Magic (17 page)

“Thank you very much,” she said politely. And the following night, she was waiting for him in a simple black cocktail dress and a black coat when he came to pick her up. Mathilde had agreed to stay, without complaint. Charles looked very handsome in a dark suit, and as promised, she brought her children out to meet him in their pajamas. Jean-Louis shook hands with him, and Isabelle did an awkward curtsy as they had taught her to, in old French style, and Damien just stared at him.

“Where are you taking my
maman
?” Isabelle asked him with a worried look.

“To the ballet,” Valerie answered her, “where beautiful ballerinas wear tutus just like yours, and pink toe shoes.”

“Can we come?” Isabelle asked, her eyes lighting up, and her mother bent down and kissed her and said that they would go to the ballet one day.

“That's just for girls,” Jean-Louis said with a look of disgust, and then Mathilde shepherded them back to their rooms for a story before they went to bed.

“They're very sweet,” Charles complimented her, touched. “Good work.” She smiled, and they left the apartment, and chatted on the way to the Opera House.

Their seats were fabulous, in a box. And they went to the bar at intermission and had champagne, and afterward the meal at Alain Ducasse was superb. They had delicate white truffles, which were in season and had come from Italy. They shaved them over their dinner, and they were so insanely expensive that they were sold by weight. And Charles selected the finest wines for her. It was an exquisite meal.

“I feel terribly spoiled,” Valerie said to him over chocolate soufflé for dessert. “I don't normally go to dinners like this.” The white truffles had been unforgettable, she'd only had them a few times before. They were very rare, and came from one specific region in Italy and nowhere else.

“You deserve to be spoiled, Valerie,” he said quietly. “You work too hard.”

“So do you,” she said easily, but he disagreed.

“I only have one job. You have two now, and you're doing wonderful work at both. Don't think I don't notice all that you do, above and beyond the call. And I don't go home to three children at night. And it looks like you do a great job of that too. You're a kind of Wonder Woman.” And then he looked more serious for a minute. “I'm surprised your husband took a position in Beijing and left you to manage three very young children by yourself. That's a lot to ask.”

“We didn't have much choice. An irresistible opportunity came up that was too good to pass up. And I didn't feel I could leave. I don't want to lose my place at
Vogue.
And then your firm made me the offer right before he left. I feel like I belong here for now. And he felt he had to be there. We're trying to make it work.” She said it sincerely with a serious expression as he listened.

“And how is it for you?” He seemed sympathetic and concerned.

“It's too soon to tell. It's been kind of a relay race for me since he left, but so far so good.”

“It's challenging keeping up a marriage from five thousand miles away. And China is a whole different world. I think you were right not to go. I don't think you'd be happy there. Shanghai maybe, or Hong Kong, but not Beijing. It's still too rough, although all the big French designers are opening stores there. But you have an important role here, especially now with us.”

“I'm very excited about it,” she said, smiling at him. “It's a wonderful opportunity for me. I've always wanted to consult, it gives depth to my job at
Vogue,
to work in the real world, not just the lofty world of editorial.”

“You're helping us a lot. I hope we have a lot of opportunities to work together,” he said quietly, and then put his hand over hers. “You're an extraordinary woman. I hope to see more of you.” Valerie blushed and took away her hand as quickly as she dared. He was very charming and she had the feeling that he was courting her, although that seemed impossible, and she decided she was imagining it. He couldn't be. Even though he was flirtatious, she didn't think he'd pursue a married woman with three children.

Charles drove her home after dinner, and she didn't invite him up for a drink—that seemed too personal. And then he turned to her before she got out of the car. Her long shapely legs were crossed over each other in the chic little black dress.

“When can I see you again? Would tomorrow be too soon?” She was shocked by the question. He knew that she was married and had young children, but he also knew that her husband was gone for a year. She wondered if he thought their marriage was in trouble and that was why Jean-Philippe left.

