Chapter 26
DIANE
We’re in the home stretch.
If Sebastian’s nemesis doesn’t make his move really soon, my fake husband of one month and I will go on a break, separate and divorce, pretexting irreconcilable differences.
Sebastian is getting a little nervous about the success of his plan.
I would be, too, in his place.
All his efforts of the past six months, the elaborate deception of family and friends, the marriage to a woman he’d never consider wife material, the luxury wedding, extravagant parties, and lavish receptions—it’s all been for naught.
To say nothing of the money he’s still to fork over when my payday arrives.
If nothing out of the ordinary happens this week, I’ll pocket my fee and leave next week. Sebastian will go back to his normal life, none the wiser. And his enemy will thank his lucky stars for having stayed under the radar.
No wonder my still-husband is cramming as many opportunities for his enemy as he can into this last week. The first one is underway right now, and it’s a happy event, regardless of our hidden agenda.
Jeanne’s hubby, Mat, was elected Member of the European Parliament.
Sebastian had backed his party’s campaign, so he’s doubly pleased.
To celebrate Mat’s achievement, we’re hosting a big reception at Raphael and Sebastian’s gentlemen’s club.
Mat wanted to do it at La Bohème, but the bistro was too small for the occasion.
Everyone who’s anyone in Paris and from Mat’s home base in Normandy is here, schmoozing, drinking, and stuffing themselves with caviar canapés.
Sebastian steers the event with his usual efficiency, making sure Mat meets all the movers and shakers and opinion leaders.
I play the perfect hostess—at least, my idea of the perfect hostess. Dressed in a shimmery gown that feels and looks as if it was poured on me, I welcome and make small talk with as many guests as I can manage without appearing rushed.
As I do my rounds, I notice Sebastian chatting with a creature who should totally represent France at the next Miss Universe.
They smile at each other, the distance between them considerably smaller than what’s expected of two people holding a polite conversation.
She plays with her earlobe as she speaks.
Sebastian beckons to a server and picks up two champagne flutes.
A needle of jealousy pricks me somewhere in the upper left quadrant of my chest, but I will myself to ignore it and carry on.
One of the uniformed waitresses carrying a tray with food and drinks keeps glancing at Raphael.
The depth of her gaze is intriguing. Every time she steals a glance at him, something flashes in her pretty eyes—something bigger than just OMG-what-a-studmuffin.
Her furtive looks have an undeniable gravitas that goes beyond flirtation.
It suggests a history. And a complicated one, at that.
When I spot Manon, I rush to her side for a chat that I’ll actually enjoy.
“Where’s Amar, by the way?” I ask after we’ve covered her recent raise and the encouraging sales of my new prints at La Bohème. “I haven’t seen him yet.”
She looks down, visibly distressed.
“What’s wrong? Is he OK?”
“I don’t know.”
I give her a quizzical look.
“He’s disappeared.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s gone,” she says. “It’s been three days now. He hasn’t showed up for work, and he won’t return my calls.”
“Are you going to report his disappearance to the police?”
She shakes her head. “I managed to get hold of his mom. She says Amar left the country.”
“Why?”
“I couldn’t get anything else out of her.” There’s a tremor in her voice. “I’m at my wit’s end.”
I give her a hug. “He’ll come back. He loves you.”
“I’m not… I’m not so sure anymore.”
Someone taps my shoulder. “Here she is, the beautiful hostess of this great celebration!”
I turn around—it’s Sebastian’s pal, Laurent.
“Thank you for the ‘beautiful,’ ” I say as we cheek kiss. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”
“Absolutely.” He tilts his head toward Manon. “Will you introduce me to your equally beautiful friend?”
I do and leave them to it. God knows, Manon could do with a distraction right now.
Besides, I really need to pee.
Just as I’m opening the door to the ladies’ room, Raphael and the glancing waitress come out of the gents’ toilet. He’s tucking his shirt into his pants. She’s smoothing her uniform. Both are rumpled and flushed, leaving no doubt about what they were doing in the men’s bathroom.
Or about the nature of their “history.”
When I return to the front room, there are daggers flying around. Not material ones, of course, but the looks Genevieve is giving the waitress. They’re so sharp it’s a miracle her victim isn’t screaming in pain and collapsing to the floor.
I smirk.
Raphael may believe that Genevieve is only a friend, but the truth is she may as well be wearing a T-shirt that reads, Hands off the middle Darcy brother—HE’S MINE.
Men can be so selectively blind!
Sebastian comes over to me. “Did you see the woman I’ve been talking to for the past thirty minutes?”
“I did.”
“We’ve already bumped into each other at the Chanel luncheon I attended for work last week.” His eyes are bright with excitement.
“Do you think…” I search his face. “Do you think she’s it?”
“I just texted the PI to stand by outside.”
“What happens next?”
He looks at his watch. “In an hour or so, people will start leaving. You’ll say you’re tired and go home.”
“And you?”
“If all goes well, I’ll leave with my temptress.”
I’m itching to ask if he’ll do more than just “leave” with her.
For his scheme to work, I guess he’ll need to.
The question is how far he’ll go. Will he just drive her home, kiss her, and let his private eye shadow her until she contacts her employer, or will he actually go all the way and sleep with her?
He’s never been very specific on that part of the plan.
I nod and force myself to smile. “Fingers crossed.”
“Don’t wait up for me tonight,” he says.
That needle I’d felt earlier morphs into a dirty bomb and blows up inside my chest just as Sebastian turns and walks away.