‘Did I not mention that my mom is a workaholic?’ said Matt, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Darcie pulled on her clothes from the day before and sat down next to him. ‘What’s she say?’
‘As we thought, it was Padgett’s lawyers who went to see Odile yesterday.’
‘How does your mum know all this?’
‘She knows someone who knows someone who knows Padgett’s secretary. Or something like that.’ Matt kissed Darcie on the cheek. ‘It’s a small world. My mom’s been in and around the fashion industry for a long time. She’s like a walking Rolodex of who’s who and who works for who. She makes it her business to know everyone’s business.’
‘Wow. She sounds more like a secret agent.’
Matt laughed. ‘She wants to know when she can meet you.’
Darcie was sure she had turned white at the thought. ‘What?’
‘Mom figures I must be serious about you if I’m asking for help.’
Darcie wasn’t sure how to respond to that. A flutter of excitement pitched up in her stomach. She liked the idea that he might be serious about her. She realised that Matt was looking at her. ‘Oh, right, well whatever she figures, thank her for me.’
Matt smiled at her. ‘I’ll make coffee.’
‘I should go, really,’ said Darcie, suddenly feeling flustered. It wouldn’t do to get too attached to Matt. She’d be back in England in a week and the last thing she needed to be taking back home with her was a broken heart. ‘I need to get some fresh clothes.’
‘Just give me a half-hour and I’ll come with you. Then we can go to the meeting together,’ said Matt. ‘That’s if you still want me to?’
‘Yeah. OK.’
‘You sure? You’re not sounding that OK.’
‘Sorry. No. I’m fine. And yes, I’m sure.’ She forced a smile. She needed to keep on top of her emotions. Head over heart. That’s all she had to remember.
When they arrived at Padgett’s office, they were shown through to a boardroom by a secretary.
The room was situated on the corner of the building and overlooked the Paris streets below. A pitcher of water was on the table, together with two glasses. The secretary added a third glass from a cabinet in the room, placing it on the silver tray alongside the others.
‘Monsieur Padgett will be along shortly,’ she said in excellent English before leaving the room, the sound of her heels cushioned by the deep-pile carpet.
‘Hey, why don’t you sit down?’ said Matt, coming over to Darcie. He rubbed the top of her arm.
‘I’m suddenly really nervous,’ she confessed.
‘You have nothing to be nervous about.’
‘I just don’t know how we’re ever going to get to the bottom of this if basically Padgett is denying the story and Odile isn’t talking.’
Before Matt had a chance to offer any answer, the door opened and Padgett appeared in the room, together with two other men in suits, all of them carrying matching leather-bound document wallets.
‘Bonjour,Darcie.’ Christophe Padgett beamed, clearly thinking Darcie had decided to take the payment and this meeting was a mere formality.
‘Bonjour,Christophe,’ replied Darcie. She looked pointedly at the two other men as she lowered herself into a seat on the opposite side of the table to where Padgett was standing.
‘These are my lawyers,’ explained Padgett. It was his turn to direct an enquiring look to Matt.
‘Matthew Langdon. He’s a friend of mine,’ said Darcie.
With an exchange of nods, all four men sat down on their respective sides of the table.
‘So, Darcie, I assume you’ve come to a decision about the dress and sketchbook,’ began Padgett. ‘I was pleased to hear from you yesterday.’
