Consume Me (8 page)

He smiled and grabbed a quick sip of coffee.  “I know someone who’s been dying to get his hands on that apartment.  For the past three years he’s asked if I’m ready to sell… something about setting up a nice little nest for his honey.  Apparently, it has everything he wants and needs; close enough to his work place to make nightly calls easily, but far away enough from his wife to keep the relationship discreet.”

Shocked, Taryn gaped at him.  “That’s horrible.”

Chuckling, Errol cupped her chin and tilted her head up for a quick, but loving kiss. “Indeed it is horrible, but if he wants my apartment, I’ll sell it to him.  All I have to do is make one phone call and the deal is done.”

“But, Errol, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.  Don’t you think it’s too drastic?”

“We’ve already been through this, Taryn.” He turned to look at her, his eyes suddenly dark.  “Unless you're telling me you don’t want to come back to Paris.”

“Of course, I’m going to come back.”

“Do you want to marry me, Taryn?”

“What a silly question.  Of course I do.”

Pensive, he nodded and grabbed his briefcase.  “I’ve got to go,” he finally said as he slipped into his shoes and grabbed his keys. “Order breakfast, have a relaxing morning and I’ll be back in a few hours to bring you to the airport.”  He tenderly kissed her lips before leaving.

Alone in the hotel room, Taryn spun Matt’s words around and around in her head.  Getting the insurance money would probably solve a lot of Errol’s problems, more so than if he’d simply tried to sell the restaurant.

Then she considered his offer to sell his apartment.  Everything was going so fast and she was beginning to feel rushed and exhausted by the overflow of emotions

After her third coffee and a few bites of her toast, she decided to take a cab down to the Institute.  Getting to the airport would be a lot quicker if they didn’t have to return to the hotel.  Besides, she missed how the Institute touched all her senses, bringing her alive with all the sights and smells of fine cuisine.  She wanted to take a little peek before leaving.

She gathered her few belongings and headed down to the lobby where the clerk called her a cab.  Within fifteen minutes she was at the Institute and after dropping off her luggage in Errol’s office, she headed to his class to surprise him.

The class of about fifteen students had only one male.  The others were all young females who looked at Errol like a god.  Pretty, bright-eyed, eager and sprite, they all had the same look in their eyes.  That look of adoration, of hunger, of curiosity.

A sudden pang of insecure jealousy strangled Tar as she stood watching Errol smile at the young students.  His eyes sparkled and his smile was warm.  He was all sex and charm… and completely approachable; too approachable.

Taryn scanned the room of pretty girls.  A few were too obvious, making the conquest for Errol too easy and therefore unattractive to him.  Others were eager to seduce him, but the look in their eyes bordered on desperation.  She knew Errol would never want a desperate woman.  But a few of them, barely a handful, were as pure, innocent and naively enamored with him as she had been.

How long would it take Errol to forget her and choose a new conquest?  How long before he grew hungry for female companionship and succumbed to one of his beautiful, young students?  How long before he tired of this game of flying from New York to Paris and back to New York again?

Probably not very long.  After all, if he could have a pretty girl on his arm at all times, right here in Paris, why bother with the trouble of a girl who is all the way over in New York.

The thought made her physically ill and she leaned against the wall for support.  She loved him, with all her heart, but her insecurities were quickly taking over.

Maybe it was too good to be true; believing that he could possibly settle down and marry a girl like her.  Men like him didn’t marry girls like her.  They rarely married at all.  And if they did, they went on to have numerous mistresses, some as early as the very first weeks of marriage.

She suddenly thought of the friend who wanted to buy his apartment.  Could Errol, one day, find an apartment in which he’d regularly go find his lover?

His class was almost over.  Taryn’s heart wanted to reach out to Errol, to talk to him about her doubts.  She wanted him to reassure her, to tell her that he loved her… and only her.

But her pride also told her to hold her head up high and be strong.  She couldn’t possibly spend all her time questioning and doubting him.  What kind of relationship would that be?

Just as the pretty girls and the lone guy left the large room and Taryn was about to enter, a tall and beautiful woman entered by the rear door; Madame X. Oozing confidence and sex appeal, she sauntered up to Errol, her brow cocked in arousal and the promise of a seduction.

