Page 14 of Take Hold of Me

5

Emilie

“Merci.” I exit the car service carrying some shopping bags, the bright blue sky overhead reminding me of a certain former bodyguard’s eyes. If only Wills had agreed to take me for another driving lesson today. When he dropped me off yesterday after lunch, he could not get away from me quick enough.

Sighing, I follow the flower-lined bluestone pathway to the front door of my Spanish-style bungalow, formerly owned by an actress from the Golden Age of Hollywood. When my accountant insisted I purchase a house, any house, I considered buying a flat in Paris but decided on LA instead. While Paris will always be my home, this is where I need to be based now. Hollywood studios, magazine headquarters, fashion houses. Wills. They all are nearby.

Fumbling through my tote, I locate my house keys and open the hand-carved mahogany door. Before I cross the threshold, my cell blaresLa Marseillaise, the French national anthem. I pick up the FaceTime call. “Bonjour, Maman.”

Her smiling face appears on my screen. “Allô, Emsy. How are things in Los Angeles? That is where you are, right?”

I smile. My mother always has difficulty keeping track of my schedule. “Oui, I am in my new house. The renovations are all done.” I close the door behind me and place my tote and shopping bags on the coffee table. “Of course, it is not Paris, but it is still nice.”

“Have you hung up the artwork I sent you yet?”

I pan the camera on my phone to the gorgeous hand drawing of the shops on the Avenue des Champs Elysées. “Oui. It graces thesalon, and I see it every day.” I love how the colors in the drawing compliment my cream-colored walls. And I can almost smell the freshly-made croissants.

“Perfect. Now tell me what is on your mind. We may be separated by many kilometers, but I can still see you thinking.”

She knows me so well. I need a coffee. “You are right,Maman.” Passing through an archway to the kitchen, I fill her in on my meeting with MonsieurPrice a couple of days ago.

“You have nothing to worry about. You now have the top executive directing your career. He is a true expert—he won’t steer you wrong. Just do asMonsieurPrice says.”

I nod into the screen and begin to set up the coffeemaker. “You are right, as usual. I will do my best. I have been rehearsing my lines for the commercial and making notes about suggestions that I hope to bring up to the team.”

“You always are on top of things. I’m sure they will appreciate your input, but don’t be too pushy about it. After all, they paid a professional to write the lines.” She pauses. “Mybébéis traveling the world and will be on both the small and large screens.Papaand I are so proud of you.” She blows me a kiss through the phone.

While the machine works, our conversation detours to catching up on the gossip around Paris, including the band my little brother is fronting. Gerard’s group caught the ear of a record producer, but he did not like the deal and turned the offer down. He believes something better will come and is holding out. For his part, Papais doing well at work and Maman keeps very busy with her office and running the house. Even after thirty years of marriage, the love between the two of them shines.

I want that.

I am brought out of a daydream involving Wills when she says, “Rinaldo’s team is playing very well.” Her choice of topic should not surprise me. Maman loves football, what Americans call “soccer.” When I got together with Rinaldo years ago, she was ecstatic—the free game tickets he gave her did not hurt, either.

“I am happy for him.” I reach into the cabinet and select the mug my friend, sometime roommate and fellow model Val gave me. It saysI woke up like this.I smile remembering when she gave it to me—both of us had our hair in ponytails, wore no makeup and were hungover.

“Have you seen Rinaldo lately?” Her eyes take on a familiar glint when talking about my ex-boyfriend.

I pour the hot caféinto my mug and let it cool down. “Not since I did that photoshoot in Barcelona a few months ago.”

“Oh, too bad. You two made such a lovely couple.” She looks down and then back into the camera. “Well, maybe you’ll see him when you’re in Spain again.”

Rinaldo is what the Americans call aloose end. Tall, dark and very handsome—and the youngest captain elected to represent his football team—he is the epitome of a perfect man. Yet, my heart does not urge me to reconnect with him like it is pushing me toward Wills. “Maman,Rinaldo and I broke up a long time ago because our schedules were out of synch. And nothing has changed. If anything, I am even more on the go now, assuming my bookings pick back up.”

“I am sure they will.” After a moment’s pause, she asks, “If not Rinaldo, are you seeing anyone new?”

I busy myself by pulling a spoon out of the drawer while visions of Wills protecting me from prying eyes at the restaurant yesterday play across my mind. “No…” My voice trails off and the spoon clinks on the counter.

On my screen, her eyes widen. “I knew it. You have that look about you.”

Playing with my hair, I sigh. I cannot hide anything from Maman. “I keep thinking of Wills. He is teaching me to drive.”

“Cole’s former bodyguard?

“Oui.”

“Are you two dating?”

I give her a weak smile. “No.” He made that perfectly clear when he turned down my offer to join me tonight at the club opening. And to take me driving today. But there is more than one way to pet a cat, as the American saying goes. I raise my chin. “Not yet.”

---