her finger. “He asked my parents for my hand in marriage.”
“But I thought he had to put the ring on layaway.” Juliet frowned.
“He visited Lydia. Apparently years ago she fell in love with a British banker who lived in Hong Kong. He asked her to marry him but she said no because it wasn’t the right time.” Gabriella gazed at the sparkling diamond. “She gave Hugo the ring and said she didn’t want that to happen to us.”
“I can’t wait for the wedding.” Juliet smiled. “You’ll be the most beautiful bride.”
“Lydia insists on coming to Paris to pick out a Yves Saint Laurent wedding dress.” Gabriella paused. “I’d rather get married in a small church followed by a simple lunch of lobster ravioli. But if she wants the wedding to be at the Cathedral de Seu with a twelve-tier chocolate fondant cake and bouquets of pink roses, I’ll do anything to make her happy.
“I’ve been talking so much.” Gabriella sighed. “I want to hear all about Lionel.”
Juliet suddenly remembered watching Gabriella and Hugo dance and how they moved like one person. She pictured the way Gabriella’s eyes lit up when Hugo entered the kitchen.
Gabriella believed in love, there was nothing more important. She couldn’t tell her Lionel set her up with Henry, and Henry was never in love with her. She couldn’t tell her Lionel lied and she wasn’t going to see him again. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin and smiled.
“There’s nothing to tell, everything is perfect.”