Chapter Four #3
“I never would have guessed that, Vanessa.” He eyed me thoughtfully, like he was seeing just how treacherous I was for the first time. “You must really want this job.”
“I do. More than you.”
“I’m not so sure of that. But I did underestimate you. And I won’t do it again.”
“You won’t tell anyone, will you, about finding me here on the couch?”
“No, Vanessa, I won’t tell anyone. I—for one—have some boundaries. But I will make you a deal.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea.”
“Maybe. But hear me out.” He stood up and started pacing between the two desks. “Only one of us can get the editor position, right? Most importantly, we both feel certain that we could never work for the other. So, let’s say whoever gets the job stays, and the other one will go.”
“So if I don’t get the editor position, I have to quit the paper.”
“That’s right. And if I don’t get it, then I’ll move on. It’s a gentlemen’s agreement. Winner takes all, if you will. That will prevent bad blood and further competition or sabotage.”
“A gentlemen’s agreement?”
“Yes. All or nothing. This is how men do things.”
“Fine. It’s a deal. When I get the editor position, you’ll leave.
” I said this believing with my full being that I wouldn’t have to go.
I’d get the editor’s position. And if I didn’t, I’d never want to see his face again.
So either way the situation went, the deal would hold.
“But if you tell anyone you saw me anywhere near this couch, the deal is off.”
“I admire your complete dedication to self-preservation. I don’t think I could tell my friend’s secrets to keep my job.”
“Well, if you hadn’t taken my story out from under me, then I wouldn’t have had to.”
“You’re still on about that? You have to learn to let things go, Vanessa.”
“I can’t let it go when it put me in such a difficult position.A position where I had to betray a friend.”
His shoulders fell. “So why didn’t you say anything? I would have given you a story, you know.”
“I wouldn’t have taken it.”
That night, I didn’t stay at the office again. I went home. Late. So late that everyone had gone to bed. I wouldn’t say I was ready to face the consequences of my actions, but I was also desperately tired of being at work.
The following day. I was in my room, hatefully re-reading one of Benoit Levin’s stories, when I heard Charlotte’s door open.
I didn’t think the dust had settled yet, but I also knew that continuing to hide and avoid her would make it worse.
Without thinking too much, I took a deep, strengthening breath, and went out to catch her.
“Charlotte?” Her eyes were damp, and she was carrying a valise. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
Her look was so sharp, it could have cut me. Her brow crumpled painfully. “No Vanessa. No. He’s marrying her. It’s in the paper. And you’re the last person I want to talk to right now.”
She rushed down the stairs and was gone before I could ask where she was going.
I went to my room and checked the paper.
Sure enough, there was Antoine de Larminet’s engagement announcement.
He was marrying Louise Montmorency, the marquis’s daughter, which was the most expected outcome to everyone except Charlotte, the poor thing.
A little while later, Madame found a note that Charlotte left to explain her hasty departure.
She’d gone back to Vernon, her hometown, which made me feel quite rotten.
Of all the possible outcomes of my writing her gossip, I never considered it might drive her out of the city. All this trouble over a man!
This wasn’t the end of it, however. Antoine de Larminet didn’t stop sending messengers to the house.
Then finally, a few days after Charlotte’s departure, he showed up himself.
I heard someone at the door when I was passing through the hallway upstairs.
I could only make out every few words, but then I heard Charlotte’s name and something about the tone of the man’s voice made me want to go down and be nosy.
And there he was, at the front door, arguing with Madame and Nadine.
“That’s not what it said in the paper,” Nadine said.
“The paper is wrong. Rather, it’s no longer accurate.
I am not engaged to anyone and only want to be engaged to Charlotte Deveraux.
Is she still in the city?” I’d only seen him a handful of times, usually from a distance and in some fancy setting.
He was well dressed as always, but disheveled in a very un-aristocratic way.
His face was unshaven. There was a glint of desperation in his eyes.
His mustache quivered when he spoke her name.
Whatever was going on between him and Charlotte—and I still didn’t even know all the details—it was ruining him inside. I had never seen anything like it. Something made me want to put him out of his misery. I stepped forward between Nadine and Madame. “She’s gone home to Vernon.”
“Vanessa,” Nadine hissed. “I wasn’t going to tell him.”
I shrugged. “I can’t keep my mouth shut apparently.”
Nadine laughed wickedly. “You’re terrible.”
“And you,” I said, pointing over the threshold at Antoine. “You are terrible too, from what we’ve heard.”
“I am aware of my flaws, mademoiselles, merci beaucoup. But I have to go. I have to get to Vernon.” His relief livened him up. Then he took off in his gilded carriage, leaving Nadine, Madame, and me standing there at the door.
“I can’t believe he’s thrown off the marquis’s daughter,” Madame said, pushing the door closed.
“Do you think he’ll really go to Vernon?”
“I’d be surprised if he didn’t,” Madame said. “He was a mess.”
“You know what surprises me,” Nadine said slyly, nudging Madame with her elbow.
“What’s that?”
“This one telling the lovesick aristocrat where to find hisdarling,” she said, tipping her head in my direction. “It turns out Vanessa’s a romantic.”
I scoffed at the suggestion. “I have no idea what you mean.”