Page 10 of These Thin Lines

“I’ve never seen this breed. Or the color.” Vi extended her hand again to try to pet the now-dry cat, only to have it swipe a paw at her once again.

“Ah, ah, ah, play nice… Binoche, that’s your savior right there.” The cat struggled out of Chiara’s hands and sat down on the towel to wash herself.

“Binoche?” Vi was pretty sure she’d misheard. “That’s a strange name for a cat. And it rhymes with brioche.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Vi wanted to take them back, to sink through the floor. Why did things just escape her lips like that?

The cat gave Vi the dirtiest look possible and turned away from both women, continuing her task. Chiara’s expression mirrored the cat’s.

“You philistine! Juliette Binoche isthenational treasure of French cinema. And she happens to have starred in—”

“Chocolat!” Vi smiled widely, pleased with herself for remembering and following Chiara’s thought process behind naming the cat, who clearly didn’t want anything to do with them, despite her injury.

“Well, maybe not all is lost with you.” Chiara’s lower lip actually turned down in a pout, the beautiful mouth arranging itself into an irresistible expression. Vi, for the second time in as many minutes, gawked.

Chiara reached for the cat, and Binoche allowed herself to be picked up. For a minute, the woman and the cat just looked at each other, and Chiara sighed.

“An end of my half-year-long creative block, a concept for the new collection, and a cat. All in one day. You’re an overachiever, Ms. Courtenay. What am I to do with you?”

Despite not looking at her, Vi felt the words seep into every fiber of her being, their warmth, their slighthauteur.When Chiara finally did turn away from the purring cat, her pouting lips twitched with exasperation, then turned upwards in a smile, and Vi figured Chiara could do absolutely anything with her. Anything at all.

3

ONCE UPON A LATE NIGHT

Genevieve Courtenay was tired, out of breath, and run ragged. Her plans for showing up for the family dinner at the penthouse were evaporating before her eyes. Not that she really wanted to go. But she knew that, just this once—because he had been this weirdly insistent she take the job—her father would be curious about how her first week had gone.

And while Vi might have, at one time, had some delusions that he’d be interested for her sake, she’d abandoned that fantasy long ago.

No, Charles Courtenay would want to know if she’d embarrassed him with any of the important people. Or whether she had done the family name proud. Or if they’d asked about her connections to the royal family of Savoy. All of which felt like lead in her stomach.

It wasn’t like her being the niece of King Aleric or cousin to Princess Allegra was a secret. The Courtenay’s line and the Savoy line had intersected when Charles had married King Aleric’s younger sister. But since her mother’s death at Vi’s birth, the Savoys hadn’t exactly been close or in any way present in her life. That her father still traded on their name—including in this particular case—had Vi mystified.

It also made her apprehensive that, at any moment, Aoife or Frankie or Chiara might ask her about them. So far, no one had. Aoife teased her about her royal connections, calling her jokinglyLady Rae, but clearly couldn’t care less. Frankie might as well have been nonexistent for all the time she spent at theHausand had never mentioned them. And Chiara… Well, Chiara… Vi tried very hard not to think about her. Out of self-preservation, if nothing else.

Somebody’s wife, somebody’s wife.

She rounded the corner of the Rue Saint-Honoré opposite the immense Longchamps store and paid no mind to the sparkling displays of beautiful watches. Her mind returned to her father, who had an impressive collection of timepieces. And kept acquiring new ones. Vi didn’t know how. Or why, for that matter.

Well, thewhyprobably had a lot to do with the Savoys, who no longer received the Courtenays. And the Courtenays—who held the English Earldom of Rae—still played at beingsomeones. Vi rolled her eyes at the shallowness.

Living so far beyond their means that it should be criminal was the Courtenay’s forte. If anyone knew how to get into every ballroom and party and be invited to all the major events of the year in New York, London or Paris, it was her family.

Vi really couldn’t quite complain, since her current employment situation was entirely due to her last name. Yet, she still went home to her shoebox attic of an apartment in Montmartre, whereas the rest of her family lived large on the Place Dauphine, a stone’s throw away from Lilien Haus.

Vi sped up her tired steps and decided that pondering their irresponsible behavior was really not her problem. If her father wanted to take on more debt than was perhaps legal, and if he kept lying to all those people latching on to him for his name and titles, they deserved what they got.

None of her business…

She took the stairs up to Aoife’s floor two at a time. The call from the production house had come just as she’d been debating how to start her lunch—with the fries or the sandwich—and thus she’d had to forgo both as she spent her afternoon running around the 3rdarrondissement, tracking down various pieces for Aoife’s crew of seamstresses.

“I heard you moved mountains, kid!” Her supervisor was sewing cheerfully, and her voice was muffled by her face being almost level with the needle going in and out of what looked like Mulberry Silk.

The things one learned on this job.

“I think it’s all straightened out now, boss.” Vi longingly looked around the various surfaces to locate the food she’d left behind earlier. None was to be seen.

“Well then, Courtenay, you’re not just a good gopher, but also a magician. Because almost half of those women are lesbians, and I have no idea how you managed to straighten them out, but kudos to you.” The cheerful cackling that followed was already so endearing and familiar, although Vi had only been there a week.

“Also, I may joke about these magical powers of yours, but let me tell you, in my years of working with that crew, I am yet to resolve matters in the speedy and efficient way you have today. And really all week. Are you after my job, kid?”

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