between Aunt Evelyn and Girard. My thread was thin in comparison to theirs, the width of one of Auntie Ning’s chunky yarns for her crochet projects. It didn’t matter how it looked, I only cared that it was there.
I loved this man and he loved me. For the girl who grew up devouring romance novels, I finally had a chance to write my own.
Destiny was mine to shape. Love was the only business I wanted to be in. There was no greater cause than giving people the joy of finding their soul mates.
Epilogue
One year later, in Paris
Le Papillon Bleu was busier than I remembered. Marc and I walked up to the mosaic mural of the blue butterflies hand in hand. We landed in Paris the night before, and settled into a nearby hotel. The jet lag wasn’t as horrible as the last time I landed in the city.
I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Do you ever want to come back and work here?”
“It depends on where you’ll be after you graduate.” He kissed the top of my head and pulled me closer.
“If I pass. Madam Fong is hard to read, but said I have at least another six months left, if I work hard. We’ve been away from family for too long.” I turned my head and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I’m glad we squeezed in the visit to Montreal to see your family.”
“I can’t believe Dad asked you for tax and investment advice.” Marc sighed. “I told him you’re not doing that anymore, but he always needs more opinions. He collects them like basketball jerseys.”
“I don’t mind. I talk to Ma and the aunties often enough to get a gist of what the general trends are investment-wise. I don’t miss being glued to my desk though.” We stopped at the entrance of the restaurant.
I adjusted the collar of his charcoal sports jacket and gave the hem a little tug while Marc tucked a stray strand of auburn-brown hair behind my ear. I smoothed down the short silk charmeuse skirt of my scarlet strapless gown. My aunt had established the dress code when she sent the invitation. The meal she and Girard promised would be spectacular to mark the occasion.
“Shall we go?” I asked.
He offered me his arm and we walked inside.
After Marc chatted with some familiar faces, the host led us through the busy dining room and toward one of the private rooms. The last time we were here, we were in the Mucha room. This time, the door opened to the Lalique room. Inside, Aunt Evelyn and Girard waited for us along with Uncle Michael and Jack. All were dressed for the occasion: tailored suits and a sparkling silver off-the-shoulder gown on my aunt. I was soon surrounded by cheek kisses and embraces.
Once we all took our places at the table, the questions began.
“We are all dying to know how your studies are going.” Uncle Michael handed me a Bellini.
I thanked him and took a dainty sip. The drink wasn’t too sweet and it was refreshing. “I think Madam Fong likes me? She appreciates that I work hard, and underneath the general crabbiness, I think she respects me.”
“I take it that the Mandarin lessons Marc’s been giving you haven’t stuck?” Jack asked with a chuckle.
“No. I’m fine living my life knowing only English and mangling it most days. I have him as a translator wherever I go anyway. It comes in handy.” I gave my boyfriend a saucy grin. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all.” Marc kissed my cheek. “In addition to being a translator, I also cook. I know the way to her heart is through her stomach.”
“It’s the open secret that applies to everyone in the family.” Aunt Evelyn nodded.
Girard added, “When we visited California last summer, I think I spent more time eating than I did talking to family.”
“I was introduced during a wedding. Ten courses of food to keep the conversation flowing. What I want to know is if both of you got to taste Gloria’s specialty dish?” Jack asked.
Marc and Girard both replied yes at the same time.
I sipped my aperitif. “It’s because you’re all handsome. Our family is shallow. No one wants to admit it.”
“She’s not incorrect.” Aunt Evelyn laughed. “Now tell us how your matchmaking education is coming along.”
“It’s been nonstop since last year, and the lessons have been challenging. Like your lessons, except it’s for matchmaking. I’m behind where Madam Fong expects a student of