Page 66 of A Billionaire for Christmas
‘And just one more thing.’ Freda had the good grace to look sheepish as she held out a Gucci handbag. ‘If you could take care of this for me. Thank you so much.’
20
LOVE IS A MISUNDERSTANDING BETWEEN TWO FOOLS
The first person Molly bumped into as she tiptoed along the corridor with a giant binbag full of noisy, clinking empty bottles was Levi.
‘Don’t ask,’ she said, heading off any sarcastic comments.
‘To be honest,’ Levi said, eyeing the bag, ‘I thought there would be more. You seem the type who can put quite a lot away.’
If he didn’t look so deadpan, she would have suspected he was teasing her. ‘Do I?’ With the exception of the hunting lodge and the Cigar Lounge, Molly had barely touched a drop. ‘Maybe it’s you. Maybe you drive me to drink.’
Levi’s expression softened. ‘I deserved that. Let me help.’
‘Okay, here. Take this.’ Molly handed him the Gucci handbag.
‘What is it?’ Levi weighed it in his hand. It was heavy.
‘It’s a bag of sick.’
‘Jesus Christ.’ It only took him a nanosecond to work it out. ‘Are these from Freda’s room?’
Molly hesitated a fraction. There was no point trying to cover for her. ‘I’m going to see if I can help take her mind off drinking. I have an idea that might work.’
‘What’s wrong? Why does she need to drink? She’s got a wedding to plan and loads of things to keep her occupied.’
‘I think she could really use some brotherly advice. Maybe you could talk to her?’
Levi, slightly bewildered, held the bag at arm’s length. ‘I’ll add it to my list.’
* * *
The next person Molly bumped into down the corridor was Armand. He looked terribly distracted.
‘Bonjour, Monsieur LeRoux,’ she said politely, hoping he wouldn’t notice the clanking bottles. ‘Can I get you anything?’
It was almost as though he hadn’t heard her.
‘Is everything okay?’ she asked.
His tone remained serious. ‘Yes, thank you.’
‘I wondered if I might ask you something. Personal.’
He looked at her blankly. ‘How personal?’
‘What were wedding banquets like when you got married here in France? Are they very different to America or Britain?’
It was as though she had flicked a switch.
‘Ah, French gastronomy is the best. And weddings are no exception. You have the traditional foie gras and champagne tower of course.’ Armand chuckled. ‘We had the highest croquembouche anyone had ever seen. But it was themagret de canardthat stole the show. It melted on the tongue. I can taste it now. And the plum and sloe jus. Heaven.’ Armand stopped talking. As he fished about in his blazer jacket for his handkerchief to wipe his brow, she noticed the top of a tablet box peeking out from inside a pocket. It rattled as he searched.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked. ‘Your breathing seems a bit laboured.’
He frowned with concern. ‘Does it?’
‘My mother is a nurse. We cared for my dad when he had a heart attack a few years ago. He’s fine now, but we’re always watching him like a hawk for signs of another.’
