One Paris Summer (Blink) (20 page)

“Surely Eva would give it to you. I know she loves Camille, but I don’t think she’d let her daughter sway her like that.”

“Camille could tell Eva something that would make her refuse to sign the recommendation.”

“You mean like blackmail?”

He shook his head in confusion.

“She’ll tell her mother something bad about you if you make her mad?”

“Oui
.
”

I wanted to ask what she had on him, but it wasn’t any of my business. Besides, I wasn’t ready to lose the illusion that he was the perfect guy. “Just to get this straight: You need Eva to recommend you. Which means you can’t piss off Camille and have her tell Eva the big bad thing.”

“Oui.”

“And because Camille hates
me
so much, she will run and tell Eva the big bad thing if she finds out you and I are friends.”

“
Oui.
” I had never heard a word sound so sad.

Trying to push my frustration aside, I gave him a sympathetic smile. “I understand.”

He looked like he thought I might be playing a trick on him.

“No, I do. This is your life. Your future. You need this. I’m only here for the summer. You can’t throw that away for me.” A selfish part of me wanted him to want me more than his future, but I also knew that wasn’t realistic. Or fair. He barely knew me.

“Sophie.”

I forced a warm smile. “Mathieu, I still want to be your friend, whether you let me play your piano or not.”

“I want to be your friend too . . .”

“And I agree to keep it a secret. I would never want to hurt your chance at the internship.”

“Merci.”

We looked at each other for several seconds, and I wondered how I could have gone from feeling so fizzy with hope to utter devastation in a matter of minutes. “I need to go.” I turned and started walking, hoping he hadn’t heard the quaver in my voice.

When we got to the corner of my dad’s street, I stopped. “I think it’s too risky for you to come to the door. Eric was following me down the stairs this morning, and he almost saw you.”

He nodded, but looked reluctant. “Are you going out with Camille today?”

“I don’t know.” I grimaced. “Eric and I told our dad that we don’t want Camille to be forced to take us around the city. So I don’t know if I’ll be invited on any more outings. Which is sad since I had fun at Musée Rodin . . . when everyone started being nicer to me.”

His face darkened. “When Thomas started talking to you.”

Ah, so that explained his behavior with Thomas. He was jealous, but he had no right to be. Not anymore. He had made his choice, and while I understood it, I didn’t have to be held hostage to it. “I guess he’s not being blackmailed like you are.”

His eyes darkened even more.

“When we’re with your friends, I promise to pretend like we hardly know each other. That’s all you can ask of me.”

“I know.” Then he said something in French and walked away.

“
WHERE HAVE YOU
been
?” Eric shouted as soon as I walked through the front door.

My mouth dropped open.

“Sophie!”

“I . . .” Why was he so furious? “Last time I checked, you aren’t my father or even my babysitter.”

“No, I’m your brother!”

“He’s been freaking out for the last hour,” Dane said, walking out of the kitchen. “He even walked around the block looking for you.”

Eric shot him a glare before turning his attention back to me. “Where have you been?”

“Out.”

“That’s not an answer!”

“I thought you wanted me to see Paris!”

“I was worried something might have happened to you! Especially after the way you left. Dad would have flipped out if you had gotten lost while I was in charge.”

“In charge? Are you kidding me? I’m not five years old, Eric. I’m sixteen. You’re not in charge of me.”

He scowled at that, and I stomped off to Camille’s room, only to stop in the doorway when I saw her lounging on her bed, flipping through a French gossip magazine. Her upper lip curled as she glanced up at me. “Oh. You’re back.”

I studied her with my new knowledge rolling around in my head. I knew the apartment had been in Eva’s family for
generations. Had Camille lived here before the accident? Dad and Mathieu said she’d been forced to change bedrooms because she had to share her space with me. This room was bigger than the one Eric and Dane were staying in, but maybe she had some special attachment to it. Or maybe it was the principle. I wondered how I’d feel if Mom married her boyfriend and he had a daughter who invaded
my
room.

I must have stood there long enough to annoy her. The magazine lowered and her eyes narrowed. “Do you find me so fascinating that you want to watch me all day?”

And just like that, my guard was back up. Camille may have experienced pain in her life, but she didn’t make it easy to be understanding. Without saying a word, I grabbed my laptop and started to leave the room, unsure of where to go. I couldn’t stay in here, and Eric and Dane were in the living room.

“Where were you this morning?” she asked.

Something in her voice caught my attention. Did she know? “I was out.”

She scowled, then looked down at the magazine. “My friends are going to see a movie later. Thomas has asked if you are coming.”

I stopped. “Are you inviting me to go?”

“No. I’m telling you that I’m seeing a movie and Thomas will be there.
He
would like you to come.”

“What are you seeing?”

She grinned as she continued to study her magazine. “Something French.”

I supposed that was a given since we were in Paris. “When are you leaving?”

“In two hours.”

“Thanks.” It was hard to say it, yet I felt it was warranted. She could have told Thomas I wasn’t going and left it at that. But then
again, she wanted Dane to go, which meant inviting Eric. Given my brother’s recent display, I suspected he wouldn’t go without me.

I walked into the hall and sat on the plum-colored bench I’d admired on my first visit to the apartment. I’d sent Mom an email the night before, confronting her with my new insight to their breakup, and I still hadn’t heard from her. I also intended to send an email to Jenna, but Eric found me as soon as I opened the lid.

“I’m going to grab a panini from the shop down the street.”

“Okay.”

“You’re coming with me.”

I shook my head. “You can’t order me around, Eric.”

