Page 48 of The Heart You Kept

“I mean….” I shrug. “It’s better than a cupboard, I guess.”

“Armoire,” he corrects me.

“Well, how would it work?” I ask, my interest piqued.

He shrugs, still thinking out loud. “You offer an internship of say…fifteen hours a week. They shadow you and work alongside your team for a period of time, like two months or something, and you all share your knowledge and mentor this person. This isn’t a monetary prize; this is time with you. A prize that money cannot buy.”

My eyes hold his as the idea rolls around in my brain. “I could take them to the Paris market and introduce them to our wholesalers,” I think out loud.

“Yes. If they are old enough to travel, you could.” He smiles, knowing that he may have just solved our problem.

The more I think about this idea the more I like the sound of it, a broad smile slowly covers my face. “What would I do without you, Monsieur Deschanel?”

“Probably not have to think of prizes for auctions.” He lies down on his back and points to his cheek. “You can start here.”

Huge bouquets of flowers line the red carpet. Security with earpieces, reporters covering the event, and acrobats walking on stilts with fire, the entrance is every bit as exotic as promised.

“Wow.” I smile to Pascal as we climb out of our car, my nerves simmer as the auction approaches. Tonight’s the night and if everything goes to plan, my prize will slip between the glamour and the glitz and be just enough to hold a place.

Pascal takes my hand in his and we walk up the large staircase to the flashes of cameras. I feel like a princess and am wearing a red vintage evening gown with my hair and makeup professionally done. I’ve never gone to so much trouble before, but I figure if I’m going to do it…I may as well try and look the part while I do. “Mr. Deschanel,” a reporter calls. “Are you excited for tonight’s event?”

“Yes I am.” He smiles with a nod and a wave, and leads me in through the front doors and when I see the grand ballroom, my stomach dips and suddenly I feel like throwing up.

“How…. What…where….” My eyes dart around at our surroundings, a catwalk stage is right through the middle of the room, the table and chairs are set around it.

“What’s that for?” I stammer.

“I think there’s a fashion parade or something later,” Pascal replies.

“Oh.” I put my hand over my heart to try and stop it beating so fast.

“Will you relax?”

“How can I relax?” I whisper. “This is literally my worst fucking nightmare.”

He looks down at me and chuckles as he tucks a piece of hair behind my ear.

“What?” I ask.

“Looking like that and cursing like a sailor.”

“Well, this sailor is about to walk the plank and jump overboard.”

A waiter walks past us with a silver tray filled with champagne flutes and offers us one.

“Cheers.” Pascal smiles as he holds his glass to mine.

“Cheers.” I take a sip and the cool bubbles of deliciousness dance on my tongue. “This is good.”

“Only have one until the auction is over.” He winks.

“Good idea,” I agree. “Don’t want to be auctioning off the wrong thing.”

Pascal’s eyes land on something across the room and he clenches his jaw.

“What’s wrong?” I frown.

“What is he doing here?” he mutters under his breath.