He shakes his head. “My mother used to bring me here to watch my grandfather at work. He died when I was young, but I’ve loved French cars ever since.”
“Only French ones?”
“They’re the best.”
But of course.
“So if I brought my Aston Martin in here, you’d turn me away?”
“Is he paying you that much money?”
I laugh and shake my head. “I wish. But the pay is better than at my last job, and it’ll tide me over until I find a new one.”
“You quit your job to work for Jackson?”
“Don’t look so alarmed!” I shove his shoulder. “I was looking for an excuse to leave. My boss was an idiot.”
“Unlike your new one,” Étienne remarks.
“Jackson is not an idiot,” I defend him. “He can just be a bit clueless sometimes.”
“On the contrary, I think he knows exactly what he’s doing.”
I sharply meet his gaze. He returns my stare defiantly.
We’re interrupted by a guy of about Étienne’s age, height, and build, with thick curly brown hair and heavy dark eyebrows. He throws his arm around Étienne’s shoulders and beams at me, saying something in French that I think translates toAnd who is this?
“Grace,” Étienne replies. “Grace, this is Dion.”
Over the next hour or so, I meet more of Étienne’s friends. They’re all adrenaline junkies, which is probably a consequenceof growing up in this part of France—they embrace the natural landscape, cycling in the summer, snowboarding in the winter, and kayaking year-round. Dion is a professional rally-car driver, Charles is a champion mountain-bike rider, and Raphaël owns a kayak-hire business.
“Do you still haveyourkayak?” I ask Étienne as we lean against the wall behind the black Peugeot 205. I still haven’t made it back onto the dance floor, but I saw Jackson with Lise a while ago.
“I do.”
“We should go out in it again sometime!”
He smiles. “And to think how reluctant you were at first.”
He had to help me climb in and I was terrified of letting go of his hand so I could sit down. My heart leaped when we immediately veered into white water. I couldn’t believe it when he told me to paddle fast.
“I don’t want to gofaster!” I cried with alarm, but apparently it was what we needed to do to stay in control of the boat.
“Where do you keep it?” I ask Étienne now.
It would be a struggle to drag it down to the river from here.
“Les Saules.”
At my look of confusion, he says, “The Willows. That’s the name of my house.”
“You still have the river house?” I ask with surprise, having just assumed he’d sold it to come and live here.
He nods. “I don’t get there much. I need to go soon and do some repairs.”
“I would love to see it again. I’ve had dreams about that place.”
His lips curve up a little. “Come with me, if you like.” Once again, I sense a softening within him. It’s as though he forgot thathe used to enjoy spending time with me, but he’s starting to remember.
