Isla and the Happily Ever After
Page 66
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Pushing it open has never felt so impossible.
A chain of brass bells signals my entrance. The maître d’ brightens at the sight of me. “Où est Monsieur Bacon?”
“Kurt has other plans tonight,” I reply in French as my gaze darts around the room.
“Oh. Are we sad?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m actually meeting—”
“Isla!”
It comes from the corner table. St. Clair is waving me down as Josh turns around in his chair. Everything transitions into slow motion. The maître d’, the noisy chatter, the smoky fragrance of the wood-fired pizza – they vanish as I wait for his eyes to find mine.
We lock.
The entire contents of my heart reflect back at me in his expression. Joy, pain, strength, wonder, sadness, beauty, hope. He is everything.
“Ah,” the maître d’ says. “Of course.”
He guides me towards the table as my heartbeat thumps in my throat. The room closes in. My soul aches with attraction. There are four empty seats, and the maître d’ pulls out the chair beside Josh. I’m shaking as I place my coat onto the back of it. I’m shaking as I sit down. I’m shaking as Josh glances at the maître d’ with a look of unmistakable gratitude. Does that glance mean what I want it to mean?
“Where’s Kurt?” Josh asks.
“He’s out with some new friends. Underground. It’s a long story.”
Josh lifts his eyebrows in surprise as the rest of the table beams at me – St. Clair, Anna and Meredith. “Wow,” I say. “The gang’s all here.”
“Everyone but Rashmi,” St. Clair says.
Anna gives him a swift kick below the table, but I catch it. “It’s okay,” I say awkwardly. At least it’s answered a question. They know about my history with Josh. I glance at the three empty seats. “Is she coming?”
“One of those was for Kurt,” Josh says, and I’m touched.
“The others are for our friends who got us into the Olympics,” Anna says. “We split up today, and they’re still out sightseeing. They should be here any minute.”
“Friends from California?” I grab the opportunity to show them that I’m not completely in the dark. Just mostly.
She nods. “Yeah, Lola and Cricket. Étienne and I—”
“Étienne,” Josh says, and Meredith cracks up.
“They’re teasing me because I’m the only person who calls him that,” Anna explains.
“You’re the only person allowed to call him that,” Josh says. “You and his mom.”
St. Clair smiles. “The only two ladies I need.”
“That’s sick,” Meredith says, but she’s still laughing. She has a wonderful, friendly laugh. A tiny nose ring catches the light and twinkles. Everything about her is cheerful.
It’s unreal to be surrounded here, in person, by his friends. Those faces from his artwork.
Anna is one of those naturally beautiful girls who has no idea that she’s beautiful. She dresses in jeans and T-shirts, and she has this gap-toothed smile and a bleached stripe in her long brown hair. She’s comfortable in her own skin. Her boyfriend is also beautiful, but he’s aware of it. Not that St. Clair acts like a jerk. He’s just loaded with confidence. He’s short, but it’s never gotten in his way. Nearly every girl at school was in love with him, not to mention most of the guys and half the professeurs.
But I was never in love with him. Not when Josh was around.
Anna clears her throat. “Anyway. Étienne and I—”
Josh and Meredith snicker.
Anna grins. “—work with Lola at a movie theatre. Cricket is her boyfriend, and Cricket’s twin sister is Calliope Bell. The figure skater?”
My eyebrows shoot up. “I’ve seen her face on about a billion advertisements.”
“That’s the one. She’s going for the gold.”
“And you’re all here to cheer her on?” I glance at Josh. He appears to be calm, but it’s superficial. A frenetic energy is pulsating from his core. Vibrating against me. I rub my arms, hair on end, but the others don’t seem to notice.
“Sort of.” St. Clair shrugs. It’s slow and full-bodied, very French. Maman has the same one. “Mainly we’re using it as an excuse to visit.”
I turn to Meredith. “Did you come in from Rome? That’s where you’re attending university, right?”
