Page 101 of Closer

“Brie and I are back together.”

“We are?” I demand of him, but all I get in return is that cocky grin.

“Congratulations, monsieur.”

“And we’re having a baby.”

I bury my face in my hands, so I won’t use them to strangle him.

“Abébé.Oh, this is wonderful news,monsieur.”

“Yeah, I thought so too.”

“Congratulations, it is cause for much celebration, non?”

“It is, but listen, we’re gonna need to fix up the house. So, I might need you to call in a crew and help me with that.”

“I have just the man in mind.”

“Excellent,” he crows. “Brie and I will be there tomorrow night. Can you arrange a car from the airport?”

“I can’t fly to the country. I have three more concerts to perform in Paris.”

“Then we’ll be there Monday.”

“Oui, monsieur.”

“Levi,” I demand, but apparently, he has selective hearing.

“Adiós, Margaux.”

“Au revoir, monsieur.”

I groan. “Levi. I cannot pick up everything and move to your chateau.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s absurd!”

“You love Paris. I get it. We’ll visit. Or we can buy a new place and we’ll go there as often as you want. Once a week, if that’s what you want, but I have a house. I have a yard, and a pool and a place where our baby can grow. Where we can grow, away from the paparazzi, and fans, and everyone else.” He kisses my neck and wraps his arms tightly around my waist. I lean into his embrace. Though I am still angry, he has a way of melting my resolve. “Your mum can even move in with us, if that’s what you want. We have the room, and—”

“My mother is not moving in with us,” I warn.

“Okay, but we’ll do up a room anyway, because I’m sure she’s going to want to come visit her grandson once in a while.”

“Okay.” I nod. “But do not mention her moving in, ever again.”

“Fine.” He laughs. “Just you, me, and our baby. And Margaux, furniture guy, and Dog.”

“And Monsieur Chat.”

He screws up his nose. “And Monsieur Chat.”

“Then maybe when we’re settled, and our little dude is a few months old, I can put another baby in your belly.” I give him a look that says he must be crazy, and he holds up his hands to ward away my ire. “We’ll talk about the other three kids we’re having later. We have time.”

I shake my head, pull him down on top of me, and kiss him stupid. He tastes like ice cream and fudge, but most of all, he tastes like happiness.

My happiness.

---