Page 77 of Enemies to French Kisses
But not now.
“Laura, I feel—”
“Oh Lord, don’t bring feelings into this! Please, Marc.” I step closer to him so he can see I’m serious. “Please.”
He pauses and then offers a quick smile. He nods, the movement nearly imperceptible.
He takes in a deep breath, his chest pressing against the cotton of his baby blue button up shirt. He rolled up the sleeves to avoid getting whiteboard marker on them. Arms strong enough to—
Stop.
“You taking the Vespa home?” He gathers his papers, and I’m grateful for the small talk.
“Naw. I haven’t taken it out since—” How to finish this sentence…
“I understand. But it’s late for the metro.”
“I’ll take a taxi.”
“Wise. What about him?” Marc tilts his head toward Vincent.
On cue, a loud snore emerges from the table.
“He looks comfortable,” I whisper.
“He can always pull out his cape and fly home.” Marc’s eyes smile and I stifle a giggle myself. The euphoria of exhaustion and a major project in the bag.
Marc dims the lights. “He’s in Morpheus’s arms.”
“The guy from The Matrix?”
“Never mind. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER31
Laura
I smooth my skirt,even though I know it’s pristine. A quick check on every last lock of hair in the mirror of the ladies’ room plus a touch up of lipstick because that somehow makes this feel more real.
It’s Monday morning pitch time.
The girls all went picnicking and dancing and sipped rosé at the bank of the Seine River, but I’ve got no time for playing around. This is it. This is what counts.
And any free time just left me thinking about Marc.
Thank goodness for work, I can throw myself into it, and it doesn’t let me down. The spreadsheets are always there for me like a Sunday barbecue. The Dutch liked the proposal, but now is when it gets real. The only commitment they’ve made is that they aren’t pursuing any other proposals… for now. But today is what decides whether Innov’ Biotech gets the contract or not.
The project plan is impeccable. It follows regulations and norms, with just enough innovation so that they see we are a cut above the rest. Bringing the human aspect to home care was the final touch, as a personal support worker will visit in addition to the medical personnel.
It’s clear in the pages that we’re the best possible choice for them. But it’s my job to make it painfully obvious so they can’t say no.
“Laura?” A masculine voice I’ve come to recognize all too well calls into the staff ladies room. “They’re here.”
“Already?”
“It’s ten minutes to going time.”
“Gotime.”
