Honor Thyself (32 page)

“Will you have dinner with me tonight?” she asked him.

“I'd love to.” He sounded relieved. He'd been afraid she wouldn't see him again before she left.

“The Voltaire?” she asked him. They had been there a hundred times. “Nine o'clock?” It was the standard Paris dinner hour, even a little early.

“Perfect. Do you want me to pick you up at the hotel?”

“I'll meet you there.” She was far more independent than she had been in the old days, but he loved that about her too. There was nothing about her he didn't love. “One condition,” she added suddenly.

“What's that?” He wondered what she had come up with.

“You won't propose to me again.”

“Not tonight. But I won't agree to that long-term.”

“All right. That's fair.” Her answer led him to hope that he might convince her someday. Maybe after she'd recovered fully from her accident, or after she finished her book. He was going to propose to her again one day, and hoped that eventually she'd accept. He was willing to wait, they already had for fifteen years, a little longer couldn't hurt. Or even a lot longer. He refused to give up, no matter what she said.

She arrived at Le Voltaire promptly at nine o'clock, on the Quai Voltaire. The guards were in the car with her, and Matthieu was standing in the doorway of the restaurant when she arrived. It was a crystal clear night with a chill December wind blowing around them. He kissed her on the cheek when she walked up to him, and she looked up at him and smiled. All he wanted to do was tell her he loved her. He felt as though he had waited for her all his life.

They sat in a corner booth, and the restaurant was busy. A waiter brought crudités to the table and hot toasted bread and butter.

They made it all the way to dessert without touching on sensitive subjects for either of them. And after dessert, as they nibbled chocolate mocha candies that she said would keep her up all night, he finally broke down. He had had an idea after he spoke to her that afternoon. If she wasn't willing to agree to marriage, he had another plan.

“Long ago, when I met you, you told me you didn't believe in people living together. You believed in the full commitment of marriage. And I agreed with you. Apparently, you don't feel that way anymore. How would you feel about some sort of loose living arrangement, where you are free to come and go? An open-door policy of sorts.” He smiled at her, as she continued to eat the mocha beans. She had already had enough to keep her awake into the following week, and he had too. But who needed sleep when love was up for grabs? And maybe a lifetime.

“What exactly does that mean?” She looked at him with interest. He was creative, if nothing else, stubborn, and determined, and so was she. It was what had kept them together years ago. That and the fact that they loved each other.

“I don't know. I thought maybe we could come up with something that works for both of us. I'd rather be married to you, to be honest. It fits my notions of propriety, and besides I've always wanted to be married to you. I love the idea of your being my wife, and I know you did too. Maybe we don't need the paperwork or titles now, if that's too restricting for you. What if you live with me in Paris for six months, and I live with you in California for the other six months a year? You could come and go as you please, travel, do your projects, make movies, write, see your children. I'll be waiting for you whenever you want. Would that suit you better?”

“It doesn't sound fair to you,” she said honestly. “What would you get out of it? You'd be alone a lot of the time.” She looked worried as she asked the question, and he patted her hand.

“I get you, my love. That's all I want. And whatever time together you can spare.”

“I'm not sure living together sounds right to me, even now, although we were happy when we did. But it felt too awkward not being married to you, and it still might now.” Besides which, the arrangement he was suggesting wouldn't protect her heart from getting hurt again, or either of them from leaving each other. But there was no way to guarantee that. There were no guarantees. If she was going to risk her heart, she would have to risk it, however they chose to live. But the things Stevie had said to her that morning hadn't fallen on deaf ears.

“What is it you want?” he said simply.

“I'm scared to get hurt.”