His tone softened “
Please
come get a sandwich with me.”

This was the Paris Eric, the one who actually liked to spend time with his little sister. I had to admit he was a curiosity I wanted to study more. I closed the lid to my computer and set it on the seat next to me. “Fine.”

He grinned, although it looked more smug than happy.

I grabbed my bag and followed him out the door. “Dane’s not coming?”

“No.”

We were silent the rest of the way down the stairs, and when we started down the sidewalk, he finally spoke. “I’m sorry about Dane.”

“Which part?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess there are multiple things to apologize for.” His grin faded. “What happened this morning?”

I shrugged. “He was being a jerk. No different than any other day.”

“He has his moments at home, but I’ve never seen him like
this
.”

I believed that. Eric could be a jerk in his own right, but I knew him better than to think he’d knowingly be best buds with a guy who was a jerk 24/7. “I’m sorry that it hasn’t worked
out for you like you’d hoped,” I said. “I know you had plans for the two of you.”

He just shrugged, but I knew him well enough to know he was disappointed.

There was a line at the restaurant. As we queued up, Eric said, “I saw you with Mathieu this morning.”

All my blood rushed to my toes. “
What?
”

“I followed you. When I looked out the front door, I saw you two walking down the street.”

I waited a beat before I asked, “Are you going to tell Camille?”

“It depends on why you were with him.”

“He has a piano.”

It was his turn to look surprised. “Oh.”

“Yeah . . . the day he came back to the apartment with me from the catacombs, he heard me play on the keyboard. He said he had a piano and offered to let me play at his place. I’ve gone over there the past few mornings.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“He doesn’t want Camille to know.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged, feeling defensive. “It’s kind of complicated, but the bottom line is that they recently dated for a short bit, although he says it was nothing serious.”

“So? She’s with Dane now.” He didn’t sound happy about that either.

“He broke up with her, and I don’t think it ended well. Plus, he wants an internship at Eva’s office, and Camille has some kind of information she could spill to her mother that would guarantee he loses the position. So, since she doesn’t like me . . .”

“He doesn’t want her to know he’s helping you.”

“Exactly.”

“What else are you doing at his apartment?”

I gaped at him. “Nothing! I’ve been playing the piano.”

“You didn’t take any sheet music today. And you were gone longer than usual.”

“What are you insinuating?”

“He’s a guy, Sophie. And he’s carrying on this secret relationship with you that is supposedly because Camille will get pissed about it.”

“He’s not like that. And we don’t have a
relationship
.”

He gave me a look of disbelief.

“
Nothing
has happened between us. Half the time we just argue.”

He scowled. “
That
doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“We usually get some kind of pastry on the way to his apartment, then I play the piano for two hours. He tells me when it’s time to go and he walks me back.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I get to play a real piano, Eric. A Steinway.”

The line had moved several paces forward and we stepped inside the doorway. “Do you know what you want?” he asked, pointing. The case was full of quiches, sub sandwiches, and personal pizzas.

I asked for a mozzarella, tomato, and basil sandwich on a baguette and Eric got a sandwich with ham. The employee warmed them up, then handed them to us in parchment paper. There were only a few tables, and they were full, so we took our sandwiches outside and ate them while we walked back.

I took a bite of my sandwich and made a sound of contentment. “Why don’t we have fast food like this back home?”

“Good question.” He took another bite, then said, “We’re only here for a few weeks, Soph. Don’t get too attached to a guy who lives in Paris.”

“I could say the same about you and Marine.”

He blushed a little. “There’s nothing much there with Marine. I’m smart enough to know not to get too involved when I’m going to leave. But you . . .” He turned to me with worry in his eyes. “You’re new to this.”

I sighed. “I already told you there’s nothing going on. He’s not interested in me.”

“I don’t believe that for a minute. I don’t like you being alone with him in his apartment.” He paused. “And he’s not the only guy I’m worried about.”

“Thomas?” At home I couldn’t even get one guy interested in me. I couldn’t believe I had
two
here.

His eyes darkened. “Just be careful.”

“Yeah . . . okay.”

He let the subject drop, and we finished our food as we wandered around the neighborhood. I was surprised how comfortable I was becoming here.

Eric stopped outside the apartment building door. “Oh, one more thing. I told Dane to leave you alone. If he doesn’t, let me know.”

An uncharacteristic rush of affection for my brother washed through me. “Thanks.”

He nodded and we went upstairs.

An hour later, we took the subway to the
Opéra
exit. Marine, Julien, Thomas, and Sarah were already waiting for us. I couldn’t help noticing that Mathieu wasn’t with them, and apparently Camille did as well. I heard her say his name when she addressed them in French.

She didn’t like their answer, and neither did Dane.

“What did they say?” I asked Eric.

“I couldn’t make it all, but it sounds like Camille specifically asked Mathieu to come and he passed.”

“Why would she ask him to come?”

Thomas was edging over to me, and Eric was too busy giving him the stink eye to answer.

“
Bonjour
, Sophie.”

I smiled when I heard him pronounce my name with an accent. “
Bonjour,
Thomas.”

He looked surprised by my attempt at French.

Eric bought our tickets, and then we went inside, skipping the concessions. I studied the French title, trying to translate it in my head, but one morning of French lessons hadn’t helped me master the language.

The theater was mostly empty, so I wasn’t surprised when Thomas sat next to me. Eric gave him another dirty look, but he was distracted from his plan of intimidation when Marine sat next to him.

“Have you been studying French, Sophie?” Thomas asked, leaning close to me.