Opposites Attack: A Novel with Recipes Provencal (10 page)

A vivid image of living here with Nelson and their children made Alyce smile.

The painful thought of Jean-Luc losing his home did not.

10

Besotted

Alyce was sitting at her cottage bistro table with her
French is Fun
book, trying to figure out when to use “le” and when to use “la” when her cell started playing the samba music she’d chosen as her ringtone.

“
Bonjour
,
mademoiselle.
Ees thees ze sex-ziest womahn een ze world?
”

“Nelson!”

“I wanted to hear your voice, honey.”

“Awwww. That’s so sweet.”

“What are you doing and what are you wearing?” After she told him, he said, “Sure you don’t want to come home now?”

She dropped her pen. “I thought you were coming here.”

Still sounding sweet as can be, “Come on, you made your point, sexy.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond.

He filled her silence with “You know what I mean. That you can live without me but I can’t live without you.”

A warm rush zapped her face. Her lips tingled. It intensified when he said, “I just want us to be the way we were.”

He went on in his privileged voice about “all the places we’ll see together in this big wide world, the sooner the better.” Alyce barely heard him after that, though she came back to earth when he said, “I’m sending you a credit card that earns points toward almost any airline.” Huh? No man had ever done that for her before. “I know you won’t go crazy with it, one of the many things I like about you. Not that I don’t enjoy spending money on someone I adore. I don’t want to feel used, either.”

“I don’t blame you.”

She was absolutely certain God was listening to her when he said, “Ally, when you emailed me that your host’s property was going to be sold and it used to be a winery and was now run down and needed a lot of work… well, I talked it over with my parents and if it’s as good as it sounds, I might buy it. I’ll have my own business
and
be far away from my mother. And how cool would that be, to own a vineyard in the South of France! What do you think?”

This time she nearly dropped her phone.

In the six months they dated, he’d talked about buying a foreign car dealership, starting a restaurant, launching a website, and other ideas so he could retire by 40 (seven years away).

“Nelson, you know I’ll support you in whatever you want to do. If it doesn’t work out, life goes on. Regretting not trying would be worse.”

“I love you, Ally.”

He said the L-word.

“I love you, too, Nelson.”

“I’m so glad to hear that. I wish I were there right now. I need to
feel
you, baby.”

She closed her eyes and moaned, “Mmmmm. I need to feel you, too.”

His business voice jarred her. “Of course, my parents will be helping financially. Mother wants to see it and other properties, too. And you.”

See how much she’d
transformed and broadened
herself was more like it.

His voice went sweet again. “Then it’ll just be you and me, sweetheart. How about we take a quick trip to Paris?”

“
Très bien.
”

“Shall I get us a hotel while I’m in Marlaison? That writer probably wants to be alone with his girlfriend.”

She thought she saw Jean-Luc in the kitchen eyeing her. “Actually, she just left.”

“It’s just the two of you?”

“I hardly see him. He’s either holed up in his office or I’m studying.”

“I don’t like the idea of you being there alone with him.”

“Oh, please. I’m not remotely interested in him and I’m hardly his type. It’ll be so romantic if you come here compared to a hotel. And if you’re thinking of buying this place, it’ll be a test drive.” She sat down and pouted. “All I do is think of you, sweetie. All this beauty and charm and you’re not here to share it with me.”

“Oh, honey. I’ll be there before you know it. I’m sorry I’ll just miss your birthday. But I’ll make it up to you in Paris.”

Before they hung up, she told him she was changing her email address. “It’s just Alyce dot Donovan at gmail. I’m not a media grrrl anymore.”

“Sure, honey, but you may not be a Donovan much longer either.”

Her arms turned into one solid zingy goose bump.

But the best part of their conversation was that neither You-know-who nor their child was mentioned once.

My sexy amour,

Itinerary coming in a separate email. Can’t wait to see you!

I Googled Jean-Luc. There were a lot of articles on him in French but you know how it is when you hit the Translate This Page button. It comes out pretty bizarre. I did learn he’s never been married or had kids and has quite a reputation with the ladies. If you’re a Francophile, he’s an American-
vile
. Can’t stand us. Sure you don’t want to get a hotel? xoxo N

He attached a photo of himself at a
Music World
magazine party with a famous actor. Damn, he was cute. Cuter than the actor, she thought. There was something about his face, his scent, that still made her stomach tighten.

She considered Nelson owning a vineyard. Here. With her. It was insane. But good insane. Bad insane: an email from Glorianna.

Re: Coming to visit

To: Alyce Donovan

Fr: Glorianna.Mansfield

Darling Alyce,

Didn’t I tell you your trip was the best thing you could do to reel in my little Nelson? He was absolutely besotted the moment you slipped away. I can’t wait to see how France has changed you. I can see you now, all chic and sophisticated. (I highly approve of the new email address.)

Now, before I come I need you to…

11

The Password

“
Bonjour
, Jean-Luc.”

“It is a delight to see you, Pauline.”

They did the South of France customary three-cheek kiss, right/left/right. He invited her in. She immediately began taking notes.

Appointed by his sister to be their real estate broker, he had heard she just left her husband, or he left her. They had been miserable for years. Jean-Luc always enjoyed flirting with her when she was unattainable. Now?

