Page 36 of Enemies to French Kisses
I hold his hand and he squeezes mine, a demure smile on his lips as he closes his eyes and swiftly falls asleep.
“Bonsoir, Madame.” Dr. Rousse enters, that edge still ever in his voice. “I understand our patientawoke?”
“He did. And then heasleeped. I mean, fell back asleep.” I cringe at my loss of the English language but then glance back at Marc. He looks like a child but for the five o’clock shadow and bulging arm muscles, of course.
The doctor nods and scribbles a note. “This is good news. Sleep is necessary, but it is good you were the first face he sees.”
“Me?”
The doctor looks at me. “To see a loved one after a head trauma such as this and to recognize her is a sign of excellent prognosis.”
“He did recognize me, but…”
“The rest is details. We must keep him overnight, but it is best you stay here.”
“Me? Here? Well, of course.”
The doctor tightens his grip on the clipboard. “Did you have other more important plans?”
“No, sir. I absolutely do not.”
He nods and steps out.
Not only do the police think I’m an abusive spouse, but the doctor thinks I’d abandon my husband in his hour of need.
I don’t think I like the wife I’ve unknowingly become.
A gentle knock on the door rouses me from my self-criticism and I glance at Marc to see if the sound woke him, but he’s in a deep and peaceful sleep. Vincent waves through the window and I’ve never been so relieved to see a biotechnical genius in my life.
“How is he?” Vincent leans over the bed, inspecting Marc’s face.
“Back up, you’re going to wake him,” I hiss. “He’s just gone back to sleep.”
“So he came out of the unconsciousness.” Vincent waves his hand over Marc’s face as if testing if this is all a joke. I sure wish it were, but since it’s not, I slap Vincent’s hand back as though he’s a little boy desperate to touch the breakable figurines in a china shop.
“Sit.” I pull over a chair to the other side of the room where Vincent is less likely to meddle with the sleeping injured giant. “How did you know where to find us?”
“You have‘Trouve-Moi’turned on.”
“’Find Me?’ I never turned that on.”
“It’s a company phone. It’s always turned on.”
I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. “Guillaume is tracking my every move?”
“Not your every move, the phone’s.”
“Touché. I’m thankful this invasion of personal privacy worked in my favor, anyway.” I reach over and put my hand on the arm of Vincent’s chair. “You don’t know how thankful I am to see you.”
He pats my hand the way a grandfather would do with a child, but it’s a comfort after this fiasco. “I want to ask what happened, but I don’t dare.”
“I wish I could explain it, but it’s a story with several twists and turns.”
“From the look of it, it’s Marc who took many twists and turns down the stairs.”
I let my head smack against the wall behind me, harder than I intended but I deserve it. Knock some sense back into me. “See, Marc wanted to meet to discuss the RFP, so I thought.”
“On a Friday night?”
