Chapter 12
PRESENT DAY
Mia stood outside the restaurant, looking at the crowd inside. Their laughter and conversation drifted through the open door, as a small handful of people made their way outside to smoke.
What am I doing here? She didn’t know this man, and yet she’d made a deal with him that in hindsight seemed like the plot of a bad romantic comedy.
But still, she’d found herself getting dressed and ready, because he felt like the one person who could actually point her in the right direction.
She refused to admit that it was because she wanted to see him again.
Like she’d already told herself, he was nothing more than a handsome stranger.
She’d had a magical day in Paris, exploring and walking countless steps as she took in the sights, her camera hanging around her neck.
She’d marvelled at the Eiffel Tower and stopped for coffee and a croissant, and she’d even taken a photo of a street intersection that had caught her eye.
Not for the first time since she’d landed in France, she felt that glimmer of the old her.
Mia didn’t ever want to fully let go of the past, but every little step forward felt like she was moving forward with her life.
And Paris was certainly the most beautiful city to get lost in and rediscover herself.
‘Vous êtes ici pour la fête?’
Hope turned at the feminine voice behind her, pulled from her thoughts and coming eye to eye with a blonde, her hair pulled back into a bun and a scarf tied around her neck.
She was so effortlessly French, and Mia hoped that her silk slip dress and blazer was chic enough.
She’d only bought the dress that day, from a little boutique that had caught her eye, since she hadn’t exactly packed anything suitable for a Paris party as the date of a gorgeous man.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t speak French.’
‘I was asking if you’re here for the party,’ the woman said, in accented English.
It was then that Mia realised she was blocking the entrance. The outside was roped off, and she was standing in the only gap that led to the door.
‘Sorry, yes, I—’
‘Would you like to walk in with me?’
Hope nodded, grateful. ‘Yes. I don’t like crowds, and I only know Joe.’
The woman’s eyes widened. ‘Ah, I see. I’ll take you to him.’
She followed the woman, snaking through the pockets of people, seeing Joe behind the bar, surprised that he was serving. She’d thought that he was a guest tonight, but it seemed he was working rather than mingling.
‘This isn’t what I was expecting,’ Mia thought out loud.
‘Joe throws this party every year. Our mother asked him to do it once, for family, friends and all his staff, and now he has no choice. No one would forgive him if he didn’t invite us.’
Joe hadn’t seen them yet, and Mia turned to the woman beside her.
‘I’m sorry, his staff?’ she asked, confused.
‘Ah, did I have the wrong word in English? The people working for him,’ she said, waving her hand as she spoke. ‘They all love him, but they especially love him when he gives them the night off to enjoy the party.’
Mia smiled, feeling embarrassed that she’d not realised the place was his, when a hand was pressed gently to her lower back, followed by a whisper of words.
‘I see you’ve met my sister. It looks like we’ve fooled her already.’
Joe leaned in and kissed Mia’s cheeks, and she felt her skin flush not just at the touch of his lips or the way his arm slipped around her waist, but at the wide-eyed expression on the other woman’s face as he did so.
‘Mia,’ she forced herself to say, holding out her hand.
‘Vivienne,’ his sister said, pressing her palm to Mia’s at the same time as shaking her head.
Mia stood and listened as brother and sister spoke in French—a conversation that ended with Joe tightening his hold a little around her waist, and his sister giving him a look she couldn’t decipher.
Although she was still smiling, so she didn’t seem angry.
Perhaps she was just annoyed that it was a surprise.
‘It was lovely to meet you, Mia,’ Vivienne said.
The moment she turned, Mia looked to Joe. ‘What did she say?’
‘That she never believed me for a moment when I said I’d have a date,’ he said, as his hand dropped from around her waist. ‘They’d told me that if I didn’t introduce them to someone before my thirtieth birthday, they’d take it upon themselves to find me someone.
Apparently they worry too much about me being alone. ’
Mia laughed. ‘You’re not serious? They would do that?’
‘Oh, they would definitely do that,’ he said, taking her hand and leading her towards the bar. ‘This is the problem when you’re the only man in a family of women.’
‘Also, is this your birthday party?’
He reached over to take two glasses of champagne he’d already poured from behind the bar, passing one to her.
‘It is. I close every year on my birthday, and I just invite family, the waitstaff and some old friends. I couldn’t care less about the day I was born, but I do love all these people, and it’s an excuse to do something nice for them.’