“So am I,” he confessed. “There's no way to be sure we won't. Maybe if we love each other, we have to take that chance. What if we just come and go for a while, and see how that works? I could come to visit you in Los Angeles after the holidays.” She knew he was going away with his children, and she wanted to be with hers. And with luck, she'd be going to Stevie's wedding in Las Vegas on New Year's Eve. “I could come out on January first, if that works for you,” he suggested politely. “I could stay for however long you like. And then you could come to Paris to visit me in the spring. Why don't we try to go back and forth for a while, depending on our schedules, and see how that works?” Knowing he had been prepared to marry her, she didn't feel he was “trying her out.” He was doing his best to try to accommodate her, and give her the room she wanted to be herself. “How does that sound?”

“Interesting.” She smiled at him. She wasn't ready to commit to anything. But just looking at him told her she loved him. More than she ever had, just more sanely. She was protecting herself this time. Not doing that created the mess she was in with him last time.

“Would you like to do that?” he pressed, and she laughed.

“Maybe.” She smiled again and ate another handful of mocha beans. He watched her do it and chuckled. She had always been unable to resist their mocha beans. It reminded him of old times. Afterward she had kept him up all night.

“You're going to be awake for weeks,” he warned. He was only sorry she wouldn't be keeping him up that night.

“I know.” She smiled happily. She liked his idea. She didn't feel as though she was selling her soul, or taking too great a risk. She could still get hurt because she loved him, but she wanted to ease into it, and see how it worked for both of them.

“May I come to see you in January?” he asked again, as they smiled at each other. Things were going much better than they had the night before. He realized now that he had moved too fast. After all the pain he'd caused her before, he knew now that he had to move slowly, and win her confidence in him again. He also knew how important it was to her to respect herself. It had always been that way. She wasn't willing to sell herself out this time, for his convenience, or to accommodate his life. She was taking care of herself.
And
she loved him.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I'd love you to come out. How long could you stay? Weeks? Days? Months?”

“I could probably arrange to stay for a couple of months, but I don't have to stay that long. It's up to you.”

“Let's see how it goes,” she said, and he nodded. She wanted to keep the doors open, in case she wanted to back out.

“That sounds fine,” he said, wanting to reassure her. He didn't want to make any fast moves and frighten her again. He reminded himself too that she had just been through a terrible ordeal and nearly died, which had left her feeling vulnerable and scared.

“I could come to Paris with you in March, after I go to Tahiti with Chloe. And maybe stay here through the spring, depending on what else is going on in my life,” she was quick to add.

“Of course.” She was the busier of the two now, particularly if he retired from his law firm. He was going to take a leave of absence for the time being. The timing was ideal for him. He was finishing most of his projects in the next few weeks, and hadn't taken on any new ones. It was as though he had sensed she was coming back into his life.

He paid the check for dinner, and they were the last to leave the restaurant. It was late, but they had covered a lot of ground. He had suggested something that she could live with. Her heart wouldn't be protected from potential injuries, but she wasn't giving up her life for him. That was important to her now, even more so than it had been then.

He drove her back to the hotel, with her car following them. He almost drove her through the fateful tunnel near the Louvre, and then swerved away at the last minute. It was open again, but he didn't want to take her through it. He had almost forgotten, but she hadn't. Her eyes were wide with terror as he turned away.

“I'm sorry,” he said apologetically, looking at her with loving eyes. He didn't want to do anything to upset or frighten her, in any way.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning over to kiss him. She liked the plans they had just made, and so did he. It wasn't exactly what he wanted yet, but he knew he had to earn her trust again, come to understand what her needs were, and how her life had changed. He was willing to do that for her. All he wanted was to make her happy.

They were back at the hotel five minutes later, and he took her in his arms and kissed her before she got out of the car.

“Thank you, Carole, for giving me a chance again. I don't deserve it. But I promise you I won't disappoint you this time. I give you my solemn vow.” She kissed him again, and he walked her into the hotel, holding her hand.

“See you tomorrow?” She looked at him with a peaceful smile.

“I'll call you in the morning. After I call Air France.”

Her guards accompanied her to her room, and he was smiling as he got back in his car. He was a happy man. And he wasn't going to blow it this time, of that he was sure.

