After giving their orders, they handed their menus back to the waiter.
‘So tomorrow. You have a meeting at nine-thirty to buy this press.’
‘Yes.’ Luc leaned forward. She could almost see the excitement fizzing from him. ‘It’s the first step for the winery and it’s very exciting.’ He began to explain why the press was so important and then he got his phone out. ‘Look.’ He showed her a picture. ‘It’s a pneumatic lateral membrane press, it’s completely automated.’
‘So it is,’ she said deadpan, studying the picture of a big shiny stainless-steel cylinder on a metal box frame.
‘Ah, but…’ He launched into an enthusiastic explanation about ‘vertical juice channels’, ‘a pressure of less than zero point eight bar’ and ‘reduced pressing times’.
Hattie listened as he then began to expound his plans for St Martin champagne production. His face shone with enthusiasm and even though she maybe had no right to, she felt proud of him, for that single-minded determination and focus. She took his hand and squeezed, not wanting to stop him. Although she only understood a fraction of what he was talking about, just being in the presence of his energy and passion made her feel as if she were stepping into and sharing a beam of sunlight. It was energising and infectious, making her think about what she wanted to do and how she was going to expand on what she’d started. She had no doubt that wedding and event planning was for her. Being at the château had reinforced that and she was proud of what she’d achieved so far, even if it had been a bit rocky along the way. The real fun and games would start when the wedding guests began to arrive but she was looking forward to that. The hard slog was pretty much done now.
‘It’s going to … I’m so sorry, Hattie.’
‘It’s fine. It was interesting.’
He raised sceptical eyebrows. ‘I think not.’
‘No, it was.’ She smiled at him, although inside she was struck by a pang of envy and regret. She probably wouldn’t ever see his first bottle of St Martin champagne. By the time production was underway she’d be back in England, living who knew where. The thought depressed her and she took a fortifying sip of wine.
Hattie couldn’t believe how easily she and Luc had fallen into sync with each other. There was no awkwardness as they shared the bathroom in the morning or moved around each other in the well-stocked apartment kitchen, making coffee and heating croissants from the freezer, lounging together on the sofa in thick fluffy robes discussing the forthcoming day.
Luc’s phone beeped and when he checked the message he scowled.
‘Great. My father wants to see me this morning before my meeting with the equipment people. How the hell does he know I’m in Paris?’
He rose regretfully. ‘I’m going to have to leave sooner than I planned. Will you be all right finding Nina’s?’
‘Yes,’ she said firmly, tapping her phone. ‘I have the directions right here and I’m a big girl.’
‘Okay, have fun shopping and give her my love.’
It was that simple, she thought. Being a grown-up and an independent adult, one half of a couple. Talk about refreshing. Chris would have cross-examined, worried and checked and double-checked that she knew where she was going. That she’d be all right. That she’d be safe. And insist on her texting him when she arrived. Luc merely nodded and said, ‘Okay, I’ll see you there for lunch.’
‘Yes. I hope your meeting goes well and you buy your big shiny new toy,’ she teased.
He grinned at her and went off to get dressed. When he returned in a smart navy suit with a pale blue shirt she wondered for a moment how she was going to let him out of the door.
‘You look…’ Her heart jumped up into her throat and she stared at him, sucker-punched by a sudden overwhelming flood of love for him. She made an involuntary sound that caught his attention.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Mm. Fine,’ she said, horrified by the strength of that rush. This wasn’t supposed to happen. To steady herself, she put her hands on his broad shoulders, her fingers spreading out on the soft crisp wool of his suit jacket and pecked him on the cheek. ‘Good luck.’ She backed off. ‘I’d better dress. Have a shower.’ She scuttled towards the bathroom and, once in there, shut the door and leaned against it, throwing her head back.
She’d only gone and fallen in love with him.
Grinning to himself, Luc walked down the street wondering at the summons from his father, though it couldn’t dim his happiness. Spending time with Hattie just brought sunshine into his soul. He could have done without this meeting today but he knew from experience it was easier to talk to his father face to face. Since he was relying on him to hand over the rental from the château to pay for the press, it was a small price to pay, especially as he was now in the driving seat.
He had made it quite clear to his father that he would no longer work for the family business and if he hadn’t been allowed to take on St Martin, he would have joined another company. He’d been headhunted enough times to know that he could pick and choose his jobs, a fact his father was well aware of. It was a useful bargaining chip.
When he walked into the foyer of the Brémont building the doorman recognised him immediately and waved him through the security barriers. His father’s secretary, Caroline, was sitting outside his office, her blonde chignon and perennially pleasant smile in place. She was the most unflappable person he’d ever met and also the most discreet.
‘Luc,’ she greeted him. ‘How lovely to see you. We’ve missed you. It isn’t the same around here without you but –’ she lowered her voice, glancing towards his father’s door ‘– I’m so glad you are doing your own thing. How is it going? How is Marthe? I bet she’s thrilled with what you’re doing.’
‘Thanks, Caroline. I’m not sure thrilled is quite the word. She’s worried I’m going to go all modern on her, I think. But it’s going well. Although there’s still a lot to do before we make our first vintage.’
‘I’ll let Monsieur Brémont know you’re here.’
Five minutes later she motioned for him to go in.
