‘You’re not angry?’
She shook her head. ‘No, Gus. I’m not angry,’ Hope replied. ‘And I can understand why you have to be very, very careful who you tell. There’s nothing wrong with keeping that close to your chest, but thank you for being honest. I promise your secret is safe with me.’
‘I’ve been here to sell my family’s gin, but also to quietly ask around to see if there is demand for what I’m making. It’s why I was at the bar where we first met,’ he explained. ‘They have quite the clientele there.’
‘And is it? As in demand as you thought it would be?’ she asked. ‘I would have thought it was hugely desired, given how much of it is consumed every night in the city, and not just at that bar.’
Hope could tell from the way his eyes lit up that she was right.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘More than I could ever have imagined, so my problem now is how to make enough without anyone finding out. I was supposed to sell my father’s old distilling equipment, but instead I paid him and pretended I’d found a buyer.’
Hope watched as he turned, as he touched her paintbrushes and stared at her canvases, before moving to the window where she had a small desk and a collection of papers and a notebook. It gave her time to think, time to study him.
‘Hope, in all your years of drawing, have you ever sketched a fairy?’
That was not a question she’d been expecting. ‘A fairy?’ She laughed. ‘Perhaps when I was a little girl dreaming of fairy tales. Why do you ask?’
‘I have to be careful where I sell my absinthe, and I can’t put my name on it, but I want it to be recognisable. I want my customers to know that if they have one of my bottles with a distinctive mark or label, that it’s of the very highest quality. I want them to know it’s mine, even if they never know my name.’
Hope nodded, suddenly understanding. ‘Ah, you want to know if I can create a green fairy for you?’ she asked. ‘You want a design that tells everyone the absinthe is yours, because of the label on the bottle?’
His eyes met hers. ‘Come with me, Hope. You can design the fairy, we can work together, but you don’t have to give up your independence. I won’t ever ask that of you.’ He paused. ‘I know this isn’t how you imagined your life might be, but you can be part of this with me. You can be as involved as you want.’
She swallowed, considering his words, not wanting to make a rash decision even though a voice screamed out to her to take what was on offer. What did she have here, other than her rented room and a job that left her fingers red and raw from all the scrubbing? But this wasn’t just any job; this was an opportunity with a real risk of being caught.
‘I can’t just say yes, Gus. I don’t know anything about absinthe, and I’d be saying yes to…’ She didn’t want to say out loud that it was a criminal activity, even though she knew how unjust the laws were.
‘Just promise me that you’ll think about it,’ he asked, his bright gaze impossible not to become lost in. ‘I know what I’m asking of you, but please just say you’ll consider it.’ Silence stretched between them for a long beat. ‘I don’t want to leave without you.’
Hope closed her eyes, considering what he’d asked her, knowing in her heart the decision she had to make.If I don’t, I’m going to regret this for the rest of my life. There were so many reasons she could say no, but there were just as many telling her why she could say yes.
‘If I do this, if I were to come with you, I need to do more than just the design. I want to work alongside you, I want to learn everything there is to know about the business,’ she said. ‘I needto know that you mean it when you say it’s a real opportunity for me.’
Gus’s smile kicked up the corners of his mouth. ‘If I made you my partner, would you come? I could distil the absinthe, and you could sell it for me, or you could even help me distil it if you were interested. We could work together, and you’ll be perfect at it because you understand my audience. You know all the best places in Paris.’
A darkness spread across his face then, just as she was about to say yes, the word on her lips; to tell him that she’d go with him, heart catching with the thought.
‘But there are risks, Hope. If we’re caught, we could be arrested,’ Gus said. ‘There is a real movement against absinthe. The authorities think it’s responsible for all manner of things, that it can make a person go mad, even though that’s far from the truth. But there would be little I could do to help you if we were both caught.’
‘What would your parents do if they found out? Would they help you if you were arrested?’
The expression on his face told her everything she needed to know before he even spoke.
‘If we were caught, I’d,we’d, be on our own.’
Her heart beat faster, her mouth suddenly dry as she caught Gus’s fingers in hers and stepped closer to him, standing on tiptoe to press her lips to his in a soft kiss. She could see that he was as scared by what he was doing as he was excited.
‘Ifwe’re caught,’ she said.
Hope had come to Paris to find her independence and make her fortune, and so far all she’d done was half-starve herself and work in menial jobs. The only thing she was proud of was her studio, and in just a few short weeks, even that would be gone. What Gus was offering her was an opportunity, and she wanted to take it, risk or not.
‘You’re certain?’ he asked, tilting her chin and staring down at her. ‘We have to keep this a secret, we have to make sure that no one finds out it’s me. If my family ever did find out…’ He blew out a breath.
She knew all about being disowned, and it wasn’t something she’d wish on anyone, least of all Gus. Hope could have asked him why he was risking so much with his bootlegging enterprise, but she didn’t, because she understood what it meant to want to strike out on one’s own; what it was to want a different kind of life.
‘Are you only asking me to join you because of my drawing skills and my connections?’ she asked, teasing him, wanting him to stop thinking about what could go wrong and the parents who might turn their backs on him.
Gus’s fingers dropped from her chin, his eyes on hers, his breath warm against her cheek.