‘You invite them all to your restaurant,’ she said, more as a statement than a question. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you owned the place yesterday? I feel a fool for presuming you worked here.’
He gently clinked his glass to hers and took a sip. ‘I don’t need anyone to know I’m the owner. Now, let’s put on our best act and go and meet my mother. I think you’ll like her.’
Mia took a long sip of her champagne as Joe took her hand and walked her back through the bar, wondering how he could possibly know that she’d like his mother when he didn’t even know her.
Joe stopped along the way and introduced her to so many people her head felt like it was swimming, until they reached a woman with sleek blonde hair like her daughter’s, and dark brown eyes the exact shade of her son’s.
It was only then that she realised he said he was the only man in a family of women, when last night he’d spoken of his brother.
‘Maman, this is Mia,’ Joe said, his fingers colliding more tightly with hers, before she had a chance to ask him.
‘Mia, I’m Marguerite,’ the woman said, her smile as easy as her son’s as she stepped forward to kiss her cheeks. ‘Well, I never expected to meet anyone new tonight, so this is a lovely surprise.’
‘It’s lovely to meet you, too,’ Mia said, not sure how to act and still wondering how it was that a restaurateur as handsome as Joe couldn’t have a real date on his arm.
She didn’t like the thought of fooling his mother into thinking they were something more than they were, either, as much as she wanted his help.
‘The pleasure is all mine. Someone has kept you very quiet.’ She kissed her son’s cheeks this time as Mia watched on.
‘There’s nothing better than a surprise, is there, Maman?’ Joe teased as he kissed her in return.
‘Tell me, what brings you to France, Mia?’ his mother asked.
‘Mia is searching for answers about her family,’ Joe said. ‘Her great-aunt might have been a bootlegger in the thirties.’
‘Here, in Paris?’
Mia nodded. ‘I think so,’ she said. ‘Although I’m only guessing at this stage. She left some clues, but so far I have more questions than answers. All I know is that she was somehow linked to the production of absinthe, which is what led me here.’ She paused. ‘It’s how I met your son, in fact.’
His mother’s smile was contagious, and Mia found her hand being pulled away from Joe’s and into his mother’s.
‘There’s nothing more exciting than a good mystery,’ his mother said, tugging her towards the closest table and beckoning for his sister to join them. ‘Joe, we’re going to need more champagne. I want to know everything!’
Mia glanced at Joe, hoping he wouldn’t mind, but he just smiled and disappeared to get the drinks, while Mia let herself be led to the table.
When they were seated, his mother beamed at her, and she half wondered if this was why he’d invited her, because his mother certainly seemed excited about her intriguing story.
‘I don’t know how much Joe has told you, but my family was once one of the largest producers of gin near Calais,’ she said. ‘My grandfather left America during the Prohibition era, and my father and now my brother have carried on the family business ever since.’
‘No, he didn’t mention that,’ she said. Although it makes sense, now, why I was told he might be the best person to point me in the right direction. ‘But a bartender in London actually told me to find your son. That he might be the one person able to help me.’
‘We’re one of only three artisan gin distilleries left in the region,’ his mother said.
‘Joe was always interested in the family business, but he wasn’t so interested in working from a dusty old distillery in the countryside.
But he knows more about spirits and how to make the best cocktails than most bartenders twice his age. ’
Mia fought the urge to turn and look for him, but she wondered if it might be his mother who would be more helpful to her, so she fixed all her attention on her.
‘May I show you my clues?’ Mia asked.
‘You have them on you?’ his mother responded.
Mia nodded. She hadn’t wanted to leave them in the hotel room, and so she took the little bottle from her bag, as well as the notebook containing the sketches, placing them on the table just as Joe returned. He’d brought a bottle of champagne with him, and he leaned over to refill their glasses.
‘Why don’t you tell us all the story?’ he said, sitting beside her and draping an arm over the back of her chair. ‘I think you’re both going to love hearing this.’
‘Yes, Mia, tell us the story,’ his sister said, leaning forward in her seat beside her mother.
She took a hesitant sip of champagne first, before opening the page of Hope’s diary to the drawing she’d spent so many hours studying. For some reason she felt nervous even showing it to them.
‘Are you sure? I don’t want to bore you all, especially at a party.’