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"I never before knew the power of Texan girls," Julien scratches the back of his head with a shy smile."Please, before you bring me under your spell, I take Natalie for another dance." He pulls me back into the crowd.
"Okay, Julien, if you insist." I wave back at the girls.
By the time the party ends, we are full of giggles and covered in sweat from having danced, jumped, skipped, and occasionally headbanged our way through the end of the night. The wine might be going to our head, but only enough that the city is even more magical than usual.
Here I am, surrounded by my best friends, who dared to follow me to the other side of the planet from our little town of Sage. Moments like this, I can't help but think how sweet life is. I take in a deep breath of Parisian night air.
"Hey, Natalie," Jessica says with an odd tone of voice. I hold my breath. "Isn't that your boss?"
Here comes destiny again, with a kick to the gut. There’s a giant poster on the side of the news kiosk. A blow up of one of the magazines. Sure enough, there's Olivier's face, about fifty times larger than life. Underneath it simply says 'Oui ou non?'. Yes or no. The magazine may think that they're referring to the future of the Dubois legacy, but for me the question is much more profound.
"Come on, hon," Laura puts her arm around me. "Let's head home. If we're lucky there will even be hot water for all of us to shower." Her weak humor is an obvious attempt to distract me from the super-sized mug shot of the man I kissed just a few days ago.
But that’s why I love Laura, and why we’ve been thick as fleas on a farm dog since not long after I could walk. My best friends are all waiting to take my cue. Will I descend into emotional messiness? Or am I still glowing from the bal musette and a sweet guy who took me dancing?
I smile. "Hot water for us all? Girl, that’s crazy talk."
We have a good laugh and continue the stroll home.
But I can't resist taking one last look. It feels like Olivier is asking the question straight to me.
What's it going to be Natalie? Are you going to let this man dictate the rest of your time in Paris? A trip you've dreamt of forever and been saving for since you were fifteen years old? Yes or no?
His face stares out at me, those emerald eyes imploring.
Oui ou non…
CHAPTER 28
Olivier
Oui ou non?
Such an idiotic attempt to drag my name through the mud. But it raises the stakes for whatever I come up with to build positive publicity. I have to do that, or else this so-called scandal announced in the magazines will be the nail in the coffin. The worst of it is I am sure it's a rumor planted by our competition. It is too far-fetched to be anything else.
The Bouchon Noir use frozen meat? Never!
If I had to guess, it was Renaud Le Mieux and his cronies who planted this among the media elite. He's been looking for a way to take down the Dubois Estates ever since his elderly grandfather made a move on Grandmama and she refused him—with flourish—in front of a restaurant full of people.
Oui ou non, will the Bouchon Noir survive?
And when they say the Bouchon Noir, they don't mean the restaurant. They mean me. It's my face that they've plastered on the cover of Gastronomique. What kind of cover story is this? To accuse us of using frozen meat… In any other country that's common. But not in France, and most importantly, not in my restaurant.
Though it's not easy to convince people otherwise once a rumor like that is out there. And there's no point trying to beat him at his own game. He'll win.
No, I need to rise above it. Rise above it…
I feel like there's any idea in that. An event, publicity… But everything I've come up with has just been more ‘in the box’. Create new dishes to commemorate the moment? It's been done. Find celebrities who will represent the restaurant? Also been done, and no one would want to put their name alongside us right now.
I'm stuck. I need to come at this question from an entirely different angle, but my mind is still back at the country house. All I can do is relive that moment, when I was swinging Natalie in the air, my hands on her waist as I lowered her. The sensation of her curves under my fingertips…
She's almost the only thing I can think about. She invades my dreams. The first thing I think of in the morning and the last thing at night. Natalie.
Maybe that's the answer. Maybe I've been staring it straight in the face all this time. I want something out of the box… Natalie with her Texan charm and southern warmth. She'll come up with something. Something I've never thought of before.
This is purely business, of course. This has nothing to do with feelings, certainly nothing to do with that growing sense inside me that I'll never be fully complete without her. No, this is all about the restaurant.
It's best I just show up at her door, otherwise she might refuse to see me. After the way I sent her off, I wouldn't be surprised. But if I’m standing in front of her, I'm certain she'll see it all in my eyes.
