Chapter 10 - Caroline
Caroline
Harrison spent the day in closed-door meetings, tucked away in his office on the first floor of the Paris property.
I didn’t mind being excluded, especially after he had allowed me to sit in on the Lucien meeting.
Besides, it gave me a bunch of free time to delve into my two works-in-progress at The Journal.
By the time Rafael knocked on my door to invite me to dinner, I was almost done with the more pressing article. I would need to finish it up after dinner, but that would still allow me to send it to Eddie during business hours back in New York.
Dinner was served in the rooftop garden. The view of the Eiffel Tower was even more grand up there, framed by the rest of the City of Lights in every direction.
“Ah, I was hoping you would choose that dress,” Harrison said when I joined him. He stood and held my chair for me at a table with three place settings.
“I have to admit I love having a tailor on site,” I said. “Can I take her back to New York with me?”
Harrison’s laughter was rich and carefree. “I might let you have her, if the biography goes well. Her skills are put to better use on you than on me.”
The billionaire sat across from me, and Rafael took the chair to my right. The moment he was seated, a servant rushed forward to fill our water glasses, and the chef appeared a few seconds later to describe tonight’s menu.
“Messieurs,” he said cheerfully, “we begin this evening with an amuse-bouche of langoustine tartare, kissed with lemon confit and caviar from Acquitaine. To awaken the palate, I have chosen a bright Champagne Salon Blanc de Blancs—crisp and precise, with a whisper of chalk and citrus. Then our first course is the foie gras torchon, delicately balanced with a spiced pear compote and toasted brioche, paired with a Chateau d’Yquem that has an elegant, lingering finish which embraces the foie like a lover’s touch. ”
He went on to describe three more courses, then clapped his hands together and gave us a bow before disappearing to prepare the food.
“I’d rather have a cheeseburger,” Rafael said.
“A cheeseburger? Rafa, we are in Paris!” Harrison announced. “Relax and enjoy what the chef has prepared for us.”
I took a sip of champagne. “How were the rest of your meetings today?”
“Tedious. Most of them involved putting out the fires that Lucien started. But I think we’re in a good place now. At least, from a public-facing standpoint.”
“I’ve written about your relationship before, but it’s a lot more contentious than I ever imagined. Polite, but contentious.”
“That’s Lucien’s way,” Harrison muttered. “Sometimes I wish I had never partnered up with him.”
“Why did you, then?” I asked.
“Because at the time, I was desperate. I was young and needed financing. None of the big players in New York or London wanted to work with me at the time. Lucien was one of my only options.”
“It worked out pretty well, considering where Blackstone and Moreau is right now,” I pointed out.
“It all worked out,” Harrison agreed. “Except for the dozen ways he makes my life painful behind my back. Today was just one in a series of chaotic decisions from Lucien.”
“I’ve heard him referred to as a chaos investor,” I said carefully. I wasn’t sure how much I should push Harrison on this, but I wanted to glean as much info as I could before we switched topics.
Harrison chuckled wryly. “Chaos investor. Truer words were never spoken. Unless they’re spoken in French. Investisseur du chaos. Lucien should tattoo that on his forehead as a warning to others.”
“You speak French?” I asked.
“Only enough to insult my business partners. I have a meeting in Vienna next month, so I’ve been brushing up on ways to call someone a prick in German.”
Servants arrived to clear our plates and bring out the second course, along with a new wine pairing. Before I could take a sip, though, a woman in a flowing gown came striding out into the garden.
“Anne-Sophie!” Harrison exclaimed. “I thought you were in Tokyo until next week.”
“My plans changed, I am sad to say,” she answered in a thick French accent. She embraced Harrison, clinging to him just longer than friends, then did the same to Rafael. Finally, she turned her gaze to me. “And who is your date this evening?”
“Not a date!” I said much quicker than I intended. “I’m Caroline. Harrison’s biographer.”
“This is Comtesse Anne-Sophie de La Trémoille,” Harrison explained.
The Comtesse gave me the tiniest nod of acknowledgment before turning back to Harrison. “I didn’t realize you were using the estate, or I would have called.”