“Yeah.” She puts an arm around Josh and her curly head on his shoulder, but they’re clearly gestures of friendship. “When I heard everyone was coming, I couldn’t resist.”
“And you?” I don’t look at Josh. He knows the question is for him.
He can’t meet my eyes either. “Same for me, I guess. Couldn’t resist.”
St. Clair waggles his eyebrows at Josh, but the moment he sees that I’ve caught him, his expression changes to a flirtatious grin. “Aw, mate,” he says to Josh. “Admit it. You couldn’t resist me.”
Josh relaxes into a smile. “You’re like a gorgeous little bonbon.”
“Delicious in every way,” St. Clair says.
Anna rolls her eyes. “Wait until you try his creamy centre.”
St. Clair bursts into laughter as Meredith squeals. The chemistry between the four of them is as if they hadn’t spent a day apart. My heart squeezes, but it’s not from jealousy. It’s out of happiness for Josh’s sake. He leans across the table to jostle St. Clair, but he knocks against my arm instead.
“Sorry,” Josh says quickly. His voice turns strained. He sits, and the jovial mood crashes down with him, but his touch shudders through me in waves.
Longing. As fierce and powerful as ever.
I look away, not wanting him to see how badly I wish he would touch me again. And then I discover a strange apparition outside the restaurant’s window. I blink. It’s still there. In the winter, the streets of Paris are grey and the coats that walk them are black.
So this…this is like…
“The circus,” Josh says, finishing my thought out loud. “It’s like the circus has come to town.”
“Brilliant,” St. Clair says. “That must be Lola and Cricket.”
A boy and a girl enter the restaurant. The boy is ridiculously tall and skinny – far more extreme than Josh – and it’s only emphasized by the tightness of his pinstriped pants. He could almost be wearing stilts. He’s wearing a bright blue military jacket, and his wrists are covered in rainbow-coloured bracelets and rubber bands. The girl is wearing a gigantic, poufy skirt with pink and yellow and turquoise crinoline peeking out from underneath. She also has a military jacket, Vietnam-era army green, but hers has been decorated with pink glitter. And she has matching pink hair.
A chain of brass bells signals my entrance. The maître d’ brightens at the sight of me. “Où est Monsieur Bacon?”
“Kurt has other plans tonight,” I reply in French as my gaze darts around the room.
“Oh. Are we sad?”
“No, it’s fine. I’m actually meeting—”
“Isla!”
It comes from the corner table. St. Clair is waving me down as Josh turns around in his chair. Everything transitions into slow motion. The maître d’, the noisy chatter, the smoky fragrance of the wood-fired pizza – they vanish as I wait for his eyes to find mine.
We lock.
The entire contents of my heart reflect back at me in his expression. Joy, pain, strength, wonder, sadness, beauty, hope. He is everything.
“Ah,” the maître d’ says. “Of course.”
He guides me towards the table as my heartbeat thumps in my throat. The room closes in. My soul aches with attraction. There are four empty seats, and the maître d’ pulls out the chair beside Josh. I’m shaking as I place my coat onto the back of it. I’m shaking as I sit down. I’m shaking as Josh glances at the maître d’ with a look of unmistakable gratitude. Does that glance mean what I want it to mean?
“Where’s Kurt?” Josh asks.
“He’s out with some new friends. Underground. It’s a long story.”
Josh lifts his eyebrows in surprise as the rest of the table beams at me – St. Clair, Anna and Meredith. “Wow,” I say. “The gang’s all here.”
“Everyone but Rashmi,” St. Clair says.
Anna gives him a swift kick below the table, but I catch it. “It’s okay,” I say awkwardly. At least it’s answered a question. They know about my history with Josh. I glance at the three empty seats. “Is she coming?”
“One of those was for Kurt,” Josh says, and I’m touched.
“The others are for our friends who got us into the Olympics,” Anna says. “We split up today, and they’re still out sightseeing. They should be here any minute.”
“Friends from California?” I grab the opportunity to show them that I’m not completely in the dark. Just mostly.