“I—I don't know if we should,” Valerie said as directly as she could without offending him. She worked for him, after all. “I had a wonderful time, but I don't want to give anyone the impression we're dating. That would be wrong.” He liked how proper she was, he respected women like that, although he wasn't always equally proper himself.

“Is your husband as faithful to you?” he asked her bluntly.

“I hope so,” Valerie said in a soft voice.

“Are you sure?” he inquired, sowing a seed of doubt that she refused.

“Yes, I am,” she said more firmly, trying to remember how much Jean-Philippe loved her, and she loved him. She had never been in a situation like this before, with a man who wanted to go out with her even though she was married.

“No one has to know we're dating,” Charles said carefully. “That's between you and me. All anyone needs to know is that we work together and we're friends.”

“I can't date anyone,” she said clearly. “I'm married.”

“We'll be friends, then. Until you see things in a different light. Perhaps when we get to know each other better.” He was refusing to take no for an answer and hear what she was saying. It was unnerving to realize how determined he was. He kissed her lightly on the cheek then, and she got out of the car, and he watched as she went to the door, entered her code, and let herself in. She waved, and then it closed behind her. Her heart was pounding as she ran up the stairs.

And the next morning she received the largest bouquet of red roses she'd ever seen, with a note from him. “I am haunted by you, and in awe of you, Charles.” She had no idea what to do about him. She didn't want to lose the consulting job, and she couldn't date him. He called her again two days later, and invited her to lunch, which seemed harmless and less risqué than dinner, so she went, to try and explain her situation to him again, and at the same time, his pursuing her so elegantly was embarrassingly appealing in some ways. She would never cheat on her husband, but Charles's attention was flattering. She told herself that lunch was hardly an infidelity, and she didn't need to feel guilty about it.

Charles looked thrilled to see her when she arrived at Le Voltaire, which was just below his apartment, and one of the chicest bistros in Paris for many years. She had been there often before, and felt more at ease there than she had at Ducasse. He brushed aside her qualms, and they talked about myriad subjects. And she was shocked when she realized they had been at the table talking for three hours, and she was late getting back to the office. He dropped her off again, after darting the Aston Martin expertly through traffic, and she was smiling when they got to
Vogue.
She'd had a wonderful time, and felt more at ease with him every time she saw him, which worried her a little.

“Thank you, Charles. I had a great time at lunch.”

“So did I. I always have fun with you. I'll call you tomorrow.” Had she been single, she would have been excited about him. But as things were, she was panicked. What if Jean-Philippe was doing the same thing in Beijing? Sending women roses, and having elegant dinners with them, and meeting them for lunches at chic bistros? Without meaning to, she felt herself sliding into deep waters and was afraid to get in over her head. Charles was very smooth, and clearly very smitten with her. Or was he just looking for another conquest? Or playing with her? He could have any woman he wanted.

She tried to slow him down when he called again, and she told him she couldn't see him, she was taking her children to the park and needed to spend time with them. And he arrived at the Luxembourg Gardens where she said she was going, with a gift for each of them, and they were excited. And worse, she realized that she was happy to see him too. He bought them all ice cream and stayed with them for quite a while, and then he left and the children waved goodbye to him as though he were an old friend.

“I like Charles,” Jean-Louis announced. He had given him a little red model car that Jean-Louis loved, Izzie a small doll, and Damien a teddy bear he was clutching.

She didn't hear from Charles after that all weekend, and he called Monday and invited her to dinner. He said there was a new Indian restaurant he wanted to try, and Valerie started to tell him she couldn't, and then gave in. He was a very persuasive man, and incredibly seductive. At dinner he behaved respectfully toward her and didn't try to kiss her, and much to her horror she realized that she wished he would. She was suddenly totally confused. She didn't understand his motives or her own. She was in love with her husband, but was she falling for Charles? How real was it? This had never happened to her before, but she had never felt so alone as she did now with Jean-Philippe in Beijing. Jean-Philippe called her that night after she got home from dinner, and she was nervous when she talked to him on Skype, and he could see that she was troubled.

