Page 59 of Brooke
The flattery at the tail end of his request helped. “Normally I’d say I couldn’t sketch them, but since you put it that way, I can handle it. That’s more informal.”
“Exactly.”
He realized he could stand there talking with Axel all day. “All right, I’m outta here. Now, be good to Brooke or else it’sdemain à l’aube.”
Axel’s deep rumble of laughter accompanied him to the main door. On the street, Sawyer gave in to the urge to hug his painting to himself. Then he laughed. Thea had done that with her wedding dress. Well, it wasn’t too different, he supposed. The right wedding dress was a transformative work of art.
And so was a portrait, especially of a woman who deserved to be immortalized. Because many people had their portraits done, but few were worthy of it.
Nanine was, and he was all too happy to be the person who had captured her essence and would share it with the world.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
When Brooke noticed the large rental space newly available in Saint-Germain later that day, she immediately crossed the street on the way to a meeting.
She remembered the original store, known for its high-end furniture and interior design. Stopping in front of the window showcasing oodles of empty space, she read the sign about the store relocating to another part of Paris to expand for their customers.
Axel’s image rose in her mind. Three floors of wide-open, well-lit space. She peeked into the windows on the naked first floor.
Her insides started humming.
Dean might say she was feeling kismet, but Brooke was only willing to admit her gut was telling her something. She was a New Yorker, after all.
Eyeing her watch, she realized she had a few minutes to walk around to the side street and take in the rest of the space. Pedestrians passed her, one of them eating a baguette out of the bread bag, which only made her stomach growl.She’d skipped breakfast after her morning run-in with her father and Nanine, too in shock to eat. But now she was on fire.
Axel needed to see this space. She hadn’t yet talked to him about her ideas for his diversification. He hadn’t raised it yet, and she figured they were still getting to know each other and focusing on the house project. Every day, though, she worked on her notes about how he could create a line of his own, but she kept coming back to one item.
People didn’t just want a light fixture or a piece of furniture hand selected or created by Axel Erikson.
They wanted his vision.
But how to do that? Suddenly it all came together. He could design rooms down to the smallest detail. People would kill for an exclusive, one-of-a-kind Axel Erikson room. They’d stand in line around the block like it was the hottest property in Manhattan with a view of Central Park. There would be a waiting list for private showings if they chose that route.
They?
She needed to slow down. When had she started thinking of herself and Axel as a ‘they’? She started to stalk off in the direction of her meeting, but the throbbing in her gut had her coming back to the front door and taking a photo of the real estate information. Dialing Jean Luc, she took off down the sidewalk.
“Bonjour Brooke. Ça va?”
“Yes, and how are you?” she continued in French, and after he gave the requisite answer, she got down to brass tacks. “When you have the time, could you inquire about a property that’s come on the market in Saint-Germain? I’ll text the information to you after we finish.”
“As the lawyer for PRG, I would be delighted, of course, but also as a friend. Thea was dancing on the moon when shecame home after you spoke. I am happy you two were able to come back to each other.”
What a wonderful way to say it. “Nothing could keep us apart. You know how much I love her.”
“And her you. Where is the building of which you speak?”
She ran him through its location and heard him give a polite murmur.
“I did not know they were moving to a new location. It is a prime spot. Perhaps more space than the average store might want, but there are many stores that would kill to have it.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” She knew a few fashion designers who would walk over their dead mother to have a larger store in Paris. “I didn’t want to call the real estate agent to give them any whiff of who was asking since that always affects the price.”
“Yes, indeed.” He gave a low chuckle. “That is why you have your lawyer call and inquire. So much more civilized and discreet. I will inquire promptly and call you back.”
“Perfect.” She picked up her pace as she used a crosswalk. “I’ll be in a meeting but you can text me. Thank you, Jean Luc.”
