Paris Was The Place I Met My Billionaire Lover (My Sweet Billionaire Love Story Series) (11 page)

Stepping out of Spago, Julien stopped as if frozen in his tracks, gazing up at what have been, for him, a terrible sight.

A billboard pictured the amazingly, almost supernaturally beautiful Garbrielle St. Germaine, wearing an old-fashioned bodice, her perfect breasts heaving, her otherworldly lips pouting.  The handsome actor Brad Pitt stood next to her on the billboard, a pillowy pirate’s shirt on his perfect frame.  The film’s title, in an ornate, flowery font, was
Forever Love.

“Forever Love?” Julien said,  “But of course.”

“Oh, Julien, I’m sorry...”

Julien spat out a little chuckle, shaking his head.  “Sorry, why?  I was lucky to have known her.  Look at her; she is beautiful, no?”

“Very,” Caitlyn said.

“And our time together was most unhappy,” Julien added, pulling Caitlyn into his arms so they could both look up at the huge billboard together.  “Do you not see that this is a message, a sign?”

“Well, it
is
a sign, it’s a billboard.”

“No, Caitlyn.  Don’t you see?  She is telling me, and you; telling us both, that ours is the forever love, it is as if she is wishing this for us, urging us to accept it for ourselves, and for each other.”

Caitlyn looked again, seeing some of what she knew Julien envisioned.  But she also saw an almost impossibly pretty woman, who was once married to this man.  Caitlyn knew she wasn’t as pretty as Gabrielle, and would never be.

How on Earth can I measure up to that?
she wondered.  Then she remembered,
I don’t have to.  Ours is the forever love, the sign said so.  She’s given us her blessing.

Now if I could only get my father’s.

Caitlyn took Julien to the beach at Malibu, Point Dume, where a sharp rocky crag protruded out over the cliff above the Pacific Ocean.  It was still late spring, so the only surfers were the die-hards, wet-suited young men and women with thick limbs, tanned faces, dusty blonde hair.

The warm breeze pushed Caitlyn’s own hair back, brushing lightly against her shoulders.

Julien said, “It is truly lovely here, spectacular.  Did you spend a lot of time on the beach as a young girl?”

“Summers,” Caitlyn said with a bittersweet smile.  “And I spent a lot of time riding horses, even archery, things like that.  I had a pretty great childhood, now that I think about it.  Funny that I was so pissed-off about it just a few weeks ago.  But it sure is beautiful here, no question about it.”

Julien kissed her temple through her silky blonde hair.  “So is New Zealand, and Spain, and Greece; all places we shall see together.”

“But this is home, Julien, just like Paris is home for you.”  Caitlyn hadn’t realized she felt so strongly about it until she heard her own voice say it.

Home.

“Caitlyn, you keep speaking as if we’ll never be back.  But we will.  Who knows?  We may even live here someday.”

“Really?  You mean it?”

“Is that what would make you happy?”

Caitlyn’s rush of optimism surprised and confused her.
Isn’t this the exact place I wanted so desperately to escape from just a few weeks ago?
she had to remind herself. 
Isn’t this the same sameness that was driving me crazy?  There’s still that big world out there, waiting to be seen.

Or is this just me being unable to be happy?  Will the grass always be greener on the other side of the fence?  Will I ever be able to enjoy the moments of my life simply for what they are?

And why is it always about me?  What about my family?  What about Julien?

She turned to him.  “Is it what would make
you
happy?”

Julien’s smile melted away.  “I... I have never given any thought to living anywhere other than Paris, given the chance.”

“What are you two up to here in Los Angeles?”  Caitlyn and Julien turned to see a chubby white man in his mid-twenties, wearing a stained, ill-fitting denim jacket, his red hair a curly bush, a Canon XL-1 on his shoulder as he gazed into the LCD screen on the side of the camera.

Julien gazed at the paparazzo, but tried to ignore him, Caitlyn struggling to follow his lead.  “But you
have
lived in other cities,” she said.

