The Man of Their Lives Page 7

  As soon as she lifted her eyes, Louis knew that she was angry. Because she’d been waiting alone, she’d been afraid of being stood up. In spite of it all, she was elated that he’d come . Nervous, he sat on the chair across the table from her and went for his pack of cigarettes. She still hadn’t said a word, and he wondered what he could say to make her feel better.

  “You must know the menu by heart by now,” he said. “Would you like to order right away?”

  The sooner this would be over, he thought, the better. This lunch was going to be torture. Crossing his legs, he hit something and he looked under the table. At least she hadn’t wasted her morning, as a good half-dozen shopping bags were on the floor.

  The waiter came over to tell them about the specials.

  “What are you drinking?” Louis asked. “How about a little wine?”

  “Why a little? You’re the one driving.”

  She was very different when she smiled, more attractive and more fragile. His eyes stayed on her, on her smiling face .

  “I’m truly sorry for being late,” Louis said. “Do you prefer white or red?”

  “I wouldn’t mind a light red.”

  After choosing a Beaujolais, Louis relaxed. He offered Francine a cigarette that she declined. With her permission, he lit one for himself and brought the ashtray to his side.

  “So,” Louis said, “did you have a good day shopping?”

  “Yes. I bought a few things. But now I’m exhausted! How about you? How was your day?”

  “Very long and very disappointing,” Louis sighed. “Dealing with TV executives is horribly complicated. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

  “You can work for whomever you want, right?”

  “Well, I don’t know about that… My agent doesn’t necessarily agree with that. But she’s also my sister, so she’s not the most objective person…”

  “Is she your only sibling?”

  “No. I have two sisters. My agent is actually my twin sister. How about you?”

  “I’m an only child.”

  “And that didn’t make you want to have more than one child yourself?”

  “No. Romain is all I need.”

  He suddenly felt like asking her tons of questions, but he held himself back, puzzled at his own curiosity. She still seemed a bit ill at ease, but happy to be there. Same for Louis.

  “Do you mind if I call you Francine?” he asked in a soft voice.

  Francine blushed slightly and smiled once again.

  “Only if I can call you Louis,” she said.

  Louis wasn’t quite sure what to say next. To break the silence he asked about Frédéric and their sessions.

  “He’s trying hard, I’ll say that. I hope it’s going to be enough, but I still can’t guarantee it. He’s a very smart boy, but he lacks motivation. Were you like that when you were a kid?”

  “Gosh, no. I could stay glued to the piano six hours a day. I was totally into it. And nobody was forcing me. My parents weren’t the type to push the little prodigy.”

  “Your parents were strict?”

  “No, not at all! They were complete nonconformists. No rules, no boundaries. They were hippies, basically. Compared to them, I’m very conventional.”

  She was quite the chatter box, for someone who usually was quiet. They continued to talk enthusiastically about a million things until it was time for coffee. Lunch was already over?

  “Well, we should head back,” Louis said with a trace of regret.

  When she got up, Louis noticed that she wasn’t very tall, rather petite with nice legs. Given her complexion, she was undoubtably a natural blonde. He picked up her bags and followed her to the exit.

  “Thanks for driving me back,” Francine said, raising the collar of her raincoat. “And for inviting me!”

  A cool wind was blowing scraps of paper down the sidewalk. A few raindrops were now falling. Francine had to walk fast to keep up with Louis, all the while avoiding looking at him. They reached his car and he opened the door for her, then put the shopping bags in the trunk. Once again she seemed tense, worried. Instead of driving off Louis smiled at her and said, “I had a really nice time. Should we do it again?”

  Louis had meant it. He’d had a good time no question about it.

  “Yes,” she said in a very low—almost quavering—voice.

  She wished she had his aplomb, his cool. But more than anything, she wished he’d kiss her, right here on this street.

