“Oui.”
“Gustave….”
“I know, I know.” I lean my forehead against hers. “My world sucks, and you don’t like it.”
She hugs me close. “Say you’ll come back to me.”
“Mon amour, I can’t breathe without you.”
But she knows, as I do, that our way of living is not sustainable.
I can’t continue to stay in a hotel suite.
Aubert is finishing his internship soon and will return to Paris.
Getting my visa situation sorted out, regardless of my wealth, will take the time it takes.
But I can’t ask her to move to Paris, not when I’ve seen her family and how happy she’s here.
“Then go handle things, as fast as you can, and come back to me.”
My throat tightens. “Tara?—”
She reaches for me, her fingers threading through mine. “I love you.”
I kiss her forehead, breathing her in. “Je t’aime.”
“I know.” Her smile is soft and sure. “Go fix your empire.”
She comes to the Ritz with me that night, we make love, and after she falls asleep, I go into Aubert’s room.
He’s wearing his headphones, and his laptop is open. He’s tapping furiously at the keyboard.
He’s surrounded by the chaotic order of youth—half-finished fries on a plate, a camera, a pair of Lakers tickets on his desk next to his press badge.
He looks up when I knock on the doorframe.
He pulls off his headphones. “How is she?”
Earlier, we’d told him that I’m leaving Los Angeles in a couple of days. Tara’s eyes had shimmered with unshed tears, her mood muted to gray.
I step inside, hands in my pockets. “Sleeping—finally.”
After making love. After crying.
A breath escapes me. “I’m going to miss her.” I glance toward the closed door of my bedroom. “She’s going to miss me.”
He exhales long and slow. “You both need to find a happy medium that works for both of you.”
“Oui. I know.”
He reclines back in his chair, studying me. “You’ll fix it. You always do. And you and Tara are an awesome team, Papa.”
I smile at that, the quiet faith of a son who’s seen me stumble and still believes.
“I will…we will,” I say. Then, after a moment, “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
He raises a brow. “Should I be worried?”
