A Perfect Paris Christmas - Mandy Baggot Page 0,85
of items on the shelves. It really was a case of more was more here.
*
‘It is nice to meet you,’ Ethan said to Rach. He swallowed. He got the feeling that this woman did not trust him for some reason. She seemed to be inspecting him like she was trying to work out if he was a real person or a waxwork. He also got the impression that if he stood still long enough and led her to think he was indeed fake, she would then expect him to break out of that mould at any second and relieve her of her handbag.
‘I’m not going to lie. It’s strange to meet you,’ Rach answered.
‘Strange?’ he enquired. He looked to his table, checking that Keeley had got there and that Jeanne wasn’t dipping her fingers into anything she shouldn’t be.
‘Keeley doesn’t meet men on the street and start up a relationship with them that she hides from her best friend.’
‘A relationship?’ Ethan said, unable to stop a laugh from leaking out. ‘We—’
‘You had dinner with her. That’s a date. You went running with her. That’s a date too,’ Rach carried on. ‘Keeley’s very particular about who she lets in. Very particular. Get it?’
‘I am… getting it,’ Ethan answered. He swallowed. He wasn’t getting it. Was he being warned off? Warned off from what? He didn’t even know he was getting himself involved with anything like a relationship. Except, somehow, he did know. The anxiety he was currently trying to batten down was testament to the fact that it was definitely something.
‘You screw her around and I will come for you. Do you get that too?’ Rach asked, stepping towards him.
‘Got that,’ he answered.
Then, all at once, Rach’s expression altered and she smiled at him. ‘Good.’
‘May I get you some coffee? Or something stronger?’ Ethan offered.
‘Stronger coffee will be fine for me. Keeley, she’ll have decaf.’
Thirty-Eight
‘You were right about believing in Bo-Bo,’ Jeanne said, gleefully rubbing the dog’s head as Keeley sipped at her coffee.
There was something not quite right about this coffee. Since Keeley had been in Paris she had really enjoyed the French style of coffee, slurping up as many cups of it as she could. But this… she couldn’t quite put her finger on why it wasn’t quite as satisfying. It tasted a little like the decaf brand Lizzie thought she was still drinking.
‘I know,’ Keeley answered. ‘And I am very glad I was right.’
‘He surprised us all,’ Ethan added. ‘Pretending to be so sick and then arising like a Jack In the Box I am told.’
‘I’m sure it’s got fleas,’ Rach remarked, pulling up her jumper sleeves and scratching.
‘Oh, non,’ Jeanne said merrily. ‘That is most likely to be me.’ She swirled her straw in a large chocolate milkshake she was now drinking. ‘Parasites can actually help a little with the harsh weather in the winter. Keeping you warm.’
‘I hope you’re joking,’ Rach answered. She inched her seat away and focused on Ethan. ‘So, Ethan, what do you do for work?’
‘Rach!’ Keeley exclaimed. It sounded like her friend had turned into an overprotective parent who was sussing out the worthiness of a partner who wanted to propose.
‘He owns a hotel,’ Jeanne blurted out.
Keeley took a breath. That was not the occupation she was expecting. And a hotel owner. Somehow the two things didn’t marry up in her mind. Ethan’s slightly devil-may-care attitude and the organisational skill set a hotelier would need to succeed.
‘I am a part-owner,’ Ethan jumped in. ‘A very small stake in the business.’
‘But he’s a big enough deal to give me a room to live in.’
‘Jeanne. I—’ Ethan started.
‘What hotel?’ Rach jumped in. ‘How many stars?’
‘Rach!’ Keeley was starting to regret bringing Rach with her. She had actually adopted a very stern expression whenever Ethan had said anything and immediately asked a zillion questions like she was a reporter asking ridiculous things at a government briefing.
‘No, it is OK,’ Ethan reassured. ‘It is a hotel I helped to begin with my best friend. I mainly worked in the background, but now they have… left the business… I want to try and ensure the hotel is… how do people say these days?’ He smiled then. ‘Being the best version of itself.’
‘The hotel we’re staying in is nice,’ Keeley told him. ‘But—’
‘You told me the menu is a little too elaborate,’ he reminded. ‘A lot of small things.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I am interested for this because… I want to improve my hotel.’