Millie's Game Plan (32 page)

Chapter 2

Christophe Dubois made his way through the chattering soirée, and leaned against the balcony balustrade to gaze out at the sun setting behind the Eiffel Tower, blissfully unaware of the future Isabelle was planning for him. She was the sister of his best friend, Xavier, and he had to admit, had blossomed into quite the stunner. He had, however, known her too long and too well to entertain any thoughts of pursuing her for his own pleasure. She was smart, she was funny but far too analytical. Many, long nights they’d spent in their youth, deep in meaningful and mind-bending discussions over life and its pitfalls; the writing of Stephen King; the varied works of Jean Cocteau and whether the human race was destined to fail, because frequent and repeated rebirths had not resulted in the soul progressing to a civilised level. Her belief in reincarnation alone was enough to put him off. There was also something disturbingly autocratic about the way she approached life.

‘Christophe, here is your champagne,’ she began. ‘Wonderful sunset, isn’t it?’

He smiled. ‘Indeed. But you didn’t set up this little chat to discuss the view, did you?’

‘True. I have a favour to ask.’

‘Go on.’

‘Do you remember my English friend, Vicki?’

‘Vaguely. Was she the one who threw up over Xavier at Euro Disney?’

Isabelle’s expression froze, momentarily. ‘Ah, yes. Who could forget?’

‘What about her?’

She smiled and rested a hand on his arm. ‘I’d like you to give her a room in your house, and in exchange she will cook for you.’

‘What?’

‘Can you cook?’

‘I get by. It’s quite easy to eat out, you know.’

‘I know it’s a lot to ask, but it would be so wonderful if you could help out.’

‘Why should I? Can’t she stay with you or Xavier, or even your parents?’

‘Christophe, I live in a one-bedroom apartment in the centre of Paris; Xavier is a nightmare to live with – I wouldn’t wish him on my enemy never mind my friend; as for my parents…not for a whole year. It wouldn’t be kind.’

‘To them or her?’

‘To her.’

‘Why me?’

Isabelle rolled her eyes. ‘To be honest, I’m desperate. I had a friend in Normandy lined up, but she lost her job and is having to downsize. Then I tried my cousin in le Puy but the house is being refurbished from top to bottom. And nobody on the company network showed any interest. You’re my last hope.’ Her hand on his arm was surprisingly tense.

‘So, what’s she running away from?’

‘Huh?’

‘The police must be on her tail for you to be so keen to sort this out. She’s not in trouble is she?’

‘Don’t be silly. I don’t have friends like that. She’s an artist – a brilliant artist. She’s given up her job to take a sabbatical and paint. She feels it’s her last chance to succeed at something she dearly wants to do. I told her I could find her somewhere, easily. Unfortunately, she’s out of work and soon she’ll be homeless. If I don’t sort something out, and fast, I will have blown her dream right out of the water.’ Isabelle was giving him her most beseeching expression.

‘So, it’s you I’m getting out of a fix as much as your friend.’

‘God, yes.
I practically talked her into it. If I fail her now I’ll feel guilty for ever.’

Christophe knew when he was being played. ‘I doubt it,’ he smiled. ‘But I daresay you’ll make me feel guilty for ever, if I refuse.’

Isabelle moved closer. ‘You’re a philanthropic man, Christophe. I’m just asking you to be charitable to another human being, instead of all those horses you lavish your funds and attention on.’

‘Hmmm…What if she’s a pain in the neck?’

‘Vicki? Never. She’s bright and funny and a very good cook. I know you have plenty of room in your house, you need hardly see her, except at meal times. Please say, yes.’

Christophe could see some small advantage in the arrangement. ‘Is she pretty?’

Isabelle’s eyebrows twitched. ‘Very. But don’t you mess with her, Christophe, or I’ll come down and chew your balls off.’

He laughed. That was exactly the reaction he’d expected.

‘So, what do you say?’

‘I’ll only mess with her if she wants to be messed with, how’s that?’

Isabelle’s mouth knotted into a pout. ‘Don’t mess with her. This is my dearest friend, we’re talking about. And one day, she will be godmother to my children. I don’t want to choose who I can invite to their christening, just because you behaved with un-gentlemanly conduct.’

Christophe grinned. ‘Isabelle, I’m always a gentleman.’

‘Just say, yes. Please. You’re my last hope.’

* * *

Vicki’s Work of Heart

Rosie Dean

Out March 2014

www.rosie-dean.com