Wearing a dark blue, come fuck me dress and sky high black stilettos, she was everything but unthreatening.  She kissed Errol’s cheeks, put her hands atop his shoulders and patted his arms in a show of appreciation for his toned muscles.

Taryn felt the blood quickly rise to her cheeks at the sight, but making matters worse was the look in Errol’s eyes.  He was pleased to see this temptress this vixen who dared touch him. His eyes welcomed her, lured her, charmed her. They dipped voluntarily into the wild woman’s deep, deep cleavage.

Damn it, Taryn fumed.  She’d hadn’t even left Paris yet and he was ogling another woman.  Not only that, but he allowed this other woman to put her hands all over him.

Absent-mindedly, Taryn played with the ring on her finger.  She’d been stupid to accept his proposal to begin with.  She’d been stupid to believe he could ever want to marry her at all.

Maybe she should just call the whole thing off before she really got hurt, before she became fully invested.

Before she exploded right there in front of them and made a fool of herself, she silently turned down the hall and walked out of the Institute.  She picked up her luggage in Errol’s apartment and hailed a cab. 

It was a horrible way to end such a fantastic weekend, but it was time she woke up and smelled the coffee.  Errol wasn’t the kind of man to settle down, and he never would; not with her; not with anyone else.

Chapter 11

T
ar walked blindly through the airport paying little attention to the people around her.  As usual the airport was busy as vacationers, business people and visitors ran around looking for their terminal.  She could hear the distant chatter as people left family members and loved ones at various terminals.  Disheartened, she winced at the warm words of departure that surrounded her: 
au revoir, à la prochaine, bon voyage
.  It all made her hasty departure from Paris all the more painful.

“Taryn?”

Though she heard the excited call of her name in some closed off corner of her consciousness, she paid no attention and walked on.  The only person who knew her was Errol and she wanted nothing to do with him.

“Tar.  Hey, Taryn.”  A handsome young man jumped in front of her.  “Taryn, where are you heading?”

Deeply entrenched in her heartache and anger for Errol, she barely focused on the young man in front of her.  At first bleary glance, she didn’t recognize him and was a little irritated by his pursuit of her.

“Tar, it’s me… Henri.”  He flashed her a brilliant smile and put a friendly hand to her shoulder.

“Henri,” she finally managed as she brought her steady gaze to his beaming face. “Oh, Henri.  I’m sorry.  I’m so lost in thought, I can barely see straight.”

“I can see that.  I’ve been following you and calling your name since you turned the corner.  You seemed awfully deep in thought… and not too happy about it either.  Is everything all right?”

“Everything is fine, Henri.  And what are you doing here?  Where are you off to?”

Henri checked his watch.  “You know what?  I have about half an hour before my flight.  How ‘bout you?”

I have forever, she wanted to say.  Angry with Errol, she’d not even thought of the time and had made her way to the airport a full two hours ahead of her scheduled flight.

“How about a good cup of coffee before you board?” he offered when she didn’t answer.

She nodded.  “That’d be great.  I think I have quite a long wait ahead of me.”

“Great.  Come on.  I know this great little place that serves decent coffee and some great pastries.”

At the coffee shop, Henri ordered while Tar sat at a nearby table.  She tried to muster up a happy mood to hide how she truly felt. If she kept her glum expression, he’d surely question her about it and talking about Errol, especially with Henri, was the last thing she wanted to do.

“
Merci
,” she said as he arrived with two steaming cups of coffee and two
mille feuilles
.

“My pleasure.”

She took a sip of hot coffee.  “So where are you off to?”

“Switzerland.”

“You going to visit your family?”

“Yeah.  Duty calls. I’ll be visiting one of our family farms there.”

“Duty?”

He chuckled. “My father tried to get out of his tractor too fast when he thought he’d run over the dog.  He hopped off that big tractor tire and twisted his ankle.  My mother called and asked me to come lend a hand for a few days.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Henri.”

“Timing is perfect.  I’m up to date with all of my assignments, and I had this incredible craving for my mom’s
boeuf bourgignon
.”  He drummed his fingers along the edge of his coffee cup.  “You left so fast the other time… and then you just cut classes without saying anything to anyone.”

