Alec ate a handful of Brazil nuts and washed them down with scotch. He felt like a rock star on an all-night bender. Except he couldn’t afford to trash the hotel suite and there weren’t any groupies waiting under his balcony, waving bras and panties.
He glanced at the sketch of Gus wearing a kimono and committing hari-kari. There was a drawing of Gus treading hot coals with a blindfold over his floppy ears. Alec picked up a pencil and studied the sketch of Gus jumping out of a fighter jet. He erased his parachute and threw the sketch pad on the coffee table.
No matter how many disastrous situations he put Gus in, he couldn’t get rid of his pain.
When Isabel entered his suite, he had been sure she was going to admit she was in love with him. He wished he hadn’t sent back the bottle of champagne and eaten most of the duck foie gras. But then he saw her flashing eyes and glittering tiara and knew it was over.
Why didn’t he tell her the truth from the beginning, and how could he have ruined the only thing that mattered?
There was a knock on the door and he answered it.
“Helene had a dream that you jumped into shark-infested waters in Mexico,” Mathieu said, entering the suite. “Pregnant women are so superstitious, she insisted I come here and make sure you didn’t drown in the bathtub.”
“I’m fine.” Alec finished his scotch and ate another handful of nuts. “I was having breakfast.”
Mathieu picked up a sketch of Gus falling off a ladder into a wasp nest and frowned. “I miss the drawings of Gus strolling along the Pont Neuf with a cute poodle.”
“I asked Isabel to marry me yesterday,” Alec began. “She said she had feelings for me, but she promised Antoine she would attend the Imperial Ball. So she would let me know tomorrow.
“Antoine took Isabel into the Grand Hotel’s private library and he was about to propose.” He refilled his glass. “Isabel realized she was in love with me and ran out of the room. Right into Bettina.”
“What happened?” Mathieu gasped.
“When has Bettina ever missed a chance to cause havoc with my life?” Alec groaned. “She told Isabel she thought I was going to ask Isabel to marry me so she couldn’t evict Claudia from 40 Rue de Passy.
“Isabel burst into the suite wearing an exquisite silk gown and priceless tiara and demanded to know if the only reason I asked her to marry me was to stop Bettina.” He sank onto the sofa. “It was like a period drama my mother watches on the BBC.”
“Did you explain that you’re really a viscount and were afraid to tell her? You’d never know if she was in love with you or wanted to marry a French aristocrat.”
“She was furious, it wasn’t the time to discuss my family genealogy.”
“You have to tell her,” Mathieu urged. “She might forgive you.”
“I insisted my feelings for her have nothing to do with Claudia and Bettina,” he sighed. “She said even if it was true it didn’t matter. Honesty is more important than anything. Then she said she never wanted to see me again and stormed out.”
“I begged you to tell the truth,” Mathieu muttered.
“You’re an attorney,” Alec spluttered. “You don’t even know the correct definition.”
“You can’t lie to women,” Mathieu continued. “If you tell her you didn’t get the roast beef she was craving because the butcher closed, she’ll sniff out the truth like a German shepherd.” He paused. “And never make the mistake of saying she doesn’t look pregnant from behind when she’s standing in front of a three-way mirror.”
Alec started to laugh and stopped. He would give anything to buy Isabel bonbons when she was pregnant and admire her rounded stomach. God, what had he done! He had given up a lifetime of happiness because he forgot a simple rule: if you love someone, you have to trust her.
“It’s too late now.” Alec sank onto the sofa. “She’s leaving tomorrow.”
“Do you remember when we were nineteen and got stuck on the metro with some young thugs?” Mathieu asked. “They started hassling us for a packet of cigarettes and you told them you were a black belt in karate.”
“I didn’t have a choice, we were locked inside,” Alec laughed. “They believed me. When the doors finally opened, we ran as fast as we could.”
“Sometimes you just have to believe in yourself. If you love Isabel, you need to fight for her.” He walked to the door. “I have to help Helene buy some new bras, her breasts are the size of ripe melons.”
Alec walked to the desk and glanced at a sketch of Gus tied to the train tracks. He picked up his pencil and drew Gus untying the rope. Gus jumped up and stopped the speeding train with his paw.
He remembered receiving a letter from a boy in Montreal who said he fended off bullies at school because he read Gus and the International Drug Ring and told the other boys he was actually CIA. There was the note from a little girl in Madrid who was sure her cancer was in remission because she read Gus and the Hospital Stay and knew miracles were possible. He still cried every time he read it and had sent a copy to the pope.
He couldn’t disappoint children all over the world by letting Gus be eaten by cannibals. Somehow he had to convince Isabel that he had lied for the right reasons and it would never happen again. But first he had to do something he should have done a long time ago.
He glanced in the mirror and thought he really had to stop wearing this sweater. Christmas was over, and red made his skin look washed out. He pulled it over his head and put on a white button-down shirt and twill slacks. He grabbed his leather jacket and walked to the door.
* * *
“ALEC, WHAT A surprise,” Bettina said when he rang the doorbell of her apartment. “I was taking down the Christmas ornaments. Now that your wedding is canceled, Édouard and I are leaving for Mustique.”
