Moments later, I doze off.
Max wakes me up in the dead of the night to climb back into the broom closet so the approaching guard wouldn’t discover us. When he’s gone and we return to our “campsite,” I sit up and pat my thighs. He stretches out, his head in my lap. Inhaling the musky smell coming off his body, I yearn to rake a hand through his dark hair. My hands itch to stroke his face. But I stop myself.
Minutes later, he’s breathing softly, fast asleep.
At dawn, the cleaning crew arrives. Max and I hide behind a bookcase while the custodians fetch what they need from the storage room.
When the first visitors finally turn up, we each make a quick trip to the restroom, and then sail through the gift shop out to liberty.
We don’t talk much during the first hour of our train ride back to Paris. The seats are as comfy as on any high-speed TGV, and there’s ample legroom here in first class.
I watch landscapes flicker outside the window for a while. Then I try to read the book I borrowed from Mom. I also try to catnap. Each with equal lack of success.
Max has nodded off. We haven’t discussed our time in Lyon. Nor have we chewed over the mystery of the missing key. Neither of us has breathed a word about the amazing sex we had in the storage room.
I’d love to talk about all those things! But Max is in a bleak mood, still crushed by the failure of our mission.
There’s one reason that makes me glad about his brooding. It gives me time to regroup. Sooner or later, I’ll have to deal with how easily I broke my vow to never againget involved with a boss of mine. I’ll have to face the uncertainty and the awkwardness of how this trip changes things between Max and me.
Will we have sex again? To my great regret, I’d love to. But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if for him what happens in Lyon stays in Lyon, and our fling is already over?
My phone rings, interrupting my thoughts. It’s Jerome.
We haven’t talked since he dumped me, and frankly he’s been out of my mind for nearly as long. I got a new job, moved to Paris, chased a fan across Lyon with my new boss, made love to the aforementioned boss… who just woke up.
With a tight smile, I mutter an apology and tap the green button on my screen.
“Hang on a sec,” I say into the phone and head to the gangway between cars. “What’s this about?”
“How’s Paris?” Jerome asks awkwardly.
“Great. Paris is great.”
“Did you find a good rental?”
“Still looking.” Before he asks where I stay, I add, “My new employer is paying for a hotel room.”
“That’s very generous of them!”
“The contract is for one month only with no guarantees of renewal, so…” I let my explanation fizzle out, realizing how out of place this small talk is. “What do you want, Jerome?”
“I wanted to tell you that I have proof now.”
“Of what?” I have no clue what he means.
“Natasha’s embezzling the company funds.”
It takes me a long, silent moment to process the implications of what he said. If it’s true, then the veiled accusations he threw at the office manager weren’t a form of moral harassment. They were an outlet he gave to his helpless anger.
I shake my head.He’s lying.She’s such a lovely person, and she’s been with the company for so long. She’d never do that!
“I don’t believe you,” I say.
“I didn’t expect you to, but I’ll be happy to email you all the evidence that Dad and I unearthed.”
I infuse my voice with enough sarcasm to conceal my nascent doubts. “Unearthed or invented?”
“She isn’t contesting her termination,” he says. “She won’t be litigating. You may not believe me, but she called Dad yesterday and asked to let the matter rest.”
