Midnight in Brussels (16 page)

Amanda had moved into a small flat in Antoine’s building after living longer than she had planned at the B&B. The van Nevels had given her a special rate, but it still wasn’t as inexpensive as a flat and wasn’t as close to the Markt area, and of course not as large. Plus, now she had her own kitchen.

She was a floor above Antoine and had a view of the street below. The apartments facing Markt square were larger and more expensive and the tenants in those had been there for years, with no desire to move elsewhere. They would have to die before those flats would be available.

At first Amanda thought it might be a bit awkward to live so close to Antoine and the girls, but it turned out to be perfect. They did spend a lot of time together, and she took care of the girls when the grandmother needed to run errands or needed a day off.

Amanda had set up a sewing room in one of her three rooms and she worked day and night putting together a collection of clothing. She’d made up her mind. She was going to open
Mandy Malone’s
. She didn’t know how she would handle the legalities of it all yet, or where the shop would be, but she still had time to figure it all out. She’d find a way, she knew she would.

In the meantime, she needed to increase the income she was bringing in, the funding from her brother-in-law was running low and she didn’t want to have to ask anyone for help. Which reminded her, she needed to call Paula.

She dialed and Paula answered.

“Hi, Paula. Whacha doin’?” Amanda greeted as she sat on the sofa.

“Oh, baby, it is so good to hear your voice. How are you doing in your new apartment?”

“I love it. And I’m sewing up a storm. You should see all the stuff I’ve made, the lace and all.”

“I bet it’s pretty. I sure would like to see you, hon. So what is your plan?” Paula asked. “I think you have to come back to the U.S. in six months, you know. I don’t think you can’t stay there over six months without a visa.”

“I’m going to check that out next week,” Amanda said. “And if I have to come back for a visit, I will. That would be in January, wouldn’t it? Six months since I came here?”

“That’s about right. So have you talked to Richard this week?”

“He’s called a couple of times and left messages. We keep missing each other.”

“You know he calls here all the time and comes over every time he’s in town. The guy really loves you, Amanda. He really does.”

Amanda sighed. “But I’m not sure how I feel about him, Paula. And he probably wouldn’t let me do what I’m doing if I came back and married him. I don’t want to give this up. It’d be like living with Arlie again. And then there’s Arlie. We’re still married, so I can’t get married to Richard anyway.”

“I’m sure Richard would take care of all that. He’d make it right. And I don’t think being married to him would be like being married to Arlie. You don’t really think that, do you?”

“It just scares me, that’s all. You know I’m seeing Antoine a lot now. And his girls are the sweetest ever. We get along so good.”

“Are you in love with Antoine?” Paula asked cautiously.

Amanda considered her answer. “No. I’m not. It’s just different, you know? We’re friends, helping each other out in a way. He’s easy to talk to and be with. I don’t feel stupid around him. Sometimes Richard makes me feel so dumb. He’s older and smarter. Richer. Oh I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s just easier with Antoine. He sort of grows on you.”

Amanda went to her kitchen area, which was one wall of the living room, and got a can of Pepsi from the refrigerator. “And he’s … well … we’re the same age and on the same level. I think Richard’s too good for me.”

“He is not! How can you say that?” Paula sounded exasperated. “If anything, you’re too good for him. You’ve got to get that nonsense out of your pretty little head, girl.”

Amanda laughed. “I think you’re biased, Paula.” She took a swallow of the drink.

“Well, you’re my baby sister, that’s why. And you know that Mama and Grandma would say the same thing. You’ve always been special, Amanda, you just haven’t known it. Why, look at what you’ve done in the past year. How many people could do what you’ve done? Huh? How many people would have even tried? You set your mind to it and you did it. I’m just so proud of you, baby. So proud!”

Amanda could hear the emotion in Paula’s voice. “Are you crying, Paula?”

“Well, you make me cry, baby.” She laughed. “I just want you to be happy, and I just know that Richard is right for you. Please give him a chance. Promise me you will.”

“I haven’t told him no yet, Paula. I haven’t told him anything. And when I come home to visit, maybe I’ll know more about how I feel. But don’t tell him my plans for the shop over here. I don’t want him to know that just yet.”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“Well, I gotta go now, so you give A.G. a big fat kiss for me, and give Drake a giant hug. I’ll call you later.”

It was Friday night and Amanda was trying on one of her newly sewn creations – a silk dress flowing from a strapless lined-lace band that fit snuggly across the bust line. The sky blue color of the fabric reflected the color of her eyes. Her plans were to cover a pair of shoes with the silk to go with the dress.

As she looked in the mirror she thought of Antoine. Their outings with the girls and the evenings alone after the girls were in bed and their dinner dates once a week were becoming more and more romantic, they’d end each evening with a kiss that became more intimate than the one before. And she was becoming more and more eager to see Antoine each night when he got home from work. He’d spend an hour with the girls, put them to bed and then come upstairs to see Amanda.

There was a knock at the door.

She looked at her watch and saw that it had to be Antoine. After a brief hesitation, thinking of quickly taking off the dress and putting on her jeans and top, she decided against it and opened the door.

“Wow!” Antoine stared at her with his widened eyes and mouth agape.

“Come in.” Amanda was pleased by his reaction. She wasn’t sure if it was a reaction to the dress itself or how she looked in it. “So what do you think?” She twirled so he could see the identical front and back. The seams were almost invisible, which she took great pride in, had learned how to do that from her mother. “Think I could sell this?”

