I wave a hand at a chair, the same one Tara had sat in…a few days…or was it weeks?…ago.
The days are blending into one another, and I’m losing track of time. It is better this way. If I work all the time, I’m tired all the time. And if I’m exhausted, there’s a chance I won’t dream of her.
“What can I do for you, Giselle?”
“Gustave. I owe you an apology.”
I glance at her, keeping my expression flat. “Do you?”
“Yes. I thought Tara was a professional. I can’t believe she did what she did.” Her tone is contrite butcalculated, as if she’s rehearsed the words in front of a mirror.
“What do you think she did?”
Giselle swallows. She didn’t expect me to be this intractable about Tara. But damn if I’m not feeling protective of her. I don’t delve into why that is.
“Well.” Giselle straightens. “She obviously seduced you.”
I let out a harsh laugh. “Giselle, you’ve been trying to get me into your bed for the past two years, and you haven’t succeeded. Do I look like the kind of man who does anything he doesn’t want to do?”
She goes pale. “Gustave?—”
“Is there anything else?” I cut her off. I’m getting a headache—probably due to lack of sleep. The drinking isn’t helping, either.
“Well…what she did, selling that photo and story…we can’t have that. The museum’s board wanted it handled, and I did.”
The back of my neck prickles. “Did what?”
“Well, we fired her.”
It takes me a moment to understand what she’s saying. Until now, I thought of Tara still at the Louvre, not too far away from me.
I didn’t expect this. I should have, though.Imbecile!
“How could you fire her without running it by me?” I lounge back in my chair, keeping my tone casual.
Again, she looks surprised, like she was expecting me to be grateful for her interference.
Where was Tara? Was she still in Paris? Did she leave?Merde!
Giselle let out a long sigh as I was a recalcitrant child. “I know how your family works, Gustave. So, we let her go.AndI also made sure that the museum in Philadelphia knew what she did. The Louvre has a lot of power, and rest assured, she won’t get a job as a restorer anywhere in the world.”
She looks so proud of herself that it disgusts me.
“You blacklisted her.” It wasn’t a question.
Mon dieu! Poor Tara.
She sold you out to the tabloids, Gustave. This is what she deserves.
“Yes. Simone asked that it be done and?—”
What the fuck?
“Simone isn’t paying for the restoration, Giselle, I am,” I snap.
“But it is?—"
“Unacceptable,” I finish, my voice hard as steel.
