‘If only all family connections were as easy to get out of.’ She raises a glass and then watches Florian closely as if inspecting his reaction.
‘I should apologise for the other day,’ he says, changing the subject. ‘We had a bit of a shock, running into each other. I wasn’t exactly at my best.’ He gestures to me and I nod slowly; it definitely wasn’t either of our finest moments.
The American weighs up his apology and then shrugs. ‘Ava explained the situation. I think both of your reactions were understandable.’
‘I just don’t want you to think that I normally chase women down the street…’ Florian adds.
‘You don’t? That’s a shame. I quite liked the passion of it all.’
I choke on my forkful of rice.
‘I’m teasing you.’ The American nudges me and then smiles bashfully at Florian. ‘You’re quite the thing to look at, you know?’ He looks at her startled, as if processing her statement and then, suitably alarmed, looks to me for assistance.
‘Easy, girl,’ I grin.
‘You just have a face that’s quite hard to forget.’
‘Er, thank you?’
‘I’ve seen lots of faces, you start to know the good ones quickly.’
‘Have some water.’ I push the bottle towards her.
‘Let an old woman have some fun.’ She bats the bottle away. ‘I’m not drunk, just honest.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I murmur to Florian. ‘Bet you regret offering to help now.’ He lets out a stifled little chuckle in response.
‘Ava told me you’re an artist.’ She leans over the table as if she is expecting to see his work tattooed onto his eyeballs.
‘Yes.’ He nods quickly.
‘I love art.’ She gestures at her outfit, the colourful kimono and matching headband, with a pout. ‘If you can’t tell.’
‘You should come to Chateau Beaumont on Wednesday,’ Florian says lightly, sounding terrifyingly genuine. ‘There’s an exhibition in the gallery up there, local artists mainly but there’s some interesting pieces.’
‘How wonderful.’ She practically blossoms at the invitation. ‘How about it, Ava?’ His invitation has caught me off guard; I usually have time to formulate excuses for things like this. ‘Come on, darling, it’s not like you have any better offers of entertainment in this place on a Wednesday night.’
‘Fine.’ I sigh, and The American twinkles at my defeat.
The music gets louder, the quartet have added a singer, more people migrate to the stage. The American looks to Florian.
‘I like this one.’
‘Then we should dance.’ He offers her his hand over the table. She makes a girlish squeak and almost jumps from her seat.
‘I knew I liked you,’ she smiles.
I watch as he guides her through the crowd; he towers over her, and she clings on to him for dear life, but they are smiling and laughing as he twirls her around, pumping her arms to the beat.
‘She’s right,’ Crispy slurs into my ear. ‘He does have a very nice face.’
Chapter 11
‘You’re angry with me,’The American pouts as I guide the Fiat down the impossibly steep hill out of the town.
‘I’m notangrywith you.’ I feel my shoulders relax as we finally turn onto the long straight A road that connects one medieval fortress with another. I hope The American doesn’t notice the Sharpie mark on my hand, reminding me to drive on the right. She looks at me with her overdrawn eyebrow raised up into her fringe. I shrug. ‘Okay, I’m a little confused perhaps.’
‘I thought you two had reached an agreement, an understanding?’