  But he didn’t. Instead, he turned on the engine and put the car in gear. She got angry with herself for being so disappointed. What did she think was going to happen on their first date anyway? Since running into him at the supermarket she was on cloud nine, imagining all kinds of scenarios, all wonderfully romantic. Ridiculous and unlikely, all of them. She should be thankful that she was with him in his car, and that he’d mentioned something about getting together again. Just a couple of hours ago, she was sitting alone in that restaurant, glancing at her watch every five seconds, scared to death that he’d forgotten about her. What did she want? For him to declare his undying love?

  Louis’s hand grazed her knee and a jolt of electricity ran through her body.

  “Put on your seatbelt,” he said. “There’s lots of cops out there today…”

  They emerged from the Saint-Cloud tunnel, and she wondered whether she’d dozed off. The Beaujolais, maybe. Keeping his eyes on the road, Louis cracked an irresistible smile.

  “What is it?” she said.

  “Well,” he said, “that…”

  She quickly pulled down her skirt, which had ridden up while she’d been sleeping. She lowered her head, embarrassed, and he looked at the small blonde curls on the back of her neck. A moment of silence followed, while Francine desperately tried to come up with something to say. Her plan had been to try to seduce him, and now she was behaving like a fourteen-year-old girl. She couldn’t help herself. Yet she couldn’t come out and admit that if she were the one driving, she’d stop in the first rest area and throw herself in his arms. She couldn’t think of anything else, even though she kept on taking in the scenery with an air of indifference, looking idiotic, no doubt. How many men had she been attracted to since her separation from Antoine? Two, three? Both lacked conviction, and results. Pretty impressive love life!

  “Where should I drop you off?” Louis said, as they approached Vernon.

  “I left my car at the train station.”

  Just as well that he didn’t see the building where she lived, which was rather bleak. When he entered the parking lot, she experienced a few seconds of panic. The way they were going to say goodbye would determine whether or not they were going to see each other again. She pointed at her small black Renault, and he parked in the space next to it.

  After switching Francine’s shopping bags from his car to hers, Louis said, “What would you say if I invited you to supper?”

  “I would say. It’s about time you asked!”

  Taken aback by the response, he took two seconds to react, and she was already climbing into her car. “Okay, then,” he said. “How about Friday evening?”

  CHAPTER 4

  Romain put his guitar back in its case, very proud of how he, Richard, and Damien had just played. The basement was filled with smoke; Élise had smoked cigarette after cigarette. At least she’d stayed the entire time.

  Richard remained seated behind his drum set, a look of ecstasy on his face. Romain turned to him and said, “Your solo was great! Don’t change anything.”

  Then he glanced at Élise. She was still sulking. She would’ve preferred to go to the Estaminet—the only bar in town where teenagers liked to hang out after ten—to be with her friends. She’d come to the rehearsal only reluctantly tonight. Usually, she loved their music, but she still hadn’t gotten over the stupid fight the week before at the bar, even though Romain had apologized ten times and promised he’d never do anything like that ever again. She’d explained that jealously was not her th
ing. If she wanted to play stupid pinball with someone else she should be able to do it without him acting like a freakin’ moron. He said he agreed with her, absolutely, but he didn’t regret for a second sending Frédéric Neuville a clear message. That guy had hit on Élise one time too many. Besides, nothing bad had happened, nobody got hurt. Richard had also told Romain that he shouldn’t have attacked Frédéric that way. Richard thought that Frédéric was a nice guy, and not at all a rich mama’s boy. Richard almost left the band and again Romain had had to be a masterful diplomat to smooth things over.

  Damien was already unplugging his synthesizer and gathering the electrical cables. His parents had agreed to let the band use the basement as long as they put away everything after each rehearsal. Down there, they could make all the noise they wanted, nobody could hear them.

  “We need to find a place to perform in public,” Damien said. “I think this is the right moment. We’re ready, guys!”

  “Anyone have an idea where we could play?” Romain asked with little conviction.

