Paris Summer (18 page)

Really! The nerve Sandy had. How could she have
been so blind? Helene was right about one thing-he
was like Phil. Maybe it was a good thing that had ended
so quickly. Janine’s trouble was that she was in love
with the idea of being in love. Well, no more. Janine
could stand being on her own for a while with no men
to complicate her life. Give her a nice, peaceful
brother/sister relationship with someone like Mark
any day! Or someone like Jacques, for that matter.

A warm shower relaxed Janine as the tea had failed
to do. If she had had a better voice, Janine might have
started singing. But, all things considered, she wouldn’t
inflict that on the neighbors. Janine was still soapy
when the phone rang. And rang. And rang. “Oh, no!”
Janine muttered, shutting off the water and grabbing a towel. “If that’s Sandy calling to say he’ll be early…”

But the phone stopped ringing before Janine could
get to it. “Darn it!” she said, dripping on the bedroom
floor. Then she shrugged. “Probably a wrong number.
I’m getting a little tired of those.”

Her mood spoiled, Janine finished her shower
quickly. She took unusual care with her makeup, but
still was ready well ahead of time. She surveyed herself
in the mirror, pleased with what she saw. Her dress was
a simple yellow halter top that was gathered slightly
above the waist, then flowed to the floor. The coloring
was perfect with her tanned shoulders and sunlightened hair. Almost dry now, her hair was curling of
its own accord. And Janine’s Italian sandals completed
the effect one of innocence. It suited her perfectly.
Sandy should be pleased, she thought. It was the way
he said he liked her to look. Half an hour to wait.
Janine curled up on the daybed with a magazine that
Rena had left lying around.

She was in the middle of an article when the doorbell
rang. Janine jumped, startled, and felt her heartbeat
speeding up. She forced herself to walk slowly to the
door, trying to calm down. Sandy was wearing a
beautiful velvet blazer over a turtleneck. But Janine did
not notice. Her attention was on the armful of flowers
he carried. Roses. Long stemmed. She stared, openmouthed, as he handed them to her. “S-Sandy,” she
stammered.

He eased himself into the apartment, forcing her to
back into the living room. “A memento of all the
beautiful times we’ve had and will have,” he said
earnestly.

Janine glanced at him and quickly glanced away.
His eyes were watching her. When he laughed, the face was boyish, but when he was serious the face could be
dangerously handsome as it was tonight. To cover her
confusion, Janine filled a vase and began clipping the
roses to prepare them for water. Sandy waited
patiently as she worked. Twenty roses. Twenty! They
filled one vase and threatened to overflow a second.
The scent of roses began to pervade the room. Sandy’s
first words when she finished startled Janine. “Don’t
you have anything else to wear, kitten?”

Janine shook her head helplessly, feeling cold. He
sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care how you look.
Maybe sometime I can go shopping with you.”

Janine felt her confidence ebb. It was the gentle
kindness in his voice that hurt the most. Sandy stroked
her hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you, kitten. You look
fine. Get a wrap and let’s go. Honestly, you look
lovely.”

Feeling on the verge of tears, Janine fled to the
bedroom. She stared in the mirror. Sandy was right, of
course. She would look out of place no matter where he
took her. Miserably, she borrowed an embroidered
shawl from Rena. It was the best she could do. “Pull
yourself together!” Janine commanded herself softly.
“You can’t collapse now. Okay, so you don’t know how
to dress. Maybe it will help when you tell him you don’t
want to marry him. He’ll realize you don’t belong in his
world. And remember…no matter what happens,
you’ve got to tell him tonight. Otherwise you’re not
being fair.”

Somewhat more composed, Janine rejoined Sandy.
At least her Florentine evening bag couldn’t disgrace
her. “Shall we go?” she said lightly.

Sandy smiled. “The Magic Carpet awaits.”

Momentarily irritated by Sandy’s choice of words, Janine led the way out of the apartment and then
locked the door. One flight down, she heard, or
thought she heard, the telephone start ringing. “I think
it’s mine. I’d better go back and answer it,” she said.

“Now, Jenny,” Sandy said patiently, “how do you
know it’s your phone? And even if it is, how do you
know it’s not a wrong number? How many people in
Paris want to call you? Besides, it would probably stop
ringing before you got there to answer.”

“I guess you’re right,” Janine said uncertainly.

