Three and a Half Weeks(64)
It occurs to me that I’m truly exhausted and that I should go to sleep. I’ll feel better in the morning. After washing up and brushing my teeth, I hit the double bed with the fluffy feather top and I’m out as soon as I close my eyes.
Waking up early, I go for a jog in one of the most glorious cities in the world, and pick up a huge latte on my way back to the hotel. By 10:30, I’m showered, dressed, and have my script for the interview ready and in hand. Still not a peep from Ian. I shrug off my worries to focus on the job at hand. If I’m lucky, tomorrow I’ll be back in Portland and I’ll deal with the fallout then, whatever it is. For now, I’ll do my job and enjoy Venice.
Just as I’m setting up for the shoot, Gerard walks in and he’s accompanied by… Lucien? My face must register the shock I’m feeling because both men smile.
He’s even more gorgeous than I remember. His black cashmere vee-neck sweater clings tightly to his chest and shows off his superior physique. He looks taller today though he’s wearing loafers. I can’t seem to keep my eyes off him, while at the same time, my heart’s gone into overdrive at the fact that he’s here.
“Ella, I know it must be a surprise to see me today. Allow me to explain,” Lucien says smoothly, as he walks over to me and greets me with a kiss on both cheeks. “I was meeting with an attorney over a contract dispute and my appointment was for tomorrow afternoon, which is why I couldn’t make it to Venice on time to meet with Maya. However, last night as I was having dinner in a bistro on the left bank, the attorney in question came into the same restaurant and we were able to amicably settle the matter like gentlemen over appertifs.” He smiles. “By the time our discussion was concluded, you were already in the air. I decided to come here so we could do the interview together.”
“Oh. Well, that works out nicely, then,” I say, darting my eyes to Maya who is wearing a self-satisfied smile. I feel the flush come over my face as I consider her warning in light of this new development.
Maya is calm and collected as Lucien and I sit opposite her to ask the questions. Our voices will be edited out so it will seem like a seamless conversation. Lucien is friendly and charming with Maya but she holds her reserve with him: it’s obvious she doesn’t like him and I’m not entirely sure why. His insistence on the interview being done quickly seems like a minor thing to hold a grudge over. I can’t help wondering if these two were romantically involved at some point.
Three hours later, we’re wrapping up and Gerard is packing up all the gear. Maya goes into the bedroom of her suite to make calls, saying her goodbyes before she does. She tells me to look her up the next time I’m in New York.
“Ella, may I take you to lunch?” Lucien asks, as we’re about to leave.
“Sure. That would be nice.” I check my phone: no calls, no messages, my heart sinks. “Let’s go.”
“I know of a great little trattoria not far from here. They have the best cioppino I’ve ever tasted. Are you game?”
Having no idea what cioppino is, I am nonetheless on board. I give a little shrug and smile. “I’m game. Lead the way.”
Once we’re seated, Lucien takes some papers out of his messenger bag. “Ella, these are for you: you’ll find more information on the people we need to interview and the research required. Also, this is the credit card I obtained for you; please charge all business expenses to this account, and here’s a check for cab fare and tips. I didn’t want you to wait until we ironed out the compensation details. I very much appreciate how flexible and accommodating you’ve been.”
“Not at all, though in retrospect, I didn’t need to come at all since you were able to make it.”
“No, I think it’s a good thing that we got to work together on this one. Now you’ll feel more confident for your next interview. Can you tell me what your schedule is for the next two weeks or so?”
The waiter interrupts then to take our order. In what seems like perfect Italian to my untrained ears, Lucien orders our lunch—the cioppino—and a bottle of wine, winking at me when the waiter says something in response. Since I don’t speak or understand Italian, I have no idea what the waiter said. Lucien later told me he commended his choice of wine but I’m not sure I believe him.
“So,” I pick up the thread of our conversation, “the next two weeks? Tomorrow I’m going back to Portland and I believe I’m going to Tokyo with Ian on Saturday. I don’t think we’ll be there for more than a few days, however. When I get back to Portland, I’ll get started on the research.” I pause. “Actually, I’ll get started as soon as I return tomorrow.”