Paris Was The Place I Met My Billionaire Lover (My Sweet Billionaire Love Story Series) (8 page)

Will I?

Should I? 

That would be the just thing to do, the right thing to do, just like Dad has always trying to teach me.  Aren’t those worthy things?  Did I ever really learn the difference between right and wrong, valuing the truth, or did I just pay lip-service to those concepts in order to get by?  I lied to Dad about Jennifer and taking the trip, after all; then turned my back on him like a spoiled, stubborn child.

Well, true character comes out in times of trial and this is one of those,
Caitlyn realized. 
No matter how much of a punk that second young Frenchman is, he doesn’t deserve to be sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit.

Even if he probably won’t be sent to prison anyway,
Caitlyn had to remind herself. 
With Julien the only witness, the whole matter will just blow over.  As long as I can keep my stupid mouth shut.

Then what about justice for the young man who Julien killed and left in a heap on the sidewalk?

You mean the one who was going to gut you like a fish, or worse?
Caitlyn had to argue. 
It was self-defense, the kid got what he deserved.  Does Julien have to be punished for having done the right thing, for saving my life?  Talk about no good deed going unpunished!  Why not just let it go?

What if Julien won’t let it go?
Caitlyn had to ask herself in return.
  What if he’s out there now, waiting for me to show myself so he can silence me once and for all?

Oh please, the drama queen is at it again.

Drama queen?
Caitlyn had to contradict in her own defense.
He killed that guy right in front of me!

Then don’t pull a knife on him and you’ll be fine.  Go down, have a drink.  I think being cooped up in this room is making us both a little nuts.

The cafes all began to look the same, small and filled with people standing at the bars, smoking and bickering.  Caitlyn found one spot that was not too crowded, walking up to the bar to order a drink.

Instead, her attention was drawn to a television hanging from the wall behind the bartender.  It was a news broadcast, and a picture of Julien Cherierre was featured in the graphic window to the right of the news anchor.

Caitlyn was transfixed, but the broadcast was in French and there were no English subtitles.  Caitlyn turned to the guy standing next to her, a pudgy fellow with thinning air and a musty odor.

Caitlyn said, “Excuse me, do you speak English?”

He nodded with an eager grin, looking her over.  “Very well, in fact,” he said with a British accent.  “My name is Herbert, and -- ”

“Great,” Caitlyn interrupted.  “Can you translate that news for me, from the television?” 

The pudgy Herbert turned and looked up at the TV just as the anchor was replaced by a report from the field, a hand-held news camera locking on a Gendarme outside of a police station.  Still-picture cameras flashed and clicked around him as he answered the reporter’s questions, all in French.

Herbert leaned over to Caitlyn even as his attention remained on the TV set.  “The
Gendarme
says they have a man in custody, formerly a well-known art thief named Cherierre.  The man has confessed to a murder of some sort...”  Herbert paused to listen to the TV, then added, “A killing, the
Gendarme
says, which he claims was self-defense.  Although he is not a wanted criminal, his history makes him a person of interest and, pending any new information, he is being detained by authorities.”

Caitlyn stepped away, her mouth suddenly dry. 

“Hey, where you runnin’ off to then?” Herbert asked as Caitlyn backed out of the bar and stepped into the sidewalk, almost in a daze.  

He did it,
Caitlyn realized,
he turned himself in for me.  He could have walked away Scott free, faded back into his life and been perfectly happy.  But he’s sacrificed it all to prove himself to me.

He’s no murderer, hunting me in the night.  He is what he claimed; and I am a selfish fool.

Now there’s no question,
Caitlyn knew. 
I have to go to the Gendarmes, explain what happened; no matter how complicated it gets for me.  I can’t let Julien throw his life away because of me.

The nearest officer wasn’t hard to find, and he was more than interested in what Caitlyn had to say.

* * *

It took hours of explaining it over and over again, each
Gendarme
bringing in their superior to hear the story again.  After a while, Caitlyn became convinced they just wanted to hear the story, be part of the high-profile case, even in passing.  More likely, she knew. Nobody wanted to be the one to set the great Julien Cherierre loose in case he really was guilty.  As Caitlyn came to realize, he was at one time one of the most wanted men in all of France, and although there were no current charges against him, to capture him on any significant charge would be a real coup for some lucky
Gendarme
.  The fact that the charge was murder made it an even more tempting prize.

But involving some female American student didn’t make things any easier for the police and they knew it.  And Caitlyn knew it too.  Beyond that, there was the simple truth that Julien hadn’t done anything wrong at all, and in fact he was a hero for saving her life.  Unless they were interested in being the subject of a story about how they wrongfully imprisoned a true-life French Batman, in addition to the other heroic icons he’d assumed over his lifetime, the
Gendarmes
had time to reconsider her testimony as clearing up the matter entirely and seeing fit to drop the charges, cutting their loses and considering the case closed.

Stepping out of the station house, Caitlyn and Julien were greeted by a mob of reporters, with video camera crews, mics lurching up at them on boom stands,  cameras flashing.  It had already become common knowledge among the reporters that Caitlyn was American, so they asked her questions in English.

“Are you two in love?  How long have you been lovers?”

“Miss Haliwell was a witness to the assault and she spoke up on my behalf,” Julien told the reporters.  “For that I will forever be grateful.  But there is no more to our relationship than that.”

Among the astounded murmuring, another reporter asked, “
Monsieur Cherierre
, why didn’t you mention her to
Gendarmes
originally?”

“My discussions with the authorities remain private,” Julien said.

“
Gendarmes
say you came to them voluntarily, Miss Haliwell.  What took you so long?”