  Of course, every band dreamed of performing live, but they had no clue how to go about it. And none of them had the kind of money to rent a hall.

  “Okay,” Élise said, looking annoyed. “Can we go now?”

  If they got started talking about their dreams of performing in front of large audiences—fame and fortune and fans and all that—she’d be stuck here forever. All she wanted to do now was leave this basement and get some fresh air. She felt Romain behind her. He kissed her hair. Hanging out with him was fun, so was kissing, too, but she wasn’t sure she wanted things to go further. If they acted so together in public, all the boys would think that she was taken and they’d ignore her. And she loved having boys come to her, talk to her, compliment her. On the other hand, sitting in a corner waiting for Romain to be done with his guitar playing didn’t thrill her at all, even though he was a totally awesome musician and his band was great.

  “What did you think?” Romain asked Élise in a tone that sounded fake.

  “You guys should play in front of an audience,” she said. “You’re wasting your time in this rathole.”

  Romain put his leather jacket on her shoulders, in a protective gesture that she found endearing. Every single girl she knew would kill to be in her place. His longish blond hair, his jeans torn at the knees, his cheerful eyes, his above-average height, his ancient, beat-up moped—all the girls in high school were crazy about Romain. On top of that he was caring and sophisticated. What more did she want? To be in love? Maybe she was and didn’t know it?

  She took him by the waist to direct him towards the door. She looked at her watch and saw that it was 10:30. She was allowed to stay out until midnight, which meant they had time to go to the bar and hang out with the others for a while.

  * * *

  Louis opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of white wine, some cheese, a small bottle of water, and the rest of the grapes. He put all this on the tray alongside some bread, utensils, wine glasses, and paper napkins. The last time he’d prepared a midnight snack like this was with Marianne. And then again, it had been at the beginning of their relationship! In any case, there were no similarities between the two situations, or the two women.

  Leaving the kitchen, he took the main staircase to make it back to the room quicker. He was sore everywhere. He felt exhausted, yet euphoric too. There was a certain amount of embarrassment too, which he hadn’t expected at all. At first, he thought he was dealing with this demure little blond. How wrong he’d been! Francine turned out to be the most sensual woman he’d ever made love to. She was naturally disarming, never intimidated, without hang-ups, and superbly seductive.

  “No need to ask if you have company,” Frédéric said in the darkness as Louis was going by his room.

  He came out in the hallway, peered at the tray, and stared at his father with a devilish grin.

  “Go to bed,” Louis whispered. “It’s four in the morning.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Frédéric said. “I’m not going to join your picnic. Wow, you should see your hair—hilarious! Okay, Dad, good night.”

  Louis went away, chuckling to himself, but he was concerned about what Frédéric might think when he realized that he’d spent the night with his French teacher. A night of wild lovemaking.

  He found Francine sitting up in bed, the white sheets doing a pretty bad job of hiding her breasts.

  “I’m starving!” she said gaily.

  She seemed to be completely content while Louis couldn’t help feeling a bit anxious. He set the tray on her thighs and sat on the side of the bed. To keep an air of composure, he picked up a piece of bread, spread some brie on it, and handed it to Francine with a smile. She straightened up and the sheet fell down completely but she didn’t try to cover herself again. While she poured the wine, he couldn’t resist caressing her shoulder.

  Then he asked, “Are you working tomorrow?”

  “No. But I should be home before Romain gets there. He’s sleeping over at his dad’s. That means you’re going to have to drive me home in a little while.”

  Louis was disappointed and surprised at himself for feeling that way but he nodded in agreement. He found her beautiful there, naked in the soft light of the lamp. And she smelled wonderful. He realized that he wasn’t as exhausted as he’d thought, and he wanted her still. But he was just as happy watching her eat for a moment. All through the night, from the moment she walked into his bedroom, she’d kept astounding him. She’d turned out to be caring, intuitive, but also demanding and quite uninhibited. It was as though she knew him intimately. It felt as if they were accomplished partners and not two people who were making love for the very first time. He’d gone along with her to show her that he could. He was thoroughly enjoying himself too, though a bit anxious that maybe he wasn’t always up to the task.