* * *

Stevie woke up at four o'clock, and saw lights in Carole's room. She approached on tiptoe, to check if she was all right. She was startled to see her sitting at the desk, hunched over the computer. She had her back to Stevie and didn't hear her come in.

“Are you okay? What are you doing?” It struck Stevie then that Carole hadn't been able to use the computer since the accident, and she was working fast and furiously on it now.

“Working on my book.” She looked over her shoulder with a grin. Stevie hadn't seen her look like that since before Sean got sick. Happy, working, and alive. “I figured out how to get the computer going, and how to rework the story. I'm going to start all over again and chuck the stuff I had. I know where I'm going now.”

“Wow!” Stevie smiled at her employer. “You look like you're going about a hundred miles an hour.”

“I am. I ate two bowls of chocolate mocha beans at Le Voltaire. I ate enough to keep me awake for years.” They both laughed, and then Carole turned to look at her with a grateful expression. “Thanks for what you said this morning. Matthieu and I figured out what we want to do tonight.”

“You're getting married?” Stevie looked at her excitedly, and Carole laughed.

“No. Not yet anyway. Maybe one day, if we don't kill each other first. He's the only person I know who's more stubborn than I am. We're going to travel back and forth for a while, and see how that goes. Eventually, he'd be willing to live in California half the time. We're going to live in sin for now.” She laughed, thinking of the irony that now she didn't want to get married, and he did. The tables had turned.

“That'll work,” Stevie said happily. “I hope you do marry him one day. I think he's the right guy for you. You must have thought so too or you wouldn't have put up with all that shit years ago.”

“Yeah. I think so too. I just need time. It was a rough ride.”

“Some things are, but they're worth it in the end.” Carole nodded, and Stevie yawned. “How's the book coming?”

“I like it so far. Go back to bed, I'll see you in the morning.”

“Get some sleep eventually,” Stevie said as she padded back to her own room. It didn't look like that was going to happen for a while. Carole was up and running again.

Chapter 19

C
arole and Matthieu spent her last night in Paris having dinner at a new restaurant he had heard about and wanted to try. The food was excellent, the atmosphere was romantic and intimate, and they had a lovely time. He had made his plans by then, and was coming to Los Angeles on January second. He was returning from his ski vacation in Val d'Isere with his children the day before. They talked about their respective plans for the holidays, and she told him about spending some extra time with Chloe before Christmas. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

“You really didn't cheat her out of anything, you know,” he reassured her. He still thought Chloe's resentment of her mother was unreasonable, given what he'd seen when she was a child. But Chloe's impressions of that time were different.

“She thinks I did. Maybe that's all that matters. Neglect is in the eye of the beholder, or the heart. I've got the time to spend with her, so why not?” Although they only had a short time before her father and brother arrived.

There was nothing sad about their evening together, because Carole knew Matthieu was coming to California in two weeks. She was looking forward to spending Christmas with her children and Jason. And she was hoping to go to Las Vegas over New Year's for Stevie's wedding. In spite of that, Stevie had already said she would come to Paris with her in March or April. Alan was fully prepared to be understanding. And at some point, Carole intended to try to do without her for a while. Maybe she and Matthieu would take some trips in Italy and France. She was hoping to have made good inroads on her book by then.

When dessert arrived, he pulled something out of his pocket and handed her a Cartier box. It was a Christmas gift that he'd had made for her.

She opened the box carefully, relieved to see that it wasn't a ring box. There was nothing formal about their arrangement yet. They were trying it on for size. When she opened the box, she saw that it was a beautiful gold bangle bracelet. It was totally simple with the exception of three diamonds on it. He had had an inscription engraved inside, which he said was the best part. She held it close to the candle on the table so she could read it, and as she did, tears came to her eyes. It said “Honor Thyself. I love you, Matthieu.” She kissed him and put it on. It was his way of saying that he approved of what she was doing and loved her just as she was. It was a sign of respect as well as love.