“Ah…I can’t imagine why.” She’s notmyex-wife. If she has something to say, she needs to talk to Gustave.
I try to walk around her, but she blocks my way.
She’s so close, her perfume wraps around me—something expensive and faintly poisonous.
The only way to push her away is to make a scene, which I won’t do.
Absolutely not!
I look around, not for the first time since I met Gustave, to make sure someone with a camera is not around.
“You are clever.” Her smile and demeanor are cold, her voice low. “You’ve managed to insinuate yourself. Into Gustave’s life. Into our circle. Even Aubert is charmed. But let me make this clear for you.” She leans in, her voice a whisper meant only for me. "If you think you can replace me, you are mistaken.”
Her hand brushes my arm, a touch that feels like a threat.
I step away from the contact. “Anything else?”
“Oui. I will make you regret your little overreach.” Then, she smiles widely, the picture of elegance for the passersby. To them, it must look like two friends talking.
I stand frozen on the steps as she glides away, her heels clicking against stone, my pulse hammering in my ears.
The giddiness of love is gone. In its place is a chill that no spring sun can warm.
* Sorry (French)
* Excuse me (French)
CHAPTER 20
Gustave
The photograph is everywhere.
They spread faster than I can breathe—gossip sites, glossy tabloids, even the politics column ofLe Mondethat’s pretending to have gravitas.
The photo is a selfie. She took it that first time she met Aubert.
It’s taken in my living room.
My arm is around her, and Aubert leans in between us, his grin wide as Tara stretches her phone to take the selfie.
So ordinary. So intimate. So ours.
Now dissected by strangers.
Headlines scream across the screen:
De Valois American Mistress Sells Her Story.
Louvre Restorer Cashes In On Her Affair.
Exclusive: Tara Gayarre with Gustave and Aubert de Valois
The articles are venom.
They quotefriends close to the restorer, who claim she bragged about her relationship withle Comteand confided in ajournalist friendabout meeting Aubert. According tosources, Tara sent the photo toFrance Dimancheherself.
The intercom buzzes. “Monsieur de Valois,” my assistant says softly, “Mademoiselle Gayarre is here.”
