I grinned and did another fist pump.
When the phone beeped again, he squinted at it. “It says,Maybe early June?”
“Tell her yes.”
He typed three letters, then looked at me. “Send?”
I shook my head. “Add a smiley face. The kind with hearts for eyes.”
His expression said that was beneath his dignity.
I pointed firmly at the phone. “Do it. We could wait years for an electrician if this doesn’t come through.”
He grimaced and hit a few keys. I swear, the man would have been more comfortable firing off live weapons than a few emojis.
“Okay?” He held out my phone.
I glanced at the screen, then nodded. “Perfect. Send it.”
My mood soared…for about thirty seconds. Then the car coughed and sputtered. I’d barely coasted to the side of the road before the engine died completely.
I cursed, trying to restart it. No go.
Roux leaned over to the peer at the instruments. And, oh. He smelled nice, even after a long day of train rides and traipsing around Paris.
“Lights. Many lights. But not a single red one,” I pointed out defensively.
He muttered, exited the car, and motioned for me to release the hood. I did, then joined him.
Give me a theater stage to design, and I could do it — from an underwater set forThe Little Mermaidto outer space for an adaptation ofThe Magic School Bus. Making sense of a car engine, on the other hand…
Roux poked around while I held my phone light. Then he pulled out a rubbery thing.
“Snapped fan belt. When was the last time you had this thing inspected?”
Probably during Jacques Chirac’s presidency, but I didn’t volunteer that. I just shrugged. “Can you fix it?”
“If I had tools and a replacement belt.”
I gave his cargo pockets a significant look.
“But I don’t,” he grumbled.
“Pity.” I grabbed my things, zipped my jacket, and set out for home, less than a mile away.
Roux muttered and joined me.
My breath showed in the dim light of the quarter moon, and my shoes crunched over dry leaves. My ears were freezing. Still, it was invigorating in other ways. Pleasant, even. Especially when I turned the corner to the long drive to the château and spotted lights at the end of the tree tunnel.
My heart warmed. The château called to me, as it always had. I could be blindfolded and turned until I was dizzy, and I would still be able to find the place.
I smiled. Soon, I would be home with a warm mug of tea and the delicious meal Madame Picard had left for us. In the meantime, I would take this as a sign to get out more often to enjoy the crisp, quiet nights.
Too quiet,hard-wired instinct warned.
I shook off the feeling. No need to get creeped out. Bad things happened in big cities, not out in the countryside.
Still, I walked a little faster, focusing on the château lights.
