Page 64 of Thirty Days in Paris

‘Excusez moi,’ she said to Juliet, barely registering her, and went to put the papers on the table next to the assistant, rattling off instructions in that familiar voice.

Corinne. In a chocolate-brown sweater dress and high suede boots, confident, soignée, as chic as she ever had been. Juliet stood patiently until they had finished their conversation, then Corinne swept away back into the office and shut the door. Like Jean Louis, she hadn’t recognised Juliet. Of course she hadn’t. She hadn’t given her any attention at all.

The assistant smiled up at her. ‘Dix heures? Demain?’ Ten o’clock tomorrow morning.

‘Perfect. Thank you.’

She breathed in as the assistant wrote the appointment down on a card and handed it to her with a smile.

‘Monsieur Beaubois will see you there.’

Juliet called in to She Cried Champagne for lunch, and to tell Nathalie she had made an appointment.

‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Nathalie asked, bringing her a glass of white Bordeaux and a slab of terrine studded with apricots and pistachios. ‘I totally will.’

For a moment, Juliet was tempted to have her friend’s back-up. Jean Louis wouldn’t stand a chance with Nathalie in tow. Juliet almost laughed at the thought – Nathalie wouldn’t pull her punches. But this was her battle. She had to have the courage to face him by herself.

‘That’s fine. But I’ll be OK.’

‘Call me straight after.’

‘Of course!’

‘In fact, come over to my apartment. It’s my morning at home doing admin.’

‘Yes,’ said Juliet. ‘We need to get started on the book.’

Nathalie hesitated. ‘Are you sure? I mean, you have your own to worry about.’

‘Of course I’m sure. That’s why I didn’t tell you about it.’

‘I have so many ideas, but they’re all whirling around my head. I need you to help me focus.’

‘That is exactly my job,’ Juliet said, smiling.

The thought of harnessing Nathalie’s energy and channelling it onto the page filled her with excitement. And that was what she was good at: capturing the spirit of a person and finding a way to share it with readers. Establishing order from the chaos.

When she got back to her apartment later that afternoon, she sat down and began an email to a publisher she’d worked with before on a couple of celebrity food books. She loved Molly’s energy and thought she would fall in love with Nathalie. She was young and ambitious and confident enough to take risks. It was worth a try.

Dear Molly,

I’m writing to you from Paris, the City of Lights. A glorious month all to myself, drifting among the pavement cafés, devouring hot chocolate and sinful cocktails and growing plump on cheese and pains au raisin. And I’ve fallen across an old friend, Nathalie du Chêne, who has a little bar ‘bistronomique’ called She Cried Champagne. I know, right – don’t you just want to go there already?

Anyway, her story is really inspiring, and the food she serves is out of this world but super simple. Imagine the most divine grilled goat’s cheese drizzled with truffle honey and served with bitter leaves. I expect you know where this is going … Her story would make such a great book, with recipes, of course, and I wanted to share the idea with you first as we have done so many successful projects together and you know how I work. I’m attaching a link to her website, and would love to talk to you more, if it tantalises you.

Bisous, as they say here!

Juliet x

It might come to nothing, she thought, as she pressed send. But if she had learned anything in life it was to be bold, to play to your strengths and to use your contacts.

She checked her phone for the millionth time to see if Olivier had made contact, but there was nothing. She had to come to terms with not hearing from him again. At least she had been honest. At least she hadn’t lured him back under false pretences. She felt wistful, thinking back to the day they had spent together, and what might have been.

She decided to go for a run. It might clear her head and make her feel less melancholy. She smiled at herself – was she going to come back from this trip a committed jogger? Not that she had been very committed, but the very fact that a run appealed was surprising. Maybe Stuart had been right all along about this fitness lark? She wondered how he was getting along, and decided to send a text.

Hey. You’d be proud of me. Putting on my trainers to go for a run along the Seine. How are things going? Xx

She was just about to head out of the door when her phone rang. It was Stuart.

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