Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Jacqueline waves her hand, unconcerned. “When I saw her in the workroom. I wanted to make sure she knew that she’d brought this on herself. She was quite mouthy, saying she’d rather work as an assistant her whole life than for a day as a designer at House Corbin.” She looks at me aghast, thinking I’ll take her side.
“Yes, I can understand why, given your actions.” I regard her fully, without doubt or hesitation. “I’ll have my office cleaned out on Monday. Right now, I have somewhere I need to be.”
“What? Simon! Where are you going?” she shouts.
But I’m already gone, in more ways than one.
My aunt manipulated me, even before the competition began. But tonight, she manipulated Autumn too, and that is not something I can let stand. Autumn should’ve known better, should’ve trusted me.
She shouldn’t have left me.
But I need to look her in the eye, both of us knowing how we were played like pawns, and see whether she stays or leaves. I have a shattered heart telling me that she’ll still go, but somewhere in the shadows, there’s one tiny seed of hope, planted by Autumn herself, trying to break through the dirt and damage to bloom.
In my car, I think . . . Where would she go?
The obvious choice is her apartment, and when I get there, I pound on her door. “Autumn! Open the door, please. We need to talk.” There’s no answer, and I hear no movement inside, so I bang again. Only then does the door behind me open.
“She’s not there. I saw her come in earlier, but then she went out again,” Autumn’s neighbor informs me as she looks me up and down before clenching her robe at her neck. I forgot that I’m still only partially dressed, but it’s not like I’m going to bust into the neighbor’s apartment. Unless she’s hiding Autumn from me.
“Where’d she go?”
The woman shrugs. She doesn’t know. “Quiet down. We’re sleeping, like reasonable people at this time of night.”
She shuts the door, and I race down the stairs. Parisians.
I drive for hours, all over the city, hoping to find her somewhere. She’s not at the Eiffel Tower or the Luxembourg Gardens, especially at this hour. She’s not walking the Champs Elysees or any of the other tourist places she loved.
Eventually, exhausted and bereft, I go home. There’s a piece of me that desperately thinks I’ll find her there, waiting for me with Xerxes snuggled up in her lap. But when I get home, not even my beloved dog greets me. It’s so late, he’s passed out in the middle of my bed, so I curl up on the couch.
The next morning, I try again. But now that it’s daylight, there are tourists to contend with. I crane my neck left and right and still don’t see Autumn’s shock of red hair anywhere. She’s not responding to any of my messages or calls either. I’ve been calling every hour, begging her to listen to me.
I even go so far as calling Molly to see if she knows where Autumn is, but Molly nearly takes my head off through the phone line. All I get is, “You fuck with my friend, and I’ll fuck you up so badly that they never find the pieces. Oh-kay, thanks for your consideration for the competition. Byeee!”
And she hangs up on me.
I’d be worried that something has happened to Autumn—after all there is crime in Paris—but my gut tells me there’s no foul play. She simply doesn’t want to be found, at least by me.
Monday morning, I’m an utter mess when I leave my apartment. Downstairs, I see Madame Laurent setting up her bread station for a day of sales. “Bonjour,” I tell her blandly, not wanting to be rude.
“Bonjour, Monsieur! It’s a beautiful day, non?” She greets me with all the happiness of a woman thankful to wake up to another sunrise. But then she peers at me closer. “Oh! What’s wrong?”
“Work,” I answer stiffly, unable to discuss Autumn when everything in my soul is telling me to search again. And if I don’t find her, to search more.
“Non, this face is heartbreak. Tell me what has happened with your lady love?” She pats my hand gently. “You seemed so happy when I saw you together.”
“I can’t find her. We had a . . . fight?” I sigh heavily, “I’m not even sure what it was. She’s here for the competition at House Corbin but we . . .”
I guess I needed to talk more than I realized because before I know it, I’ve told Madame Laurent everything that’s happened in the last month. She listens quietly, holding my hand and reacting with horror when I explain about the show on Saturday.
“Mon cherie, you need to find her at once. Love is not to be taken lightly, and if you’ve truly found it, you must do right by the fates. Do not take it for granted. It is much too special and rare a treasure to give up so easily.” She nods her head wisely, completely sure of her sage advice.