Page 70 of From Paris, with Butter
“Still, please.”
If she’d said sparkling, that would have solved the problem, but I still had other options. I smiled at Austin, trying to convey that everything would be fine. He looked faintly green.
I brought out their drinks, and as the courses began rolling out, Austin started to relax. He and Jackie giggled over inside jokes together, discussed the food, pulled out a map of the city and marked the places they wanted to visit tomorrow.
The talk of tomorrow—when the proposal would be over and they’d be happily engaged—seemed to breathe new confidence into Austin.
He’d asked for photos of the proposal, which Yasmine would be taking care of, but after I brought their fourth course out, I ran to the staff room to get my phone and snap a few surreptitious photos of them. They looked so young and happy sitting there, heads bent together as the sun set over Paris behind them.
Before I brought out the final course, I asked if either of them wanted something else to drink. Austin returned to looking like a deer in headlights and requested another glass of champagne. He looked desperately at Jackie, willing her to follow his decision. But she just smiled sweetly and ordered an Orangina.
I almost winced myself at that. I certainly wouldn’t be dropping a diamond ring in a glass of that cloudy orange juice so the poor girl might swallow it before realizing anything was amiss.
But it was fine; I knew exactly how I was going to handle this. A glass of champagne, on the house, and as she went to clink glasses with Austin, she’d notice something sparkling amidst the bubbles in her glass and then…Well, after that, Austin would probably be happy to buy his new fiancée all the Orangina she could ever drink.
I again smiled reassuringly at Austin. He grimaced in return. In the staff room, I took the ring box from where it was being kept in the safe, poured two glasses of champagne, and dropped the ring in one of them. It looked lovely, the diamond sparkling amidst the champagne.
They probably will want a photo of that, too,I thought, snapping a few.
“Ready?” I asked Yasmine, who was coming in with a stack of empty plates.She patted her pocket, and I saw the outline of her phone.
The two glasses in hand, I paused for a second, savoring the anticipation. With a jolt of surprise, I realized I hadn’t thought about Laurent for nearly an hour. I was actually even a tiny bit happy right now. I straightened my skirt, then walked out to the dining room. Poor Austin looked at me like I was the Grim Reaper himself, but he’d be alright soon. Better than alright, in fact.
“Perrier Jouët Grand Brut,” I said smoothly, setting a glass before Austin. “And one on the house for you, Mademoiselle,” I said, putting the other glass—the key glass—in front of Jackie.
She looked confused for a moment, then smiled politely, clearly not wanting the champagne but not wanting to appear rude. That was fine; she’d understand what was happening in just a moment. I took a discreet step to the side, so Yasmine had a clear shot of the couple.
“Cheers to us, Jackie,” Austin said, his voice shaky.
Jackie lifted her glass to his, then frowned, peering at it. My heart quickened.
“There’s something in it…” she said, turning the glass around to try to get a better look.
Austin shot up like his chair was on fire. “Here! Let me get that for you.” In his nervousness, he practically ripped the glass from Jackie’s hands. But once he was holding the still-full glass of champagne, he suddenly looked lost.
Our eyes met. I saw him start to reach his hand inside the full glass—a terrible idea—and shook my head. I indicated the empty water glass (which I had purposely not refilled) at his place. Austin caught on quickly enough and dumped nearly all the champagne into the cup, until just the ring was left, sitting in a tiny pool of bubbles. He fished it out, and kneeled beside Jackie.
“Jackie Rees, you make me the happiest man on the face of this Earth…”
It happened slowly. Jackie had looked shocked when Austin began his speech, but as he kept going, pouring out the reasons he loved her, her expression didn’t change to delight. Her eyes remained wide, her body tense.
Austin hadn’t noticed. He plowed through the whole of his speech and was now kneeling in silence. The ring he clutched in his fingers had begun dripping onto the carpet. He was still beaming.
I turned toward Yasmine. She was watching the scene with growing horror. Her phone dangled from her hand, forgotten.
Austin reached for Jackie’s limp hand. She didn’t resist. He went to place the ring on her finger, and I let out a sigh of relief. She was just surprised, that’s all. Everything was fine.
Jackie seemed to suddenly realize what was happening. In a quick, jerky motion, she pulled her hand back. Someone at another table gasped quietly. From the corner of my vision, I saw that the entire restaurant had turned to see what was happening: a slow-motion trainwreck.
Austin’s face was partially obscured from my view, but I still witnessed the range of emotions he went through: confusion, surprise, a hint of a smile (perhaps she was just joking?), then dawning horror as he caught up with the rest of us. He looked at Jackie.
“No?”
He barely made a sound.
The only person in Le Jules Verne who looked more miserable than him was Jackie. Silent tears ran down her face, and I could feel her reluctance to hurt this man in front of her.
She shook her head. Two tears splashed down onto the hand Austin still held, ready to slide the ring on.
