Page 36 of The Paris Trip

Before he’d taken over, he had never thought much about the people preparing his meals or serving him drinks at the bar, or considered the business side whenever he paid a bill. His only world had been painting. He had been a blinkered, self-obsessed idiot.

Now things had swung too far the other way though, and he was lucky if he could spare a few minutes to think about art occasionally. And it was turning his world grey.

With noisy greetings above the sounds of a busy kitchen, they all shook hands and discussed how business was going, while Pierre continued to dress plates for customers and Anton chopped fish heads, whistling as he prepared a spicy bouillabaisse for tomorrow’s Plat Du Jour.

On his way back to the table, he encountered Jean, a wiping cloth over one shoulder, juggling dirty plates from a table he’d been clearing.

‘That was a good meal,’ he told his cousin, ‘thank you. I don’t think we’ll bother with dessert though. We’ll just have coffee and head back to the château.’

Jean frowned. ‘Must you leave so soon? You see how busy we are, and that’s largely down to you being here.’

‘Me?’

‘You’re still a big name in Paris, Leo. You bring in the custom. Especially when you have such a lovely young lady with you.’ He glanced towards Maeve. ‘It’s got everyone’s tongues wagging, wondering who she is.’

‘Oh, come on, Jean. I doubt anyone’s interested in who’s having dinner with me.’

‘Don’t be naïve. Look around.’

Nettled, Leo glanced about the bar, and realised with a shock that his cousin was correct. People were indeed looking round at him and Maeve. The curiosity in the air was palpable.

‘I hear Liselle is setting you up with Sascha for a new exhibition soon,’ Jean went on, also watching him avidly. ‘I didn’t know you were painting again. Congratulations.’

Leo’s gaze arrowed back to his cousin’s face. ‘You know perfectly well I haven’t been painting. It’s a mistake on Liselle’s part even to have spoken to Sascha without checking with me first. I don’t have any new work to exhibit and she knows it.’

‘Is that so? But if the little Englishwoman will sit for you…’ Jean winked.

Leo felt a surge of annoyance. ‘Keep your nose out of my business,’ he said flatly. ‘Is that clear?’

‘Whatever you say, boss,’ his cousin replied, his tone surly as he pushed through the swing doors.

Wishing that people would stop interfering in his life, Leo made his way back to the table.

‘Come on then… You still haven’t told me why you haven’t been painting,’ Maeve said impatiently as he sat down opposite. ‘I’m beginning to think you brought me here on false pretenses.’

She was tenacious, he had to give her that.

But Leo felt cornered, staring at her as he struggled to respond without letting anything too personal slip. Was that even possible though?

Thankfully, he was saved by the coffee arriving, courtesy of a young waitress he didn’t know. But he knew he couldn’t put this off forever.

‘Give me a minute,’ he muttered.

She pushed his cup of coffee towards him. ‘Maybe this will help.’

‘Thanks.’ He took a sip and grimaced. ‘After my brother died,’ he began slowly, ‘my inspiration died with him. Francis despised art and painting. You would think it would have been a liberation. But I was forced to take over the family business and that became my life. There was no more time for painting. A few months ago, I set up a studio at the château and decided to produce some new work.’ He stared at nothing, remembering. ‘But I ended up just standing there, paintbrush in hand, staring at a blank canvas.’

Tentatively, she placed her hand on top of his, and he jerked at the unexpected contact. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I had no idea.’

‘That’s because nobody outside the family knows. They still think of me as Leo Rémy, famous artist,’ he said bitterly. ‘People stop me in the street and ask when my next exhibition will be.’

‘But you said… You want to paint me?’

His heart thumped uncomfortably. ‘Yes.’

‘How strange.’ She removed her hand, frowning. ‘Though I suppose it wouldn’t hurt for you to try again. And I’ve got nothing better to do at the moment.’

Unexpected joy swept through him as he realised she was agreeing to let him paint her. ‘You’re serious?’ His eye caught by a gleam of light, he spotted Jean on the other side of the bar, staring in their direction and lowering his phone. His brows contracted. ‘Excuse me a moment again, would you?’

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