“And look at what you gained without me in your way. Look at how happy, in love, and successful you became in just six and a half short years.”
“I was talking about the Seurat costing me millions more than intended, not the direction of my life.”
“Same thing.” She coyly batted her eyelashes and smiled.
“Can we walk the bikes across?”
“We could, but ... so, what’s the worst that can happen?” she asked.
“I could get hit by a truck, or I could drive off the bridge into the water, or something could happen to you.”
“Okay, if you stay in the lane, you won’t get hit by a truck. It’s a stone bridge, so there’s no way you can drive off it, and if something happens to me, then you just saved yourself from paying my commission on the Seurat.”
Running his hand through his hair, he glanced out at the calm river. “What’s on the other side?”
“The best part of Parisian life and the most amazing croissant in the city. William, you can do this, but I’m right here if you can’t. Trust me. It’s okay.”
“Well, I guess. Okay. I’ll lead.”
“And I’ll follow you anywhere,” she said, meaning it. “I promise, you’ll be fine, and you’ll love the journeyandthe destination.”
And, just like that, he was off, riding through the traffic like he’d done it a thousand times, but she was sure he gritted his teeth, maybe even death-gripped the handlebars. Some things hadn’t changed about William, maybe they never would. As expert a swimmer as he was, he still feared bridges. Maybe that was the hidden metaphor for how he viewed life. For someone who had tight control over most aspects of his orderly existence, the fear of the unknown—the unexpected—on the other side or down below in the murky water, made him uneasy. He couldn’t control what was outside his analytical or proficient grasp.
They didn’t speak during the entire expanse, but she could hear his breath hitch every once and a while until he finally stopped where the bridge met the Left Bank. Turning in his seat with a heart-stopping smile, he watched her catch up.
“See, you’re still alive!” she declared.
“The day’s early yet,” he chuckled.
“True. That was huge! I don’t mean to sound condescending, but ... I’m proud of you. ”
“You know, so am I.”
“Well, Mr. Darcy, Saint-Germain-des-Prés awaits,” she said.
Riding along the Quai de Conti, she pointed out the amazing architecture and several restaurants, once too rich for her student purse. “I used to walk along this at night. It’s beautiful! The building to your left is the Institut de France, but wait until you see the Beaux Arts. It is way more amazing, but I might be a little biased,” she said.
“I can see why you love it here. Did you paint along the Seine?”
“I did. Notre Dame is on that island below the Pont-Neuf. I spent a lot of time sketching Île de la Cité from the Quai de Conti vantage point.”
She turned down another street, then a cobbled one, chuckling when he cursed.
“And here we are!” she announced, stopping the bike in front of the best, unknown patisserie in the city. The charming Rue de Lille hummed with life and a vibrancy not even TriBeCa had, and her soul came alive in the culturally infused air.
William pulled up beside her, his cheeks flushed from the heat. “I gotta admit, Lizzy. This was a great idea.”
“See, stick with me, kid, and I’ll show you a good time, not like that, of course ... because you’re my client—and engaged, but ... you know what I mean.”
He smiled and looked like he was about to say something but didn’t.
Nearly bouncing in her Chuck Taylors, she removed her earbuds, then jumped off the bike, running past the bistro tables into the café. And there he was: her dear friend, René, the fellow art student who helped her to not only acclimate to Parisian life but also get her mind off William until Anne died.His bright smile lit the establishment. Like the café, René looked unchanged, down to his mess of wavy, black hair and signature sideburns.
“Squeeee! It’s you!” she exclaimed.
Coming out from behind the counter, he swept her into his arms, twirling her around. They spoke in French, just like years ago when speaking English was taboo as she tried to learn the language. “Coucou!You came back to me,chérie!”
Laughing she said, “I told you I would.”
