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"That's a very good question." Two girls, who must be twins, come and stand behind the two tall girls.
"I'd like to know too."
Next thing I know they're all standing behind Natalie and looking at me with a combination of frowns, sneers, and outright disdain.
"It's okay," Natalie says, turning round to them. "Down girls, down. I'm going into the hallway. You all carry on."
She closes the door on five girls who haven't budged, their eyes all still set on me like I might turn into a snake.
"Why are you here, Olivier?"
"It's nice to see you," I say.
"I know you wouldn't show up at my door unless there was something going on." The lines in her face are hard, but then they soften. "It's not Grandmama, is it? Is she okay?"
"Grandmama is fine. But I'm not."
She tilts her head, and for a moment, I think she's going to reach out her hand to me. But instead, she folds her hands in front of her. She's holding back, protecting herself. I would, too.
"Natalie, I'm stuck. I don't know if you've seen the announcement, the scandal in the magazine?"
"I have. How could I miss it?"
"I need your ideas. I need to know what you would do. You'll come up with something completely different, I know it. That brain of yours is always running. Please, let me take you out for dinner and just… how do you say? Pull your brain?"
"Olivier, you know that I love the Bouchon Noir."
"Yes?" I say, feeling hope re-enter my heart.
"But I…"
"Natalie?" a man's voice behind me speaks and I begrudgingly turn around. At the top of the stairs is a rugged young man with a lot of hair, and, I hate to admit it, a captivating smile. "Are you ready to go for dinner?"
"Bonsoir, Julien," Natalie gives him two kisses on the cheeks, and a fire lights inside me. It can't be jealousy, it can't.
But it is.
"Can you wait outside for me, Julien? I need a minute, and then I'll be right out."
"But of course," he says in a thick French accent. He eyes me as he walks past and back down the stairs. Two Frenchmen always know when they are vying for the same woman. It's in our blood.
"Olivier," Natalie rubs her head. "Let's have coffee in the morning, and then we can discuss whatever you want to discuss. You can even pull my brain. Now, I have to get ready for my date."
She opens the door to the apartment, where all the girls are still standing in the exact same position they were a few minutes ago, obviously having heard everything.
"The penthouse?" I say, as she's closing the door.
"What do you want from me, Olivier? This is the best I could do. We weren't all born with the opportunities you've had."
The door clicks closed, and the sting of her words drives deep. Going down the stairs, I keep running the scene back over in my mind. Should I have let her go like that? Maybe I should have jumped in front of this nobody called Julien, implored her to come with me, or perhaps brought flowers. Instead, I’ve just let the situation happen to me. Again.
Standing outside the door is stupid Julien, waiting for his dinner date with Natalie. He gives me a knowing nod, as if he has won this round.
I cross the street, only to be greeted by my own face on the side of a newspaper stand. The familiar sound of a giggle reaches me and I turn back to see Natalie take the young man's arm as they head out for dinner in the city of lights.
Oh yes, that envy burns bright, bright enough to light up the whole Eiffel Tower.
CHAPTER 29
