I waited for a moment until I knew my voice wouldn’t go all shaky. “A kiss?”
He almost smiled. “First you slap me, now you want a kiss? You are of two minds, Sarah.”
“I know. But . . . just a good-bye kiss.” I took a deep breath. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
He shook his head. “No, it is fine. One last kiss between us.”
He hesitated for a moment, then slowly pulled me to him, staring down at me with his silvery eyes. I was about to say something else, I don’t even know what, but I didn’t have a chance. He touched his lips to mine, just soft like a feather. Hardly touching. And I thought that’s all it would be. Just a tease. A reminder of what it was like to touch him. He seemed to pull back a bit, but then stopped.
“Thierry—” I managed, but my words were cut off as he crushed his mouth against mine, his grip tight on my upper arms, then slowing trailing down my back, against my waist, and he crushed me against him as if he never wanted to let me go.
The kiss deepened and I opened my mouth to him. He staggered back a few feet until he hit the edge of his desk and my hands were under his jacket, under his shirt, and against his warm skin. I couldn’t stop touching him. I wanted him so much. Despite everything. All the harsh words, all the fighting, all the uncertainty. This was real. I could feel it. This wasn’t good-bye. It couldn’t be.
The kiss made my head spin, my heart ache, and then it was over. My lips felt bruised. He turned away and made for the door.
He stopped in the open doorway. “I wish you the best of everything for your future.”
“Thierry . . . ” I said, shakily, the pain a living, breathing thing in my throat as I spoke.
He didn’t turn around. “Good-bye, Sarah.”
And that was that. He was gone. Back to make a brief appearance at the party before he disappeared forever. Somewhere I’d probably never be able to find him even if I wanted to.
And why would I want to? Why would I want somebody who didn’t want me back? Who’d made it painfully obvious?
My legs gave way and I sat down heavily in his chair behind the desk. I just stared at the door, feeling like my heart had turned into a paperweight in the center of my chest. Heavy and easy to shatter. But I didn’t cry. I just felt numb.
I didn’t want to go back out there. Not yet. After a few minutes, and without thinking much about it, I opened my purse and searched through the contents for a moment before I found what I was looking for.
Then I grabbed the phone and pecked in the number on the card.
It rang four times.
“Oui?”A beautiful voice sang out.
“Veronique?”
“Oui, c’est ca.”
“It’s . . . it’s Sarah.”
There was a pause.
“Sarah Dearly,” I clarified. “From Toronto .”
“Of course! Sarah, my dear, how are you?”
I cleared my throat. “You were right.”
“I am right about so many things. Can you be more specific?”
“Thierry. He dumped me. He’s sold the club and he’s moving back toFrance . Tomorrow.”
“He’s coming here?”
“That’s what he said. Maybe you two can work out your problems and have another thousand years together. Whatever.” My vision blurred but I sucked it up. Focused on the letters on the phone pad. My lips still tingled from the kiss.
“Oh, no, no. That won’t do. If he’s coming here I’m sure we will not see much of each other. I have my own life.” She covered the receiver, but I could hear her say, “Yes, yes, I’m coming, Jean-Luc. Just a moment.”
My throat felt tight. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting.”
“No, you are a friend in need. And I am here with the advice to help mend your broken heart.”
“I’m listening. Help me mend.”
“He wasn’t right for you. Not from the beginning. You are—too different. He is so old, you are so young. He is so serious and rigid, you are so goofy and whimsical.”
“Goofy?”
“He is a very important man of business, you are essentially a glorified waitress. You see? It is best it ends now to avoid any unnecessary pain.”
I nodded. “Weare very different.”
“See? My advice is already helping. It was such a short relationship that it really is no great loss.”
“But, Ilove him.” And I did. I still did. Damn it.
She tsked with her tongue. “The fantasy a schoolgirl might have of her handsome teacher. That’s all it was.”
I shook my head even though she couldn’t see it. “No, that’s not true.”
“Do not worry, your feelings will fade with time. Then you will see them to be nothing more than romantic illusions, like those silly books they sell at the drugstore.”
I twisted the cord around my finger. “I don’t know what to do.”
“What you do, my dear, is to move on. You will find the strength within yourself. Time is a great healer.
Also, I find that buying a new shade of lipstick is an excellent distraction.”
“I don’t know. Veronique—”
“I do hate to cut this off so soon, but I am rather busy. I certainly hope you are feeling better soon. Call again whenever you wish. I am always here to help.Au revoir .” The line clicked dead as she hung up on me.
My back straightened and I let the phone slip back onto the receiver.
Maybe she was right. Maybe I was just a silly schoolgirl with a crush on an unattainable dark hero.