Alec entered Bettina’s living room and wondered how she kept it so pristine. You could dust the glass coffee table for fingerprints and find nothing.
“I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.” Alec wished he could ask for a scotch and soda. But it was too early for a drink, and if he showed any sign of weakness, Bettina would pounce like a lioness on an unsuspecting rabbit.
“I ran into Isabel at the Imperial Ball last night. She was wearing a Chanel gown and diamond-and-ruby tiara.” Bettina sat on the white silk sofa. “I was mistaken, I don’t know how I imagined you together. She’s quite beautiful and apparently she’s a successful analyst.”
Alec remembered when he was five years old and Bettina took him to show-and-tell and introduced him as her younger brother. He was very proud until he heard the other children whispering that Bettina was right, he had unusually large ears.
After school, his mother found him in her dressing room, examining his ears in the mirror. She gave him a bowl of chocolate mousse and assured him his ears were normal.
He couldn’t let Bettina get under his skin. He had to behave like an adult.
“I have a proposition,” Alec said. “You can have my portion of our father’s assets in exchange for allowing Claudia to remain at 40 Rue de Passy.”
“What did you say?” Bettina asked.
Alec had rehearsed the speech on the metro, but now he felt like something was stuck in his throat.
“I’ll sign over my share of Alain’s stocks and other monies as long as Claudia can stay in the house for the rest of her life.”
“Sometimes when people go through a dramatic breakup, it affects their rational thinking,” Bettina replied. “I can have a technician in Édouard’s neurology department do an MRI or CAT scan.”
“There’s nothing wrong with me, but there is something wrong with evicting a woman who spent her whole life making her family happy,” Alec spluttered. “Do you think you would have got braces if it was up to our father? He wouldn’t have noticed if you had teeth like a donkey. And who let you borrow her makeup and wrote a note that you had the flu so you wouldn’t fail a chemistry exam?”
“That was the only test I was not prepared for,” Bettina retorted. “And I stopped wearing Claudia’s makeup when I was fourteen. She bought her lipstick at the chemist.”
“I refuse to have my mother thrown on the pavement like a Christmas tree on New Year’s,” he fumed. “Mathieu will draw up the agreement.”
“Édouard and I could buy a six-room apartment on the Avenue Montaigne,” she mused. “But how will you pay for upkeep on the house? The plumbing is from the Middle Ages and the back porch is sagging.”
Alec treated publishing like a gentleman’s profession and didn’t talk about money. The point of illustrating children’s books was to bring joy to thousands of children, not to own an Audi and spend three weeks in Monte Carlo. But surely Gus was selling well enough to ask for a raise.
He would ask his agent to pursue more merchandising opportunities. He pictured Gus on the side of a lunch box and at the bottom of a cereal bowl, and his chest puffed out.
“I’m an internationally best-selling children’s book illustrator, I can afford to replace a few planks of wood,” he said hotly.
“I’ll discuss it with my attorney and bring you my terms.” Bettina looked at Alec. “You are a quick learner and have a strong basis in the classics. You should take continuing education classes, you never know what you could achieve.”
“Thank you for the advice.” Alec walked to the door. “I’m very busy.”
“Celine and Isabel were both in love with you, you must have something.” She followed him to the foyer. “If you get some assertiveness training and invest in a new wardrobe, you might keep the next woman.”
“How do you know Isabel was in love with me?” Alec turned around.
“I could see it in her eyes when she said your name.”
Alec strolled along the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré and felt like Fred Astaire in Funny Face. He wanted to dance under the Arc du Triomphe and fly kites in the Bois de Boulogne. He looked in a boutique window, and the salesgirl winked as if he was a movie star.
Why hadn’t he done that weeks ago? He suddenly flashed on his meager bank account and overextended charge cards and his chest tightened. He’d create a whole new character and write a second line of books. He wouldn’t let Bettina belittle him again.
He stopped in front of Maison du Chocolat and glanced at the pyramid of pastel macarons. There were trays of flavored ganaches and glazed chestnuts.
He might not be able to afford dinner at L’Arpège or Cartier earrings, but he could still buy Isabel presents. He would fill a boîte maison with hazelnut truffles and pralines.
He couldn’t give up now. Mathieu said he had to fight for Isabel, and he was going to start with chocolate profiteroles with a raspberry filling. He glanced at his reflection in the window and straightened his shoulders. He entered the store and approached the counter.
* * *
ALEC CROSSED THE Crillon’s marble lobby and pressed the button on the elevator. His arms were full with a box of chocolates and a bouquet of tulips and a hardbound book on Monet’s gardens at Giverny.
He had to convince Isabel to give them a chance. Love could be cruel and make you want to put a noose around your neck. But without it every day was as bleak as Paris in January.
The elevator stopped at the fifth floor and he fumbled for his key. He would grab a bottle of Bordeaux from the suite’s minibar and knock on Isabel’s door.
He opened the door and inhaled the scent of jasmine perfume. A woman sat on the sofa, sipping a café au lait and eating a brioche. She had blond hair and wore diamond teardrop earrings and a white pantsuit.
Alec dropped the box of chocolates and gasped. What was Celine doing in Paris, and why was she in his hotel suite?