“So much character!” she trilled.

Absent-mindedly he answered, “Yes, yes. So much character.”

He watched her from behind as she headed toward the kitchen. There was nothing like a recently liberated woman: vulnerable, insatiable, and pumped up by friends and family with the conviction that she was wiser, stronger, and better off without her no-good husband. He could spot one instantly. Caution stiffened the knees, the desire to surrender swished around in her ass.

He had finished his mural and needed to write, dammit! Pauline would have to wait.

He needed a car, too. Fast. With those odious Americans coming to visit Alyce (she certainly wasted no time telling them about his misfortune), it would be thoroughly emasculating if he did not have his own chariot. It would also be obvious he was broke. They would swoop in like vultures.

“The kitchen is superb,” Pauline cooed. “You were wise to update it. The rest of the house, hmm, it wouldn’t take too much to make it presentable.” As she scribbled away, she said, “How do you really feel about selling, Jean-Luc?”

He gave a Gallic shrug. “Do you mean how desperate am I?”

“I would use the word flexible.”

He did feel, at times, a deep sadness from all the sentiment attached to his home, especially its connection to Colette. Or was imprisonment a more accurate description? A glorious elation put the wind in his sagging sails when he envisioned walking away for good and starting over somewhere else—as long as his new place was to his liking. That would take a good amount of money.

“Liliane tells me you have no mortgage,” she said, to fill the silence.

“Yes, I will be flexible. But I want to buy another home, of course. It is in your best interest to sell this for as much as possible.”

A pleased grin filled her 40ish face that still looked youthful.

He directed her outside. “Is there something wrong with the swimming pool?”

“No. I never use it.”

She gave him an odd look. “It’s a big selling point. I strongly recommend opening it up and showing it off.”

A nasty edge came forth. “Let people use their imagination.”

Pauline shook her head and jotted down a note. “Let’s look at the cottage.”

“I have a tenant in there. She should be here when you do that.”

“She?” Pauline teased. She nevertheless walked over and peered in the window. “What’s in that aquarium?”

“Pet
loirs.
”

“They must go immediately!”

She wrote another note that Jean-Luc took a look at.
Poison.

“That won’t be necessary. I can fix the sonic detector that keeps them away.”

“My way is cheaper.”

He did not look forward to broaching the subject with Alyce. He found her attachment to them oddly comforting. Heartbreaking, too. She could not be their mother forever.

C’est la vie
.

She looked around. “Where did you make the wine?”

He took her into the basement filled with the aromas of oak, earth, stone, and dust. As she looked around, he opened the cupboard that now held only two jars of lavender honey.

Pauline was delighted with his gift. She hesitated with an expectant look. For a moment he thought she might be the perfect woman for him. For a moment.

He cleared his throat, took her elbow, and led her out into the sun.

Her hope was still there when she asked, “Are you free for dinner tonight? I hate to cook for myself.”

He did have to eat at some point. But at her place? Too cozy.

“If you treat me to dinner at a restaurant as you would any client, I won’t say no.”

That met, somewhat, with her approval.

As he finished signing the contract that would give her 5% of the selling price, the damn American girl arrived. Pauline sized her up while he explained to Alyce, in English, who she was and that she’d like to see the cottage.

“Sure. It’s open. I only lock it at night.”

Jean-Luc found that comical.

Pauline sighed, relieved to get that piece of information. “Do you wish to accompany me?” she asked Alyce.

Jean-Luc touched her arm. “I need to discuss something with you.”

The broker arched an eyebrow as she tried to determine just what was going on here. “I won’t be long,” she said. “Then we’ll be on our way.”

Alyce saw the contract on the table, the pen still in Jean-Luc’s hand. “Wait, Pauline. Did Jean-Luc tell you my boyfriend has an interest in buying this place? He’s flying over in a week.”

Pauline’s chin went up a bit.

“In America,” Alyce said, “the seller pays a commission to the broker. Is that how it works here?”

“Yes,” she answered curtly. “I see where this is going.”

Alyce turned to Jean-Luc. “Wouldn’t you like to save tens of thousands of dollars?”

He stared at her, dumbfounded. Not giving Pauline a commission for a sale she had nothing to do with never entered his mind.

Alyce nodded at the contract. “Please put Nelson Mansfield down as a noncommissionable buyer.”

Jean-Luc felt highly uncomfortable. Yet, she was right. He had to start being smart about his finances. “If Pauline makes no effort at all to sell it to him and has nothing to do with the negotiation, I agree with you.”

Pauline did little to mask her disappointment. After she headed out the door to see the cottage, Alyce said, “Are you okay with what I just said? I’m trying to help you.”

“I hate to be helped.”

“Well,
excuuuse
me.” She ran tap water into a glass and took a sip.

He walked to the screen door and watched Pauline go into the cottage. “I do appreciate what you did, Al-
ees.
I am just having a hard time imagining anyone else living here.”

“So what’s the story with her? Another girlfriend? You don’t waste time, do you?”

“I live my life and women appear. We will be going to dinner. Can you manage on your own?”

“Tonight?”