“Good. Let’s go,” Sandy said and started down the
stairs.

The telephone was still ringing as they left the
building, but Janine no longer heard it. Sandy had
borrowed Alan’s car for the evening. As he drove, he
refused to explain where they were going. “It’s a
surprise,” he said.

Janine, therefore, was totally unprepared when she
saw the name Maxim. She turned to Sandy to protest
but he forestalled her. “No objections. You promised.”

Janine nodded, rather embarrassed. No wonder
Sandy had been so disappointed in the way she was
dressed! They were seated quickly, though not before
one or two people stared at them. With a sinking
feeling, Janine noticed their smiles.

The food was excellent. Well worth the three stars
awarded by the Michelin guidebook. The champagne
Sandy chose was heady and Janine lost track of how
often he filled her glass-particularly since he never
waited until it was empty before he refilled it. Nor did
Janine notice how little Sandy drank. But she did have
sense enough to stop as soon as she felt her head
growing light. From then on she sipped the wine
slowly, at well-spaced intervals. If Sandy was trying to get her drunk, he would be in for a surprise, she
thought.

They talked about all sorts of things, none of them
important. Sandy had forbidden the topic of travel or
marriage during dinner. He talked quite knowledgeably about politics and Paris and children. Especially
children. He had young cousins, three, five, and six
years of age, whom he said he adored. But perhaps
Jenny preferred babies? And pets. Sandy had always
wanted a dog, preferably a collie like the one Jenny had
had as a little girl. They talked over coffee, then over
brandy. Perhaps it was the champagne, perhaps it was
the lack of confusion about her feelings, but Janine felt
completely at ease with Sandy. It was too bad she was
going to have to upset him. But then, perhaps he
wouldn’t be so upset after all.

At last Sandy decided it was time to leave. He paid
the bill casually though the amount made Janine
flinch. She could have eaten for a month on what he
had just paid for dinner for the two of them.

Even in the car Sandy refused to let their talk drift to
serious subjects. And Janine was in no hurry to spoil
his mood. He drove along the Seine, then back to St.
Germain des Pres. He parked in the square by the
church and said gently, “I think it had better be an early
evening for you. You look tired.”

“I am… a little,” she admitted hesitantly.

Sandy kissed her in his usual expert way. “So then,”
he said as he still held her, “I’ll go tomorrow and get our
tickets. We’ll leave for Switzerland on Friday.”

Janine pulled away and sat up sharply. She felt as if
she had just been slapped. “What did you say?”

“I’ll get our tickets tomorrow for the trip,” Sandy
repeated blandly.

“I told you. I’m not going with you,” Janine said
quietly.

“You’re coming with me,” Sandy said coolly, “or our
engagement is off.”

“You’re darn right it’s off!” Janine snapped. “There
never was one.

Sandy sighed and said patiently, “You don’t mean
that. You’re just angry because I’m making all the
decisions. But honestly, someone has to do it. You keep
changing your mind.”

Janine stared at him without speaking. Sandy
shrugged and looked out the other window. With an air
of resignation he asked, “What’s the matter? Did your
mother or Helene tell you it’s not proper for you to
travel alone with me? Or to become engaged so
quickly?”

“Sandy, don’t make poor jokes.”

“Look …what am I supposed to think?” he
demanded. “Suddenly you up and tell me you’re not
interested in me and you won’t travel with me. Maybe
you’ve decided you’re too good for me?”

Janine flinched. “Not too good…just not right.”

“Oh? And who would be right for you?”

It was Janine’s turn to look away. “Someone who
likes music and books and museums. Someone who
sees women as people, not as dolls. Someone who cares
more about people than how much money they have.”

“Oh? Maybe you’d like a mirror image of yourself?”
Sandy asked sarcastically. “That won’t last. And where
do you expect to find this paragon? And if you do, how
do you expect to get his attention? With your looks and
the way you dress…”

“I’m not worried about it,” Janine said truthfully.

“Maybe you’ve already got someone in mind?” Sandy demanded. “Mark? Jacques? Has one of them
been pretending to be in love with you? And I bet you
fell for it. Jacques would figure you’re an easy date
since you’re American and you wouldn’t see through
his phony French manners. Or is it Mark? He’d think it
was hysterical to seduce his fiancee’s sister.”

“Stop it!” Janine shouted. “You don’t know what
you’re talking about.”

