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Chantalle squeezed her hands and smiled up at her, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes more pronounced in her amusement.
“He’s also inherited some of my defects—my stubbornness being at the top of the list. If he wants you to go with him to Romania, believe me, he’ll charm you into going.”
Linda burst out laughing. He probably would.
It was close to eleven by the time Linda and Gerard said their goodbyes, amidst lots of hugs and promises that they would be back soon to visit.
Linda was still annoyed about Gerard’s comment that they were going to Romania. No one made decisions for her. As soon as they were alone in the vehicle, she broached the subject.
“Weare going to Romania?”
He raised his eyebrows innocently. “I did ask you. Don’t you remember?”
“What I remember is saying I would think about it.”
“Which is basically a yes.”
“No,” she insisted. “It’s a maybe, at best.”
Before she could say anything else, he started the engine. Stopped at a traffic light, he glanced at her with big sad, puppy-dog eyes.
“Come on, you know you want to go,” he pleaded. “How can you pass up a chance to visit Transylvania, that enigmatic land hidden in the heart of the Carpathians?”
She couldn’t help laugh at the exaggerated tour guide tone he’d used, knowing it was exactly the reaction he expected.
“I can’t believe this!” she said, giving in graciously. “You’re just like your mother.”
“Thank you.” He grinned.
“I didn’t mean it as a compliment. You people are all… charming bullies. You turn on the charm, and everyone falls in line with whatever you want to do.”
“But only if it’s what you want, too,” he said. “It is, isn’t it?”
She exhaled heavily and nodded.
“Then I can buy the plane tickets tomorrow?”
“Fine,” she consented grudgingly.
She shook her head. He hadn’t conned her into going—not really. He’d simply persuaded her to do something she wanted to do. Suddenly, she was excited about the trip and wanted to know more about it.
“So we fly there and then what? Will your friend meet us at the airport?”
“No. Our flight lands in Bucharest, the capital of Romania. Jean-Paul lives in Cluj. We’ll rent a car and drive there. It’s only a few hours from Bucharest, but it will give us a chance to enjoy the scenery. I want to see all of those famous landscapes Jean’s been bragging about.”
“I like the sound of that. I’m curious. This should be an interesting experience.”
“I’m sure it will be. Cluj is right in the heart of Transylvania. Maybe we’ll encounter a creature of the night,” he intoned, adding a cheesy Dracula accent to his voice.
She frowned, unable to hide the cautious concern on her face, and he burst out laughing.
“Don’t worry,chérie, I won’t let anything happen to you. We can bring along garlic, wooden stakes, and silver restraints if you like.”
She smirked and was about to tell him where he could shove those wooden stakes, when he spoke again.
“Now, tell me about this statue that I resemble.”
Linda darted him an exasperated glance. “Is there room in your head for your humongous ego? There’s nothing to tell. Any resemblance is strictly coincidental. I sculpted that piece long before I ever met you.”