She nods. “Yeah, Lola and Cricket. Étienne and I—”
“Étienne,” Josh says, and Meredith cracks up.
“They’re teasing me because I’m the only person who calls him that,” Anna explains.
“You’re the only person allowed to call him that,” Josh says. “You and his mom.”
St. Clair smiles. “The only two ladies I need.”
“That’s sick,” Meredith says, but she’s still laughing. She has a wonderful, friendly laugh. A tiny nose ring catches the light and twinkles. Everything about her is cheerful.
It’s unreal to be surrounded here, in person, by his friends. Those faces from his artwork.
Anna is one of those naturally beautiful girls who has no idea that she’s beautiful. She dresses in jeans and T-shirts, and she has this gap-toothed smile and a bleached stripe in her long brown hair. She’s comfortable in her own skin. Her boyfriend is also beautiful, but he’s aware of it. Not that St. Clair acts like a jerk. He’s just loaded with confidence. He’s short, but it’s never gotten in his way. Nearly every girl at school was in love with him, not to mention most of the guys and half the professeurs.
But I was never in love with him. Not when Josh was around.
Anna clears her throat. “Anyway. Étienne and I—”
Josh and Meredith snicker.
Anna grins. “—work with Lola at a movie theatre. Cricket is her boyfriend, and Cricket’s twin sister is Calliope Bell. The figure skater?”
My eyebrows shoot up. “I’ve seen her face on about a billion advertisements.”
“That’s the one. She’s going for the gold.”
“And you’re all here to cheer her on?” I glance at Josh. He appears to be calm, but it’s superficial. A frenetic energy is pulsating from his core. Vibrating against me. I rub my arms, hair on end, but the others don’t seem to notice.
“Sort of.” St. Clair shrugs. It’s slow and full-bodied, very French. Maman has the same one. “Mainly we’re using it as an excuse to visit.”
I turn to Meredith. “Did you come in from Rome? That’s where you’re attending university, right?”
“Yeah.” She puts an arm around Josh and her curly head on his shoulder, but they’re clearly gestures of friendship. “When I heard everyone was coming, I couldn’t resist.”
“And you?” I don’t look at Josh. He knows the question is for him.
He can’t meet my eyes either. “Same for me, I guess. Couldn’t resist.”
St. Clair waggles his eyebrows at Josh, but the moment he sees that I’ve caught him, his expression changes to a flirtatious grin. “Aw, mate,” he says to Josh. “Admit it. You couldn’t resist me.”
Josh relaxes into a smile. “You’re like a gorgeous little bonbon.”
“Delicious in every way,” St. Clair says.
Anna rolls her eyes. “Wait until you try his creamy centre.”
St. Clair bursts into laughter as Meredith squeals. The chemistry between the four of them is as if they hadn’t spent a day apart. My heart squeezes, but it’s not from jealousy. It’s out of happiness for Josh’s sake. He leans across the table to jostle St. Clair, but he knocks against my arm instead.
“Sorry,” Josh says quickly. His voice turns strained. He sits, and the jovial mood crashes down with him, but his touch shudders through me in waves.
Longing. As fierce and powerful as ever.
I look away, not wanting him to see how badly I wish he would touch me again. And then I discover a strange apparition outside the restaurant’s window. I blink. It’s still there. In the winter, the streets of Paris are grey and the coats that walk them are black.
So this…this is like…
“The circus,” Josh says, finishing my thought out loud. “It’s like the circus has come to town.”
“Brilliant,” St. Clair says. “That must be Lola and Cricket.”
A boy and a girl enter the restaurant. The boy is ridiculously tall and skinny – far more extreme than Josh – and it’s only emphasized by the tightness of his pinstriped pants. He could almost be wearing stilts. He’s wearing a bright blue military jacket, and his wrists are covered in rainbow-coloured bracelets and rubber bands. The girl is wearing a gigantic, poufy skirt with pink and yellow and turquoise crinoline peeking out from underneath. She also has a military jacket, Vietnam-era army green, but hers has been decorated with pink glitter. And she has matching pink hair.