  Satiated, Francine lay down again with a sigh of contentment. She turned to her side so she could watch Louis as he set the tray on the top of the dresser. He came back to the bed, his bathrobe slightly opened. She reached out to him and undid the belt, making him shiver.

  “You’re cold?” she said in a low voice.

  Of course she knew full well what she was doing, and she smiled as he let his bathrobe drop to the floor. He got into bed and snuggled against her.

  “Do you want to sleep for an hour or two?”

  “I want to sleep for twelve hours!”

  “No can do.”

  He reached over her, set the alarm clock, and turned off the light. If all went well, he’d have time to drive Francine home in the morning and come back with coffee and bagels for Frédéric. When she pressed her body against his, he held her tight. It felt like he wanted to protect her, even if she was anything but a fragile woman. If anything, he figured that he was the one who felt more vulnerable right now.

  “Louis?” she said, half-asleep. “Louis? It was very, very…”

  She couldn’t come up with the word, too tired to formulate anything appropriate.

  “Yes,” Louis said. “Very…”

  * * *

  Alix was driving way too fast making Tom more tense every the minute. He trusted her skills as a driver, but he hated how quickly the scenery was going by. When they were traveling together, she was always the one at the wheel since she hated sitting on the passenger side. Unless she was with Louis; it went without saying.

  The previous evening had been a disaster. Alix came over to the club with a group of actors to celebrate the opening of a movie. She’d had way too much champagne and danced for hours without paying any attention to Tom, except for a peck on the cheek when she first arrived. He’d even come over to their booth with a bottle on the house, but not a single one of those drunk, egomaniacal celebrities had had the decency to thank him. Finally, when most people in the club were gone, Tom went over to the booth again and found Alix half asleep. He tried to convince her that she should take a cab home, but she refused, saying she was having fun. Her h
ead was resting on the shoulder of some fine-looking young man, no doubt the latest addition to the agency. Irritated, he’d spent the rest of the night behind the bar chatting with two stunning women whose names he didn’t even know. Because of that, Alix shot him a murderous look before she left.

  “You didn’t even say goodbye,” Tom said sharply.

  He knew bringing up the topic was going to cause trouble, but he wanted to deal with it before they got to Louis’s, so that they could at least enjoy their Sunday.

  “You were busy. Besides, I was dead on my feet. I can’t party until two in the morning anymore…”

  “A simple ‘Goodnight’…” he said.

  If he put up with that kind of attitude, even once, soon they wouldn’t have any reason to be together.

  “I wasn’t going to go over while you were doing your dirty-old-man thing, trying to pick up those two girls.”

  “Finally the truth comes out. Jealousy! That makes me feel good, in a way. Sometimes I think that when you come to the club, you only notice the doorman and the other hunks.”

  The way she’d said girls. Knowing her, it wasn’t their youth that she envied, but their starlet figures that let them wear whatever they wanted. Alix loved fashion and hated that her generous curves limited her choices of clothing. Tom was always begging her not to go on a too strict of a diet. He looked down at the designer jeans that hugged her thighs and suddenly wanted to reach out and touch her. He never felt that way with girls, he wasn’t wired that way.

  They weren’t that late when they drove up the driveway, which was a small miracle given when they’d left Paris. The first thing that Alix noticed was the strange black car she parked behind. It was a very ordinary car, a Renault that half the country drove. She was intrigued–-Sundays were usually family affairs.

  As soon as they walked into the kitchen, Laura came over with an expression that was both mysterious and delighted. “Louis has decided to introduce us to someone! I’m so excited!”

  “Someone?” Alix blurted. “And where is that someone right now?”

  “In the living room, chatting with Dad.”