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"How long have you been here?" I ask him, because judging by the circles under his eyes, he's been here all night.
He chuckles, and his brow unfurrows as he looks at me with sparkling eyes that almost undo some of the fatigue.
"Not long," he says, and gestures along the sidewalk for me to follow him. "I know a wonderful place around the corner."
And that's how I find myself sitting in this very awkward situation with a thimble-sized coffee, across from the man who a few days ago I was dreaming of having babies with.
"So," I begin, trying to smooth us into normal conversation. "I think you had something to—"
"Here's the deal, Natalie.” He leans forward on his elbow with eyes so intense I catch my breath. “The restaurant is struggling, and has been for a while. Costs are rising, and we have too many services that aren’t full. Now we have additional challenges to overcome. You've seen the magazines. Time is ticking. There are very few people in the world who know just what trouble the Bouchon Noir is in, and the whole of the Dubois name is on the line. I feel what we need is really close. The wine reveal has already helped our reputation, but we need something that can… what do you say? Throw it out of the park?"
"Knock it out of the park. And well done for your baseball analogy. But Olivier," I lean forward toward him. "What amIsupposed to do? How can I possibly help you? I'm just some random American chick who hopped on a plane from Texas. This whole world is completely different to me."
"That's just it." His eyes are wild, and I wonder if he's going off his rocker. "This is why you can be the one to bring fresh eyes. I have some ideas."
He pulls out a notebook.
"I thought maybe I can run you through them, and then you can add the flair that is well known in American publicity. First I can prompt you with—"
"Hold on, hold on, hold on. Just wait a minute here," I sit back in my chair and down my coffee in one gulp. "The last time I saw you, back at the château, you made me feel small and unimportant. Completely expendable."
He folds his hand on the table and lowers his chin.
"And for that I am deeply sorry."
"I invested a lot in Grandmama, and since I've been gone I haven't heard one peep about how she's doing. I don't know how things usually work in France, but where I come from, I'm due a little bit more respect than this. I won't let you use me, Olivier."
Wow. Did I just say all that? Usually in moments like this my mouth falls all over itself, and I'm lucky if I can get out a few grunts that string together words and a sentence. But that? That was good.
Because it was the truth. For just a minute, I forgot about trying to be the classy French lady, and told him like it is. He was as much the reason for it—he’s never judged me for anything I say.
The words flow easily when it’s him across from me.
Olivier blinks. "Natalie. I never wanted you to feel that way. The drama in my family is generations old, and I’m only beginning to push back on it. But I’m getting better, I promise."He reaches across the table and covers my hands in his. "I am so sorry, Natalie. Please forgive me."
I feel faint. His hands are warm, enveloping mine, strong and secure. And there's no question that he means what he says.
“I will. When you show me you mean it.”
"That’s fair." He squeezes my hands tighter for a moment and then reaches back to his notebook. "Let me talk you through some of the ideas I have already."
"No, no," I say. "Not here. Let's walk and talk. It's something we do back home, it helps get the creative juices flowing."
"Okay…" He hesitates, but we're operating on my terms now.
We stroll down the street as he gives me a list of subpar, mostly boring, semi-mediocre and occasionally illegal concepts. Last time I checked, kidnapping a celebrity and unmasking them in the restaurant would be grounds enough for jailtime.
"Olivier," I say, stopping for a moment. "These are terrible ideas."
His arms droop at his sides.
"I know, I know. I told you, I'm stuck. Please, Natalie. What can we do?"
“In the first place, you’re having to do a big splash because of costs, right?”
He cringes. “Yes.”
“You know that locally-sourced ingredients are both good for the environment and a great way to build your brand…”