“Oh don’t I, kitten? One thing’s sure-you wouldn’t
have come to this decision by yourself. You know, I bet
it’s Mark. Of course! You’ve been seeing him every
Sunday. Wait until I get to Switzerland and tell Rena
her boy friend is chasing you!”

“Rena asked Mark to look after me,” Janine said
stiffly.

“He’s doing that, all right!” Sandy snickered. “Just
wait until I see Rena. What a .joke!”

“Don’t you dare say a word to Rena!” Janine said
angrily.

“Frankly, you haven’t anything to say about what I
do,” Sandy said coolly. “Since you’ve made it clear you
don’t want to have anything to do with me, why should
I be considerate? Or have you changed your mind?”

Without a word, Janine opened the door and got out
of the car. She closed the door firmly but without
slamming it and, keeping her back straight, started to
walk away. She forced herself not to hurry. One block,
two, the building was finally in sight. Now the stairs,
head up, back stiff. She fumbled for her keys, found
them, and quickly shut the door behind her. The scent
of roses reached Janine and leaning against the door
she began to cry.

She stopped crying abruptly as she heard a sound in
the other room. “Rena?” she called tentatively. No answer. The apartment was dark. Panic gripped
Janine. She could hear someone moving toward her.
The light snapped on. “Mark!”

They stared at each other. Mark noted Janine’s wet
cheeks. Pressing her back harder against the door,
Janine quavered, “W-What are you doing here?”

“When you didn’t stop by my office I tried calling
you. I couldn’t get an answer. Then, on an off chance, I
called Alan. He told me you and Sandy had had a fight.
I had a hunch you might need someone to talk to.”

All the tears Janine had been trying to restrain
started flowing. The next moment she found herself in
Mark’s arms. He waited a moment, then led her to the
daybed. He cradled her head on his shoulder and
stroked her hair.

Later, Janine had no idea when, a box of tissues
suddenly appeared. Finally she pulled herself together.
She looked at Mark uncertainly. She was afraid of
what he might be thinking. Gently he asked, “Do you
want to talk about it? It might help.”

Trying hard to keep her voice from cracking, Janine
outlined the events of the day. Once or twice Mark
muttered something, but she could not tell what he
said. As she finished her confused account, Janine
realized she was again leaning against Mark’s shoulder.
Forcing herself to sit upright, Janine asked in a more
normal voice, “But why are you here? It’s not your
problem.”

Mark glanced away. “Rena asked me to keep an eye
on you, remember?” he said in a light voice.

“Oh, no!” Janine exclaimed, the tears threatening to
overwhelm her again. “I forgot! Sandy says he’s going to see Rena and tell her you… you’re …I mean…”

“That I’m after you?” Mark probed gently. When
she nodded he laughed. “Don’t worry. Rena won’t
believe it. You know she’s incapable of believing you
could take any man away from her.”

Somehow, this statement was not as comforting as it
should have been. Janine felt like crying again. Mark
waited patiently, but she couldn’t explain. The flowers
caught her eye. She waved a hand at them helplessly.
“Sandy brought me these today. For a while he was so
nice. Then …now…I almost feel like a heel.”

Mark, when he finally answered, said dryly, “That’s
how he meant you to feel. Has he ever bought you
flowers before? I thought not. Listen to me, Janine. It
was all a carefully calculated plan to make you feel
guilty, to make you feel you couldn’t refuse him. But
you did. And Sandy, being Sandy, couldn’t stand that.
He had to tear you down, work on your lack of selfconfidence. Or maybe he’s stupid enough to believe
what he said. But he’s wrong, Janine. There is nothing
wrong with you. Not with the way you look, not with
the way you dress. Don’t you know…”

He stopped abruptly and released her. He got up and
walked over to the roses. His back to Janine and his
voice casual, Mark said, “Don’t let Sandy get to you.
Enjoy the flowers. As for feeling guilty… that’s
absurd. Maybe you hurt his pride, but nothing more.”

“Are you trying to say he never cared for me at all?”
Janine demanded. “I don’t believe it!”

Mark ran his hand through his hair. He sounded
frustrated. “Yes and no. I mean, I think he cared for
you as much as he’s capable of caring for anyone. But you see, I don’t think that means very much. Sandy is
totally wrapped up in himself. He wants a wife but not
really a woman.”