Page 27 of Enemies to French Kisses
“Why,you, of course.”
Of course. But the question is what she wants from me. “Charlotte—”
“Let’s be together again, Marc. This time we’ve been apart has torn away at me more than you can imagine.” She pouts her lips in a way I know she’s rehearsed, because it’s incredibly effective. I even feel a tinge of sympathy at that face, despite knowing what’s behind it—nothing.
“Charlotte, we’ve talked about this.”
“You’vetalked about it. But you never listened to me. Not once.”
“I did, but—”
“And all you ever talk about are the bad things between us, which I never denied.”
“You did, in fact, but—”
“When there were so many great moments, don’t you think?”
She’s a manipulator, that much is true. But there is more to her than that, and if I don’t give her this one win, I fear she might use up my entire evening with stories from the past to prove me wrong.
“Of course there were wonderful moments, Charlotte.”
“Exciting moments, like that time in the Loire.” She stands from the sofa, her hair fanning around her face.
“Yes, I remember the Loire.”
She sashays toward me. “And intimate moments, when we were closer than it seemed two people could be.”
“Charlotte—"
“I meanemotionally. I could always trust you, Marc.” She’s so close I feel the wave of her sweetened breath over me. So she still relishes those apple candies after all this time.
I have to burst this false bubble. But how to do it so she doesn’t spend hours defending her fake-but-plausible reason for being here…
“You think we should get back together,” I venture, knowing that can’t really be her reason. She knows as well as I do we would never, ever work out.
She shrugs in a way that would be cute to any other man. “Or perhaps spend time together, enjoy each other’s company.”
She can’t be lonely. Charlotte doesn’t know how to be lonely. She demonstrated this by turning up with another man at events she knew I’d attend before the proverbial ink was even dry when I ended things with her.
What could it be then? “Spend time together, you say…”
“Yes, like when things were good between us—” I feel it coming, “—like perhaps at Gabriel and Amelie’s upcoming engagement party.”
There it is.
“Their engagement party, huh?” I’ve got her number now, and she senses it.
“There will be a great array of people we both know.”
“And people you don’t.” Gabriel and Amelie’s guest list reads like a who’s who of French elites. And Charlotte didn’t get an invite. In her mind, she has to be there, even if it is on my invite and not her own.
It makes perfect sense now.
“I already have a date to the party.”
She blinks. Her gears are at work—how to back out of this while saving face.
“How…delightful for you. Something serious?”
