“He wants us to come to Paris?”
Audrey hesitated. “But she can’t—”
“Paris?” This was the second time today that she was being summoned to Paris. This was no coincidence.
“Change of scenery… Paris… a little art mystery for us to solve. It might be fun, non?” Gaston raised his brow.
“Wine… almond croissants… ten million dollars.” Lara nodded. “I’m in.” She noticed that her mother had suddenly become very uncomfortable, shifting in her chair and tugging at her hair. “Are you okay, Mother?”
“I’m fine.” Audrey looked anything but fine.
“Bon. I will email Barrow tonight,” said Gaston.
After dinner, the Rivoli Circus Orchestra performed in the foyer of City Hall. The expansive stairs and balcony were lined with people sipping cocktails and dancing.
Ben and Lara were perched on the stairs watching partygoers. “Can I get you champagne?”
“I would like that,” said Lara. She followed him down the stairs.
He put his finger up for her to wait one minute at the bottom and Lara watched him walk to the bar.
He returned with two glasses, and instead of handing one to her, he placed both glasses on a highboy and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. She wrapped her arm around his neck and felt his body press against hers. Oh, how she’d wanted this night to be different. Ben was her closest confidant. Had she been confused by her feelings for him? Was she rebounding as her mother had suggested? No. Even now, dancing with him, there was a space for him. She just wasn’t sure that it would be enough for him. Even now, he looked at her expectantly.
“You look far away tonight,” said Ben.
She smiled. It was hard for her to hide anything from him. “I heard you’re a terrible dancer.”
“No,” he said. “I’m a terrible waltzer and I cannot do the tango. I see you’ve been talking to Marla. She delights in telling people that I can’t dance. And quit evading the question.”
“I’m okay,” she said. “Stop interrogating me.”
“You look beautiful.”
She closed her eyes. It was what Todd had said to her earlier, on the steps.
He leaned in, and Lara could smell his aftershave. “Can I tell you something that I’ve never told you? I mean, I wanted to tell you this so many times, but I just didn’t know how to broach it.”
“Sure.” Her cheek was nearly touching his, and she whispered into his ear.
“It’s a shame no one saw you,” he said. “That day.” He turned his lips, and she could feel the warmth of his breath in her hair. He didn’t need to elaborate on what day he meant. She knew it was the day of her wedding. “You were breathtaking.”
She recalled the scene as she marched out through the Gothic church doors. She pulled him close and just held him. It was such a raw admission from him. And that day was still such a wound to her that it was like a glue between them.
“Thank you,” she whispered, more genuinely than she had ever said anything in her life. They danced that way for two songs, holding each other tightly, feeling the rhythm of each other’s breath.
Finally, he took her hand and guided her out the door, down the steps, and up the block to her house. While she was glad to be leaving, Lara felt a weight tugging on her. She’d have to tell Ben Archer that she wasn’t ready for this. They walked in silence, his hand placed in the small of her back. When they got to her gate, she could still hear the echoes of big-band sounds coming from the gala on the street below.
“‘Moonlight Serenade.’”
“You know Glenn Miller?” There was more than a hint of admiration in the question.
“I am a true Renaissance man, Lara Barnes. You aren’t the only one who knows music.” He slid his hand in hers and led her through the gate, up the stairs to the porch swing.
“You most certainly are,” she said, taking a seat. As they swung, the band’s clarinet sound from another time competed with the sound of the breeze shuffling the leaves, the moths hitting the light, and a wind chime clinking off-key somewhere in the distance.
“I love the sounds of summer,” she said.
“Lawn mowers,” he added.
“Ice in glasses.”
In the moonlight, she could see his eyes light up. She studied his face, loving the angle and the way the moon cast shadows on him.
“Can I tell you something?” She placed her fingers under the swing’s seat to steady herself.
He gave her a disapproving look. After months of telling him everything, however minuscule, about Todd and her feelings, she knew the answer already.
“I thought I saw him tonight,” she said, looking down at her dress, which was sweeping the floor with each swing. “In the crowd.”
He was silent, then sighed. “Him?”
“Him,” she confirmed.
“You saw him, like, I should call Doyle and investigate it?”
“No,” said Lara sadly. “It wasn’t real. I was mistaken.”
“But you’d wanted to see him.” His voice fell and he leaned back on the swing, groaning. “I knew this was too soon.”
“I’m conflicted,” said Lara. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“Well, I wish you hadn’t been thinking of him tonight, but no, I’m glad you were honest with me.”
“I thought I was over him… and ready for this. I really did.” They weren’t saying his name—Todd—as though he wielded a power over both of them that his name would intensify.
“Oh, Lara,” he said, pulling her to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I don’t think it’s like a bout of the flu.”
She put her hands over her face. “I’m so sorry. I wanted this night to be different.”
After a few moments of silence, he got up from the swing, the sudden absence of his weight sending it sideways until she put her legs out to stop it. “I should go,” he said.
Rising, she followed