“Sell it? You should wear it every day and night. It’s beautiful! We should go out dancing somewhere.”

Amanda giggled. “No, no, no. It’s to sell. Do you like the design?”

“Oh yes. I can visualize this in your shop window. It’ll cause quite a stir, it will.”

“Well, I’ll just be a moment,” she said as she went into her bedroom to change. “Pour the wine, will you? And there are some snacks on a plate in the fridge. Help yourself.

As she undressed she thought about how far she’d come from the hills of Arkansas to entertaining a handsome young man in her own comfy flat in Belgium. It felt so natural to be making gorgeous clothing and sipping wine with Antoine late at night. She decided to put on an oversized t-shirt that came down to mid-thigh instead of her jeans and top. Less constraining, more comfortable.

The music was on and a glass of wine was waiting for Amanda on the table in front of the sofa alongside the plate of sandwiches. Antoine was leaning back on the sofa pillows watching for her entrance from the bedroom. The look on his face was soft and loving.

“Oh, great! You did good, Antoine. I definitely need a glass. It’s been a long day for me, finishing that dress and starting more lace for another.” She sat in the middle of the sofa and reached for the glass from the table. “Cheers!”

They clanked their glasses and melted into the fluffy cushions.

“So what was your day like?” She sipped and reached for a sandwich as she waited for his answer.

“Uneventful. Typical day. The Friday regulars came in, sat at their favorite tables. Nothing changes. Once in a while someone new and interesting comes in, like the day you first walked through the door.” He grinned and took a sip.

“So you’re saying that happens a lot?” she teased.

He laughed. “No, I’m not saying that.” He reached over and touched her knee. “You look as good in a t-shirt as you did in the fancy dress.”

“Ha! Now I know you’re putting me on.”

Antoine set his glass on the table and moved closer to Amanda. “You know how much I care for you, don’t you, Mandy? I mean after all this time, you’ve got to know.”

She felt uneasy and moved her knee from his touch by placing her foot on the floor and sitting erect. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him, leaning in for a kiss. She relaxed a little and let him kiss her. Kisses felt nice, and they were harmless.

He took one of her hands and placed it on his shoulder as the kiss continued, and then he reached for her other hand and did the same. Amanda felt tingly all over as he pulled her closer to him.

Returning his kiss was easy and she was enjoying being held close. But as he began to gently lay her back on the sofa and move his body above hers, pressing against her, she stiffened and tried to sit up.

“Stay in the moment, stay in the moment …” he whispered.

It became easier than she thought it would be. Antoine made it feel natural as he stroked the outside of her thigh and slipped his hand under the back of her t-shirt and pulling her even closer with his hand pressing into the small of her back.

The kisses became more intense and breathless as Amanda felt his hot body against hers. She became even more aroused when Antoine lifted the front of her t-shirt and kissed the space between her breasts as he began kneading them gently. His lips brushed her throat, and the indentation at the front of her neck.

Then he raised his head slightly and looked up at the expression on her face and her closed eyes. This was something he’d wanted to do ever since he first saw her.

Amanda opened her glazed eyes and gazed into his. “We should probably stop, you know.”

“Not now.” He tickled her nipple with his tongue. “You like that?”

“Oh my God, yes!”
She giggled and squirmed as he continued to make an all-out effort to pleasure her in every way he could think of. She had no idea she could feel as good as he made her feel. The thrills were zinging every erotic zone of her body. Antoine was a very talented man at lovemaking, she decided.

After two hours of teasing and gentle lovemaking that culminated in both of them reaching the ultimate high in sexual ecstasy, Amanda abruptly sat up, almost knocking Antoine off the sofa.

“Oh my gosh! Look at the time. I’ve got stuff to do.” She reached for her glass and went to the fridge for some cold water. “Would you like a drink of water before you leave?”

She was half embarrassed and half thinking that maybe it was time she take Rachel up on her offer and go to Brussels for a few days. Having sex with Antoine was much too confusing. She needed to get away from him right away.

Richard’s face flashed through her mind. She felt guilty.

Yes, she’d call Rachel in the morning and make arrangements to go to Brussels for a few days.

Chapter 29

It began raining as Rachel headed for her morning coffee. She rounded the corner from the lane leading to the central square and the restaurant on the corner at Number 1 Grand Place. It was her favorite, besides the Metropole Cafe at the hotel where she was staying. It was called the
Le Roi d’Espagne
, named after the bust of Charles II which decorated the façade on the second floor. One of the things Rachel loved doing was finding out the history of the fascinating old buildings wherever she went. This had only become a favorite pastime of hers in later years; she had never been interested in history before becoming a writer. Doing historical research, visiting places, reading about the people, it was all part of a writer’s creative process.

She was attracted to The Roy (its nickname) by its ambiance and the history of it. Built in 1697, originally a Bakers Guild, at one point it added a café and a hardware store, then became strictly a café in 1952. According to the waiters, to work there one had to speak French and English in addition to the local languages.

At least three or four times a week Rachel went there for a late morning cup of coffee and pastry, sometimes lunch. She’d sit a couple hours and make notes about her thoughts and for the novel. Sometimes a person she would see, hear, or talk to would trigger an idea and she’d jot it down.