“I’m honored, Madame Ducharme,” Jean-Luc stammered, at a total loss for words.
“It’sMademoiselle,” she corrected him coquettishly. “But please… call me Colette.” She gracefully smoothed the sides of her impeccable, unwrinkled skirt. “I would also like to commission you to paint my portrait. The keynote work of art for the exhibition.”
In response to the inquisitive lift of his brow, Colette laughed sweetly and replied with an impish smile. “I used to study ballet. I’d like for you to paint me in an elegant, ethereal pose. And entitle the workL’Art de la Danse.The name of this year’s theme.”
Jean-Luc shifted awkwardly under her shrewd, assessing stare. “It would be my pleasure, Madame. Euh… Colette.”
“Excellent,” she cooed with a smug, satisfied grin, retrieving her cellphone from a designer handbag and consulting the calendar. “You must complete the portrait by the third week of August. I’m scheduling a publicity shoot and press conference at the museum on the twenty-eighth, to promote the event and generate interest in the exhibition.” Her eager eyes glinted with glee. “And you, of course—the featured artist——will be interviewed and photographed as a talented painter and flamenco dancer. It will be tremendous publicity for your work. For thisAtelier des Lumières,”she said, gesturing to the studio around them.“And for theTablao Flamenco, where you perform.”Colette leaned forward, piercing Jean-Luc with a penetrating stare. “How soon can you begin my portrait? I’d like to start right away.”
Jean-Luc did a few quick mental calculations. He’d have to work afternoons and weekends…but just for a few weeks. He’d finish Colette’s portrait. Do the press conferences and publicity interviews. And, if all went well, Ella’s application for the extended visa would be approved. She’d be here forla Fête des Vendanges. And share it all with him.
“We could schedule portrait sessions each afternoon, from two to four. And Saturdays from noon to three,” he offered with an encouraging smile.I’ll still have nights and Sundays with Ella. Not as much time as I’d like, but we’ll make it work.
“Perfect. I’ll have mornings for meetings and necessary conferences. And spend afternoons here with you. Let’s begin tomorrow at two.” She tucked her cellphone into the chic black purse on her lap and arose from her chair, signaling her intent to depart. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Jean-Luc. I have the highest expectations for this year’s event.L’Art de la Dansewill be an unprecedented success.”
Jean-Luc rose to his feet and shook Colette’s elegantly extended hand. “Thank you very much for this incredible opportunity. I’m honored beyond measure to be the featured artist.” He escorted the charming curator to the door of his atelier. “I look forward to painting your portrait. And working closely with you forla Fête des Vendanges.” He gallantly opened the door with a chivalrous smile. “Au revoir, Colette. I’ll see you tomorrow at two.”
****
Ella swept into the workshop, thrilled at having found exactly what she needed for an elaborate custom order. As she proudly displayed the exquisite lace and distressed jeans on the table for Jean-Luc to see, she knew that his joyous, effusive exuberance indicated much more than mere interest in her treasured discovery.
He could barely contain his exhilaration. “My landlord Alphonse stopped by today, while you were shopping.” He took hold of Ella’s hands, drawing her attention away from the table and pulling her close. “He introduced me to his guest, Colette Ducharme, the curator of this year’s art exhibition atle Musée de Montmartre.”
Ella absorbed Jean-Luc’s contagious enthusiasm.
“The exhibit will take place in October, duringLa Fête des Vendanges. This year’s theme isL’Art de la Danse,with collections by local artists who portray dance in their work.” Deep voice quavering with emotion, his impassioned eyes transfixed hers. “Colette Ducharme wants me to be the featured artist of the entire event! She invited me to display my paintings of flamenco dancers. She commissioned me to paint her portrait… which will be the keynote piece of the exhibit. She’s arranging interviews, a press conference, a publicity shoot. Ella, it’s the opportunity of a lifetime!” He swept her up into his arms, swirling and twirling in breathless delight, dancing her across the atelier floor.
Setting her gently down, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled Ella snugly against his chest. “I hope your visa is approved, so you’ll be here with me. I want to share it all with you.” Soft, sensuous lips brushed hers. “You’rema rose bohème. Mon coeur. My Muse.”
Ella knew that tonight was Jean-Luc’s turn to sketch onla Place du Tertre. “I’ll fix dinner while you get ready for work,” she said affably, withdrawing from his embrace. As Jean-Luc strode down the hall to assemble his art supplies, Ella went upstairs with a cheerful grin and an upbeat mood.
The following day, Ella worked absentmindedly on her custom order, trying to focus on the fabulous antique lace she’d been so thrilled to find in the vintage shop. But, despite her best efforts to concentrate on her sewing, she kept thinking of Jean-Luc painting Colette Ducharme’s portrait in the studio downstairs. Desperate to catch a glimpse of his all-important client, Ella decided to rearrange the display in the storefront window. That way, when the session ended at four, she’d be able to meet the curator who had made her bohemian artist’s dreams come true.
At the sound of a deep, hearty chuckle and a lovely, lilting laugh, Ella turned toward Jean-Luc and his female companion as they exited his studio and headed toward the door.
Ella’s stomach fell to the floor.
Colette Ducharme was drop dead gorgeous.
Glossy, blue-black hair was styled in a chic, sleek bob. The plunging neckline of her stretchy, amethyst top offered an alluring view of ampledécolletage. Dark designer denim hugged her rounded hips, accentuating her tiny waist. Drawing attention to the voluptuous triangle between her sculpted, sensuous thighs.
An exuberant grin stretched across Jean-Luc’s tanned, handsome face. “Ella, I’d like you to meet Colette Ducharme, the curator of this year’s exhibition forLa Fête des Vendanges.”He smiled magnanimously at his beguiling patron. “Colette, this is Ella Jacobs, an American teacher from Florida. She’s studying art in Montmartre. And creating couture to display in my shop.”
He didn’t introduce me as his girlfriend. Does he want Colette to think I’m just an employee?
“Enchantée,”Colette purred, deigning to offer Ella the tips of her impeccably manicured fingers. Perfunctory politeness complete, she dismissed Ella with disinterest and returned to lavish her attention on a doddering Jean-Luc. “I’m delighted with today’s progress,” she effused, offering him a slim, elegant hand. As he escorted her to the exit and gallantly opened the door, Colette flashed him a blindingly brilliant smile. “Until tomorrow, Jean-Luc.À demain.”
Breath caught in her throat, Ella watched Jean-Luc’s appreciative gaze follow Colette’s perfect ass down the quaint cobbled stone street.
Admiration sparked in his electric eyes. “Her portrait will be perfect.L’Art de la Danse.The keynote piece of the entire exhibit. And the highlight of my career.”
He turned abruptly and dashed up the stairs. “I have to hurry,” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll grab something to eat at thetablao.” A whirlwind of animated enthusiasm, he grabbed his satchel, kissed her brusquely, and disappeared out the door.
Ella tried to dispel her nagging doubts as she diced ham and gratedgruyèrecheese for heromelette au jambon.
Colette Ducharme was a knockout. Ella—with her barely-there breasts and slender hips— couldn’t begin to compare with those voluptuous, dangerous curves. Colette was beautiful, wealthy, powerful, influential… And she could make Jean-Luc a star.
He won’t be able to resist her. With a body like that, how could he? You saw the way he looked at her. He’ll lose interest. Just like Paul. It’s only a matter of time.