“If you’d like us to find alternative accommodations…” Harrison said.
The Comtesse quickly held up a palm, every fingernail perfectly painted. “No, it is of course not an inconvenience! It is a pleasant surprise. Stay as long as you want, truly.”
“You’re a saint. Let me move my belongings from your rooms.” He glanced at us. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
Rafael stood up and asked, “Do you need any… help?”
He hesitated a fraction of a second before the last word. It was so subtle I almost missed it. I wondered what that meant.
“Not tonight,” Harrison replied. Then he took the Comtesse by the arm and escorted her out of the garden.
“That,” I said slowly, “might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met in person.”
Rafael smiled and took a drink from the next wine pairing. “She’s not ugly.”
“Understatement.” I paused to choose my next words carefully.
“You’re wondering if they’re an item?” Rafael said.
“I was curious, yes. Are they romantically involved?”
“They are not.”
“Okay. Have they ever been romantically involved?” I tried. “Allowing him to crash at her estate whenever he wants…”
“They have never been romantically involved,” Rafael said carefully.
Like someone answering a deposition. “The two of them go way back. She was one of the first people to invest in Harrison’s firm, long before he partnered with Lucien.
She sold her shares years ago, and the two of them are very close friends. ”
The chef arrived with the next course. He looked crestfallen that Harrison wasn’t there, but quickly put on a smile while explaining which wine was paired with the course.
“I’ve only been to a Michelin star restaurant once,” I admitted. “But this is somehow better.”
“A perk of the job,” Rafael replied while eating. “Although I was serious about wanting a cheeseburger.”
Halfway through the course, a sound drifted up to us from one of the lower rooms. Heavy breathing, followed soon by long moans of pleasure.
When I realized what was happening, I glanced at Rafael and raised an eyebrow.
“You asked if they were romantically involved,” Rafael said defensively. “They are not, nor have they ever been. They have a strong friendship… which is occasionally physical. Harrison prefers to avoid things that are… messy.”
A loud squeal cut through the air, followed by something in French.
Rafael picked at his food. “The Comtesse’s rooms are just below. She must have left the balcony door open.”
I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Physical relationships can get messy, too.”
“Not as messy as an emotional relationship,” Rafael countered.
“True.”
The moaning grew louder. And from what I could tell, the Comtesse was not faking her pleasure. I couldn’t help but imagine Harrison with her, his lips moving down her neck…
“You asked Harrison if he needed any help,” I said. “What did you mean?”
“It didn’t mean anything.”
“You said it weird,” I insisted.
“I did not,” he replied, taking a sip of wine and studying his food.
That’s when it dawned on me. The affectionate way Anne-Sophie embraced both Harrison and Rafael, despite dismissing me as the help. The way the bodyguard asked if they wanted help. And Rafael, who normally had a masterful poker face, was now blushing while eating his food.
Has Rafael joined them in a threesome?
“Stop speculating,” Rafael said curtly.
“Anything you tell me is off the record,” I quickly said. “I know I’ve been given free reign over the biography, but I wouldn’t include something like that without checking with you and Harrison first.”
“Something like what?” he demanded.
I shrugged. Part of being a good journalist was knowing when to push and when to pull back, and right now I knew Rafael didn’t want to be pushed further.
The moans grew louder. I sipped my wine and wished we had more. Rafael and I were just sitting there awkwardly, ignoring the sex happening right below us. But I couldn’t think of anything to say to fill the void.
Suddenly, Harrison came walking out to the rooftop garden. And the noises from the bedroom downstairs were still going on.
“Harrison?” Rafael asked in surprise.
“Our dear Anne-Sophie brought home a date,” Harrison said, rejoining us at the table. “A young man who…”
He trailed off as he realized what we were listening to.
“Yikes. I must have forgotten to close the balcony door.” He cocked his head as the Comtesse let out a particularly intense cry. “No point in interrupting them now. She seems to be nearing completion. Ahh, there’s the chef with our next course. Perhaps some music to drown out the noise?”
We politely listened to the chef’s description of the main course while trying to ignore the sounds drifting up from below.