“Is something wrong?” She didn't want to tell him that she'd just been out for dinner with Charles. She didn't want to lie to him, nor tell him.

“Just tension at the office. The usual stuff,” she said vaguely, feeling guilty. Then she changed the subject: “How's Beijing?”

“I had an interesting weekend. I did some exploring. The shopping malls here are incredible. You would love them. And then for balance, I went to the Great Wall.” He had been meaning to do it for weeks and hadn't had time. “There are so many things I like about this city, and unfortunately just as many I don't.” And then he sounded wistful. “I can't wait to come home,” he said in a tender voice. “Another ten days. I'm counting the hours until I see you and the children.” It made her feel even guiltier, and reminded her that she was Cinderella at the ball, and she was about to turn into a pumpkin. When Jean-Philippe came home, she couldn't go out with Charles, and she didn't know how he'd react to that, but he knew she was married, and she had been honest with him.

The one she wasn't being honest with was Jean-Philippe. He had no idea what was going on and she felt terrible about it. But there was no way she could tell him, and there was really nothing to tell. The only thing that had happened was that she had had some lovely evenings and was now confused. She hadn't been unfaithful to him. Yet. But in her heart of hearts she knew that it had crossed her mind, about what would happen if she had an affair with Charles. She would never have thought it possible that she would think that way, but he had been subtly seductive and incredibly appealing since they'd started going out together. And he was even sweet to her children, which she realized they might tell their father. What had she been thinking to be so open with him? But with Jean-Philippe no longer part of their daily life—sometimes it felt as if he didn't exist. And she wondered if it was the same for him.

“I can't wait to see you too,” she said weakly, and then she said she had to go to bed, she had an early meeting the next day, which wasn't true. But she had run out of things she could tell him. He looked disappointed to end the conversation so quickly, but at least he'd see her in ten days. He told her he was longing to see her and she assured him she felt the same. She closed her computer after that with a groan. What had Charles done to her? He had spun her totally around. Or had she done it to herself? She was no longer sure.

Charles could hear the guilt in her voice when he called her the next day, and asked the same question her husband had. “What's wrong?” She was transparent to both of them. There was no artifice to her. She was an honest person, or always had been until now. Now she wasn't so sure.

“I don't know what I'm doing,” she said, sounding anguished. “I talked to my husband last night, and I lied to him. I can't tell him we're having dinner all the time. I'm acting like a single woman, but Charles, I'm not.”

“I know you aren't. You haven't lied to me. I know the rules. And I haven't pressed you about anything. I know this must be confusing for you. He's not here, and I am. And I'm not asking you to make any decisions now. I don't want to pressure you. I want you to be with me, Valerie, not with him. And that takes time. You can take as long as you want.” What he had just said to her almost made her gasp for air. He wanted to steal her from her husband, and he was being completely open about it, and she had been playing along with him.

“That's not right, Charles. I've never cheated on him before.”

“And you haven't now. And I assume he never moved to Beijing before. What did he expect? You don't leave a woman like you alone to fend for herself, and park you like a car in a garage. You deserve a man who adores you at your side, not one who goes off to seek his fortune and leaves you alone with three children. I'm sorry, but he deserves whatever he gets. You're the only woman I know who would put up with that, and feel guilty about being with another man.” They were harsh words, and she was shocked.

“He's doing it for us, for our future,” she insisted.

“He's doing it to feed his ego, because it's exciting for him to be on the new frontier and make a name for himself. I know, I've been there. I've done it too. But I didn't leave a wife and three children in Paris.” She couldn't help wondering if what he said about Jean-Philippe's motives was true. Maybe men recognized those things better than women did. “And you're the one who feels guilty, when you've done nothing wrong. He should be lying awake at night, consumed with guilt, not you.” It was the most candid he had been with her, but she had been honest with him too.