“What plans do you two have for the future?” the paparazzo asked.  “Is it true that you were kicked out of France?”

“Kicked out of France?!” Julien repeated in disgust.  “I will tear your throat out just for saying such a thing, you worthless dog.”

“There’s that temper again,” the paparazzo said, stepping back, “just don’t tear my head off too, all right?”  Julien nearly lurched at him, but Caitlyn’s hand on his shoulder held him back.

“That’s what he wants, Julien.  Don’t play into it.”

They turned and walked on, ignoring the paparazzo’s calls of, “Whatever, just trying to help you out!”

After a considered silence, Julien said, “Caitlyn, I have to tell you, on one of your last days in Paris, when I took a meeting at the
Louvre
...”

“Yes?”

“It was not a pleasant meeting, Caitlyn.  Actually, they brought me in to terminate my contract.”

Caitlyn’s stomach sank, hot and thick and heavy.  “Because of ... what happened, the news and all of that?”

“I’m afraid so,” Julien said.  “Being on the news, exposed, it compromised my ability to consult the
Louvre
on their security issues.  It seems I myself became something of a security issue.”

Oh no,
Caitlyn thought,
and the fact that he was on the news at all was my fault!

Instead, Caitlyn said, “But they didn’t fire you?”

Shaking his head, Julien said, “They did not.  But it was a delicate negotiation, I can tell you. 
Mon Dieu
.  In any case, I must return to Paris to fulfill my contract with them.”

“And how long is the contract?”

“The
Louvre
is huge, Caitlyn, as you saw.  I expect to be there for a year, at least, perhaps longer.  But that means stability for us, Caitlyn -- ”

“I thought you had a fortune socked away?”

“Caitlyn, this is my career, my profession, I cannot retire now even if I wanted to  And I do not want to.” 

Caitlyn nodded, head rolling on her shrugging shoulders.  “But you’d have me make the sacrifice to leave my own life behind?”

“Precisely the opposite,” Julien said.  “Your life is waiting for you with me, in Paris.  There is nothing more for you here, you must realize that.”

She did, even if it was getting harder and harder to admit.

“You are young, Caitlyn, and can still make a new life, a new career, anywhere in the world.  But I am lucky enough to have found the one honest way in which a man with my skills and expertise can make a good living.  And if I walk away from the
Louvre
, I’ll be, how do you Americans say, dead in the water?  No other museum will hire me.”  A moment passed, Julien shaking his head as Caitlyn took what she knew could easily be her last glimpse of the Malibu shoreline.  “No, Caitlyn, I must return to Paris.  Soon.”

* * *

With time running so short, and thought becoming such a burden, what little time they had left drew them inextricably into each other’s arms again.  After over an hour, Caitlyn and Julien were still clinging to each other and to withering remains of their relationship.

Caitlyn straddled Julien, easing herself steadily and sturdily onto him.  He filled her wholly and completely as she sank down.  Julien and Caitlyn were a perfect physical match.  Caitlyn knew Julien well now, eagerly welcoming him back to her clenched confines.  Caitlyn gyrated as she lowered herself onto all that passion and strength.

Caitlyn moved faster.  A thick lump rose in her tense throat, teeth gritted as Caitlyn hissed and moaned and pouted and wrapped herself around Julien, pulling him even further in. 

Caitlyn vigorously bounced, the magnified and magnificent pressure nearly ripping her young apart.  Caitlyn’s heart was pounding, her rib cage was shaking, her tired lungs were doing their best to keep up and barely managed to do so, struggling to push her system further and faster.

More grinding, tighter clenching, sweat rolling down, steam rising up; no mere words could pass between Caitlyn and her Julien.  Flesh wriggled, spasmed, pink was swollen to purple; purple too hot to touch.

Julien pushed himself deeper and Caitlyn’s hips pulled and twisted to draw every drop of energy from his massive presence.  Caitlyn felt Julien release again, her body quaking as her fabulous Frenchman finally relented to his body’s primal needs.

