Page 29 of Thirty Days in Paris

Nathalie blinked. ‘How did you know?’

‘When I left yesterday, I started thinking what a great story She Cried Champagne would make. I was going to suggest it to you. And now you’ve told me about Gigi too, I’m even more convinced.’

‘Oh my God. It’s meant to be, right?’

‘Maybe it’s synchro-destiny? Maybe, when I saw you in that magazine, something made me get back in touch for a reason?’

‘Synchro-destiny, fate, luck – I don’t care what it was. I’m just so thrilled you think it’s a good idea.’

‘I do. But tell me your vision. How you see the book. What makes it special? What makes it stand out?’

Juliet was asking the questions she always asked her clients, for she knew if they couldn’t answer them, it would be hard to find the magic.

Nathalie took a gulp of wine and looked around the room for a moment before starting to speak.

‘I see it like a diary and a recipe book and a wine guide and a love letter to Paris. Very intimate and revealing and raw – all the tears that went into She Cried Champagne, like Gigi dying, but also the laughter. And the people. All their stories. My staff and my customers and the people I buy from. All the mistakes I made and the arguments I had and how I nearly walked away ten million times but something drove me to carry on.’ Nathalie was nearly in tears, overwhelmed by the emotion. ‘It was so tough, but if I inspire one other person to live their dream, it will be worth it. And if not, they can have a little bit of my dream in their own home. They can make my grilled crottin, or my crème brûlée, and pretend they are there with me. I want great photographs but great words too. I want to make people cry. I want them to feel everything I felt. My frustration, my fear, my terror. But also my joy. I want them to feel my joy.’

She sat back, exhausted.

Juliet nodded.

‘I can see it. Even better, I can feel it.’ She put her fist to her stomach. ‘There aren’t many projects I can feel in my gut. And I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t get that tingle of excitement. I would love to help you. I think it would almost write itself. Although …’ She held up a finger. ‘A book like this is complicated. It’s a competitive market. There’s a lot of technical skill that goes into making it balanced. There’s a lot to think about.’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ said Nathalie. ‘It’s always the simple things that need the most care. I know that better than anyone. There’s nothing to hide behind.’

‘Exactly. But we can put together a proposal. Write as much of it as we can.’

‘I have a photographer I’d love to use. One of my waitresses. Her work is very stylish but playful. She embraces imperfection – makes something a little rough around the edges look more appetising.’

‘I’m all for that,’ said Juliet. ‘Perfection is so intimidating.’ She held out her hand for Nathalie to shake. ‘I’m here until the end of the month. Let’s see what we can do.’

‘What about your fee? I’m not expecting a favour. I want to be businesslike.’

‘This would be a passion project for me. Something I really believe in. I think you’ve got it all in there. I’d just guide you.’

Nathalie looked doubtful. ‘OK. But while you’re here, you can eat at the bar any time you like. On me.’

Juliet sat back with a smile. ‘Fair exchange is no robbery.’

She was genuinely excited. She hadn’t mentioned her own book to Nathalie. Not yet. She knew Nathalie would worry she was taking away from her time. But Juliet was used to juggling. She could manage them both.

The waitress arrived with their starters – plump balls of creamy burrata with olive oil and basil – and they tore into them with groans of delight. For the rest of the meal, they just chatted lightly, enjoying each other’s company, remembering what it was they loved about each other and why they made each other laugh. They took a selfie in front of their towering lobster linguine for two and sent it to Izzy.

‘I can’t wait for you to meet her. You’ll love her.’ Juliet imagined the three of them in Paris. ‘You’d love Nate too, he’s a sweetheart, but he’s not going to want to go to Angelique’s for hot chocolate or try on shoes.’

‘Send her to work for me,’ suggested Nathalie. ‘She’d have a ball.’

‘I might hold you to that,’ said Juliet.

As their coffee arrived, Nathalie tapped her spoon on the edge of her cup.

‘OK, so I’ve had several glasses of wine and so have you. It’s time to talk about the elephant in the room.’ She looked into Juliet’s eyes.

Juliet swallowed. ‘You mean Olivier.’

‘Was it something he did? Is that why you left?’

‘Oh my God, no.’

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