Tar chuckled. “I don’t think anyone else in the class really cared one way or the other.  You know, you're the only friend I have from the Institute.”

“Well then, as your only friend from the Institute, can I ask how you’ve been?”

“Great.  Just great.”

“That’s a pretty lackluster ‘great’. Your sudden absence from class was explained with a family emergency back home.  Is that why you didn’t even say goodbye?”

She didn’t want to lie to him, but she couldn’t very well tell him the truth about her falling out with Errol.  She nodded.  “My mother had a nasty fall and hurt her hip pretty bad.  She’s just now getting back on her feet.”  While it wasn’t the reason she’d returned to New York, it wasn’t a bald faced lie either.

“Funny… I go to Switzerland to help my father and you went to the United States to help you mother.”

She smiled and shrugged. “I guess for all the time they’ve tended to our scraped knees and cut fingers, it’s the least we can do.”

He bit into his
mille feuilles
and looked thoughtfully at her.  “How are things with Errol?”

Startled, Tar clumsily set her coffee cup down then tried to casually pick up her pastry.

“I kind of couldn’t help but figure there was something going on between you two.  I mean, the way he just busted his way in at my place and… well, he pretty much made it clear that you belong to him… well, you know, that you're his girl… you know what I mean.”

Tar smiled as Henri fumbled for the right words to describe her relationship with Errol.

“I mean, I can understand he would want to keep you all to himself. If you were my girl, I would…” He looked sheepishly at her. “Anyway… and now, what brings you back to Paris?  I didn’t see you at the Institute.”

“I had a few things to settle.”

“And now you’re going off to…?”

“Back to New York.  I hadn’t really planned to stay in Paris more than a few days.”  At least she didn’t have to lie about that.

“You know I really missed you in class.  It wasn’t the same without you.  All the other students are so stuck up and pretentious, and all the girls, well… It’s just not the same.”

“You're sweet, Henri. I appreciate that.  And believe me, I’ve missed you too. I really hate that I had to leave the Institute before finishing my classes.”

“Any plans to come back to finish what you started?”

“I’ll see.  Maybe I’ll have a few classes with you when I start again.”

He shook his head. “Actually, I’ve already finished.”

Her eyes popped open.  “How?  I still have almost a year to go before I finish.”

“Like I said… when you left things weren’t the same.  I just decided I didn’t want to waste any time, so I took a few extra classes and now… well, I’m pretty much ready to go out into the world and wow them with my culinary knowledge.”

“And I’m sure that’s exactly what you're going to do.  I have no doubt.”

“But just because I’m not going to the Institute anymore doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be thrilled to see you if ever you return to Paris.”  He let the offer hang in the air an uncomfortable moment.  “So what did you have to settle in a matter of a few days?”

Tar didn’t miss a beat.  “I left so quickly the last time, I left a few things at the Institute and I had a few documents I needed signed.”  She took a sip of coffee and looked thoughtfully at her one French friend.  “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.  Go ahead.”

“How…”  She stopped herself, embarrassed by the question she so longed to hear the answer to. “When I left… the last time…”

Henri cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow.

“Well, I was just wondering how… people reacted.”

“You know how people are.  They’re so caught up in their studies and assignments and everything… not many people noticed, to tell you the truth.”

Taryn chuckled uncomfortably and cleared her throat.  “Well, actually, I was thinking of one particular person.”

“Oh,” Henri exclaimed with a burst of laughter.  “How silly of me.  Of course… Errol.  You want to know how Errol…”

“Yes.  Yes,” she said eagerly.

He pressed his lips together and nearly drove Tar nuts.

“So?”

“At first I didn’t really get it.  It was subtle.  You know how Errol can be; strict, harsh, uncompromising.  Well, all that intensified. He was sour and bitter and inexplicably cruel. A few days after you left we had to make bouillabaisse.  You should have heard the comments he made.  One girl’s dish smelled like a sewer.  Another one looked like baby spit.  And, well, I don’t think I need to tell you how he was with me.  From that moment on, nothing I did was right.  My creams were too runny.  My meringue was too stiff.  My steaks were too seared and my vegetables too soggy.”