For every need, there was a unique set of satisfactions; for every desire, a particular release.

Caitlyn was spent; dizzy, numb, aching.  Caitlyn turned over to cuddle on Julien’s massive, hairless chest.  Caitlyn closed her eyes, her tired smile trembling to hold its ground on her glistening face.

* * *

Caitlyn knew she was at a crossroads, and that the moment of decision would soon be upon her.  And she also knew pretty well what choice she’d be making, which road she would choose to travel.  It made the next two days all the more precious.

Sabrina and Robbie came to visit, having lunch with them at the famous and infamous Chateau Marmont.  Comedian John Belushi died here, a place where the famous still stayed and ate and met and played.

Harrison didn’t come.

“He doesn’t know, actually,” Sabrina said as she picked up the check, staring down Julien’s attempts to coax it away from her.  “He thinks I’m out shopping.”

Caitlyn shook her head.  “With me in town for another two days and he thinks you’re out shopping?  Mom, either you’re lying or he’s drunk.”

Sabrina pulled her head back, shoulders straight, posture rigid.  “Caitlyn!  He is not drunk!  Maybe I was being... well, okay, he’s having lunch with Sam, getting some advice on all this.  He wants to do the right thing.”

“Then why doesn’t he?” Julien asked her.  “All she wants is his blessing.”

“And all he wants is her happiness.”

“Then this is something else your husband and I have in common.”

“Um, excuse me,” Caitlyn said, “I’m right here.  Doesn’t anybody care what I have to say about it?”

“But of course,” Julien said, his accent making him sound every bit the Frenchman.

“Go on, dear,” Sabrina said.

Caitlyn paused.  In the ruckus, she didn’t really have anything in particular to say, she was more inspired by her dislike of being spoken about in her own presence than by the need to express any specific point or another.  But it was too late now.  Julien and Sabrina looked at her expectantly, their attention focused on whatever adult, mature point she was about to make.

Finally, Caitlyn said, “My happiness is my own responsibility, thank you very much.”  She sat and listened to the silence that followed.  It was true.  It was clever.  It was both mature and adult.  And she could tell by the impressed glance shared between Julien and Sabrina that she’d more than made her point, without knowing before hand precisely what that point was.

Back in the bungalow, Caitlyn asked Robbie, “How are things at school?”

“Awright, I guess.”

“That punk still giving you trouble, that ball player?”

Robbie shrugged.  “Danny Fine.  He’s a dick.”

“Robbie!” Sabrina said, Caitlyn and Julien chuckling under their breath.

Caitlyn said to Julien, “Show him that thing you did, to the kid in Paris.”

Julien said, “You mean...?” and then mimed the sharp twist of a head between his splayed hands.

“No, no,” Caitlyn said, “God no.  That thing you did in the museum, where you grabbed his hand and forced him right to the ground.  In the museum...”

Julien thought about it, then nodded, turning to Robbie.  “
Oui oui.
  Robbie, imagine you are having a conflict, a fight with someone bigger, madder...”

“They’re always bigger and madder, that’s why I’m having the conflicts...”

“
Exactement. 
All you need to do is get him to extend his hand to you and you and
voila
, you can put him on the floor, completely helpless.  I’ll show you.”

Robbie stepped in front of Julien.  “But how do I get him to extend his arm?  Should I fake  a friendly handshake and then -- ?”

“No, Robbie,” Julien said, standing in front of Robbie.  “If you extend your hand in friendship, always mean it and never betray it.  If this man, or any man, wants a fight, all you need to do let him start it.  Then you will use his own aggression against him.”

“Like kung fu,” Robbie said. 

“
Oui,
Robbie.  Get him to punch you and his arm is extended.  You try it.  Punch me.”

Robbie stood there for a moment, awkward silence filling the room.

“I dunno... punch you?  I’m not really a punching kind of guy...”

“C’mon, Robbie,” Caitlyn said with a smile she couldn’t contain, “you can trust him.”