He headed to his study for paper. “Tell you what, cocoa bean.You write that story for Miss Girard, and I’ll take you to the bookstore this weekend.”
“Hooray!”
How could even the high-minded Miss Girard say no to his little scoop of sugar?
11
SATURDAY, MAY3, 1941
Iron. Although the concierge stood several inches shorter than Lucie, Madame Villeneuve had iron at her core, flowing out in her iron-gray hair, molten in her iron-gray eyes. All that iron forged into a dagger of a gaze. “This is unacceptable, Mademoiselle Girard.”
“I’m sorry, madame.” Lucie turned to the bookstore’s office. “Madame Martel? Madame Villeneuve hasn’t received the rent yet.”
From behind the desk, Bernadette set down a book and came to the office door. “I will pay soon.”
“Soon?” The concierge brandished a tiny bludgeon of a fist. “May’s rent is three days late, and you never paid the rest of April’s rent.”
“Soon, madame.” Bernadette stepped back inside the office and closed the door.
Madame Villeneuve’s ire swung back to Lucie. “Every month you pay late. How long must I tolerate this? I should find a new tenant.”
Lucie’s mouth went dry. If she lost the store, Hal and Erma’s dream would die, and Paris would lose one more bit of culture.Lucie would have to go home to New York. But what could she do there? “I—I’ll take care of it, madame. I’ll get the rent to you.”
“See that you do.” With a huff, she stomped out of the store.
A customer stared at the concierge’s turbulent wake, a dark-haired man in a gray suit, holding the hand of a little girl—who beamed at Lucie.
Josie Aubrey. And her father.
Mr. Aubrey faced her, his eyebrows raised under the brim of his fedora.
How dare he come? How dare he use his little girl to prevent Lucie from enforcing her ban? And why did he have to come when she was rattled?
But a ballerina never let it show when she was rattled, so she squatted down and gave the child a genuine smile. “Hello, Josie.”
“Hello, Miss Gee-jard. I brought you something.” Josie wore a dark blue coat and a matching hat, and she clutched a booklet to her chest.
“How sweet of you. Why don’t you sit at my little green table? I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“Okay.” She ran off to the children’s section.
Lucie straightened to standing.
Mr. Aubrey held up one hand. “Please let me explain. You banished me, not Josie. And she’s been begging me every day for weeks. I put her off as long as I could.”
Lucie glanced back to where Josie sat, grinning expectantly, papers in hand. Oh, her heart. The poor little thing shouldn’t suffer because her father was a heel.
“To respect your wishes,” the heel said, “I’ll wait outside.”
Lucie’s eyes slipped shut. How ridiculous her ban sounded. She didn’t screen customers at the door. For heaven’s sake, she sold to enemy soldiers. A sigh leeched out. “You may stay.”
“Thank you.” Why did his voice have to sound so rich andresonant? “You said your store was in the business of enlightening minds. Obviously my mind needs enlightening.”
She faced him and allowed the slightest smile. “I can’t disagree.”
Mr. Aubrey broke into a grin. In her mind she’d painted his eyes a menacing shade of red, but they were the warmest brown. An illusion.
He gestured past her. “If you wait much longer, Josie will bounce right out of her seat.”