“Listen,” Caitlyn said to them, “what matters here is that a brave man stepped forward to defend somebody he hardly new, putting his own life and liberty at risk.  As soon as I realized he’d come into some trouble over the matter, I stepped in to do what I could.  It was the least I could do.”

More clamoring, more muttering, more camera bulbs flashing.  “What are your plans now?” one asked them, sticking his camera into Caitlyn’s face. “Do you plan to return to the United States?”

The hum of anticipation hovered above the crowd as Julien and Caitlyn shared the moment of indecision.  “I’m not sure,” Caitlyn struggled to confess, “I don’t know.  That’s none of your business anyway.  I don’t want to answer any more questions.  Thank you.”

“That’s all then,” Julien said, waving them off as he pushed their way through the crowd.  But he couldn’t stop the flood of questions or the steely eyes of the cameras:

“Do you plan to be married?”

“Are you determined to stay on the right side of the law, M. Cherierre?”

“What does your family make of all this, Miss Haliwell?”

* * *

Back in Los Angeles, Harrison Haliwell was fuming.  Watching the TV in the family room, he could barely stay in his chair, getting up to pace and wave and gesticulate while he replayed the DVR’d news broadcast over and over again.

He froze the screen with the little digital beep, Caitlyn’s face frozen on the TV.

“A murder!” Harrison said, not for the first time that night, that hour, or even in that five-minute block of time.  “And how could she not come to me, a lawyer!  I knew something like this would happen.”

“You remember what the doctor said, Harrison.  Please sit down.”

“Don’t you tell me to sit down!”

“I didn’t tell you, I
asked
you.”  Her voice assumed his contagious rage, but she calmed it quickly.  “You’re gonna give yourself an ulcer, Harrison.” 

“You talked me off the ledge last time and look what happened!”

Sabrina looked at him coolly.  “You’re not blaming me for this?”

Harrison stopped, catching a glimpse of himself from her perspective and not liking what he was seeing.  But he was also unable to stop it. “I’m not blaming you, Sabrina, of course not.”

“And you’re a lawyer, Harrison, you know the difference between a murder and a -- ”

“Don’t presume to lecture me on the fine points of the law, Sabrina.  If anyone’s to blame, it’s me, for not forcing her to come back two days ago when I had her on the telephone.”

“How were you going to do that?  Harrison, she’s an adult, you have to let her live her own life.”

Harrison spun angrily, pointing an angry finger at the window.  “The hell I do!  I can go out there right now, get on a plane, find this murdering French son-of-a-bitch and bring our little girl back home!”

“Harrison, listen to me.  When I was Caitlyn’s age, I wanted to climb into a VW minivan and see the country, write poetry and meditate.”

“You’re not suggesting this as an example of what you’d rather have our daughter be wasting her life on?”

“Actually, I spent three years in that bus, sold thousands of copies of my poetry collection, met the Eagles and ex-president Jimmy Carter, won two literary prizes and went on to get my masters in modern literature.”

Harrison couldn’t deny or avoid the memories that slid up beside him; Sabrina as a younger woman, hip and intelligent, sexy and adventurous.  She was flirty and fun, injecting a much-needed kick of life into his conservative regiment.  She was quite unlike anything in his button-down work-a-day world, and he loved her for it.  He’d been wildly attracted to her and still was.  He was in love with her then, still was and always would be.  There was no arguing any of that.

Harrison let his tired hands drop exhausted to his side.  “But even you would have to admit you had a lot of luck on your side.  Not saying you didn’t have talent, I know you did and still do, but... you’d still have to admit...”

“And I do admit it,” Sabrina said with a patient nod, “and you’re right, I’m not suggesting it as a career path for her or for anyone.  I’m just saying that one never knows how life is going to turn out; it’s not always for the worse.”

“Not always,” Harrison said, looking around for his brandy snifter.  “I always said,
Hope for the best but
-- ”

“
Prepare for the worst
,” Sabrina said, nodding as she finished his thought and sentence.  “I know.  And you’ve prepared the best you can for the worst.  Now maybe it’s time you started hoping for the best.”

The phone rang, silence filling the space just occupied by Harrison’s bellowing.  The second ring prompted Harrison’s feet into action, and Sabrina was handing him the phone by the third ring.

“Harrison Haliwell.”

“Dad, it’s me.”

* * *

He sounded frantic.  “Caitlyn, sweetheart, are you all right?  What have they done to you?”

“I’m fine, Dad, honestly, everything is all right.  I guess by this time you’ve seen the news.”

“Good guess.  What the hell is going on over there, what have you gotten yourself into?”  Without waiting for an answer, Harrison said, “Never mind, it doesn’t matter anyway.  Sweetheart, you gotta let me come and get you outta there.”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, Julien’s driver gazing at her through the rearview mirror.  “Everything is okay, that’s what I’m calling to tell you.”

“Are you still with him?  Is he there now?  Put him on this Goddamned phone right now, Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn looked at the passenger seat next to her; Julien sat expectantly.

“Now you listen to me, Dad, I’m the one who placed this call and I’m the one who’ll be taking it.  I didn’t want you to worry so I’m calling to tell you I’m fine.  I’m not sure what I’ll be doing next, but when I do know I will let you know, I promise.”

“Not good enough,” Harrison said. 

“And by the way, you’re wrong, Dad.  It does matter, it matters very, very much.”

“Caitlyn you stop all this girlish pouting and put that cowardly bastard on the phone this instant -- ”

“
Au revoir, Papa
,” Caitlyn said as she ended the call and put the phone back into her purse.

Julien said, “You should have let me speak with him.”

Caitlyn’s expression was unmoving, undaunted.  “It’s a family matter, Julien.”

* * *