“Okay. So you’re not planning on staying faithful to the original?”
“You have no idea how fond I am of staying faithful. But what if it’s possible to be faithful and original at the same time?”
“Right. Sure. Why not?” replied Paul, puzzled.
“So what do you write about?”
“Novels, but that doesn’t stop me from continuing with the day job.”
“Architecture, is that right?”
“Bingo. If not, why else would I be here?” Paul asked, prompting a confused look on Mia’s face. “What did he tell you exactly?”
Mia found herself muttering under her breath.“Referring to himself in the third person! My God, I sure know how to pick them . . .”
“Did you say something? I didn’t quite catch that,” Paul said.
“Oh, nothing, sorry. Bad habit—talking to myself.”
Paul gave her a big grin.
“Can I let you in on a secret?”
“Fire away.”
“I do that too. I mean, at least that’s what they tell me. You know, this is really too much. I’ll be sure to give them a hard time about being so late. I’m just—totally dumbfounded.”
“I know the feeling,” Mia said.
“It’s completely unprofessional. Let me just reiterate that this is not like them at all.”
Mia muttered once more,“And now he’s completely gone off the deep end . . . God, what am I doing here?”
“She’s rambling under her breath. This is awful. I’m going to kill Arthur and chop him up into tiny pieces. Give people an inch, they take a mile. Where the hell are they, damn it?”
“You were just muttering there, yourself,” said Mia.
“I . . . don’t think I was. You were, for sure.”
“Maybe this isn’t such a great idea. Like I said, it’s my first time, and it’s . . . well, it’s even more awkward than I expected.”
“You’re telling me this is your first time in Paris? Your French is impressive—where did you learn it?”
“What? No, that’s not what I meant. This is not my first time in Paris at all. My best friend is French—we’ve known each other since we were kids. She came to stay with my family to learn English, and then I went to Provence to spend my holidays with her family.”
“Ah, so that’s why the food at your restaurant is Provençal?”
“Exactly.”
A silence descended. It only lasted a few minutes, but to them it seemed an eternity. The waitress came back with the menus.
“If they don’t show up soon, we should just order without them,” Paul exclaimed. “It would serve them right.”
“I think I may have lost my appetite,” Mia said, putting the menu back on the table.
“That’s a shame, they make some amazing food here. I’ve read some really great reviews about this place.”
“Right. ‘Baked sea bream infused with exotic herbs,’ like you told me in your message.”
