Page 16 of The Artist
“Right.” I didn’t remember but it seemed to matter to him, so I went along when he asked:
“So, how have you been, Belle?”
“Fine. Busy. I work a lot.”
“With babies, right? Aubri told me.”
I angled my head. “That’s right.”
“I also heard that you paint and that you teach children art on a voluntary basis.”
“Aubri told you that?”
“Well, no – sort of. Aubri told Mason, who told me when I asked him about you.”
My brows lifted. “I’m surprised Mason would care to remember that much about me.”
Jones folded and unfolded his arms and shifted his balance. “We’ve all been looking forward to this year’s summit.”
“Me too.”
“I know you have a tight program but if you want to see some of the area, I’d be happy to show you. We… ehm… my family that is… we live on an island not far from here. You’ll be visiting the school there tomorrow. It’s the school of inclusion.”
“Yes, I remember. We went there the first time we came to the Northlands.”
“That was nine years ago. Much has happened since then. The school is bigger now and there are ten children from Old Europe too.”
I smiled. “I’m aware. It was a major deal when our prime minister decided to participate with ten students. People weren’t happy about it.”
“Oh, but the French children are thriving here,” Jones assured me just as Mason walked past and then he hurried to add, “I was thinking that since you’re visiting our island maybe we could go for a walk or something.”
Mason stopped abruptly and turned his head to us. “Jones, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m just talking with Belle.”
Mason moved closer. “No, you’re asking her to spend time with you alone. Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“I was just being friendly,” Jones insisted in a defensive manner.
“In which universe did you think we would let you take little Belle on a stroll through the woods?”
“She’s not a Northlander. She can decide for herself.”
“Please don’t call me little,” I told Mason, but he wasn’t listening to me. His finger was pointing straight at Jones’ face.
“I’m telling you to stay away from her, do you understand?”
“What’s going on?” Indiana and his father Alexander joined us.
“Jones was trying to convince Belle to go for a walk with him in the woods and I told him to fuck off.”
“Why? He won’t harm her,” Indiana defended his younger brother and lowered his voice. “Maybe they would hit it off together.”
Mason scowled at the three men and crossed his arms while I looked on with my eyes wide open. I’d never had men argue over me and looked on in wonder as Indiana leaned closer to Mason and whispered, “You’re forgetting that unlike you and the others, Jones and I don’t have to marry a Northlander.”
“She’s French, they don’t marryanyone,” Mason sneered.
As if it wasn’t enough to have four giant Nmen talking about me, Victor, who was the leader of our French delegation, came over. “What’s the problem?”
