Chapter 8: Viola
“Rayne?” Now what in the world was he doing here?
“Hi, Viola,” he said, grinning at me like that again.
The man seated with Rayne stood. “Mademoiselle Hunter?”
I looked at him. Who in the world was this guy? Maybe he was traveling with Monsieur Beaumont? He was far too young, and way too hot, to be the guy whose photo I’d seen on the Beaumont company webpage.
“Yes. I…I’m here to take Monsieur Beau—”
The stranger flashed me a charming smile. “I am Monsieur Beaumont,” he said, then chuckled. “I see you were expecting my father.”
Blowing it, Viola. Need to put on some Cinderella-style charm stat. “Pardonnez-moi, monsieur. Yes, admittedly, I thought I was supposed to meet your father. Professor Wallace asked me to bring you over to the college for a meeting this afternoon. My assistant phoned you?”
He nodded. “Yes, just let me gather my things.”
“I hope you aren’t feeling too jet-lagged,” I said. Surely, Professor Wallace realized the man might need some sleep.
“Not at all. I slept on the plane,” he replied as he stowed his papers into a briefcase.
“Oh, and I have something for you as well,” I said, turning my attention to Genevieve. “Judy said you hadn’t been by to pick up Lavender Fields’ tickets for the Cherry Blossom Ball. I brought them along.”
“Thank you, Viola. That was very kind of you, but I don’t think…”
I pressed the tickets toward her. “Do come.”
“I hardly have a thing to wear.”
“New dress shop in town, right Rayne?” I said, angling to get some help. Genevieve was the most successful lodging proprietor in Chancellor, but she rarely participated in social events. I liked the woman. There were a lot of people in town who could help her if she just socialized a bit more. The ball, which most of the chamber of commerce members attended, would be the perfect chance to get her out and about.
“There is. New designer. She just opened a place on Main Street by The Glass Mermaid.”
“Threaded Bliss Bridal Boutique,” I added.
“That’s the place,” Rayne said.
Genevieve smiled shyly. “I’ll think about it.”
“And you…Julie said you didn’t answer her text,” I told Rayne then, referring to the conversation I’d had an hour earlier with my brother’s girlfriend.
“Julie sent a text?” Rayne replied, confused. He pulled out his phone. “Ah. Dead battery.”
“I swear, why do you even carry that thing? You never have it charged.”
“I can tell the time by the slant of the sun and placement of the stars. Who needs a cell phone?”
“You know it does more than tell time, right?”
Rayne chuckled. “What’s up?”
“Barbeque at SerendipiTEA Gardens tonight. Six o’clock. Not sure what that equates to in rays of the sun,” I told him with a wink.
“That’s what time the sun sets over the lake,” Rayne replied, matter of factly.
“Really? I never noticed.”
“Well, that sounds like something I need to remedy.”
“Is that so?” The image of Rayne and me walking hand in hand along the beach at sunset gripped me with such a feverish desire that I had to force myself to focus. “Sounds…perfect. But for now…” I said then turned my gaze back to the startlingly young and handsome Monsieur Beaumont who was grinning at Rayne and me. “Monsieur, are you ready?”
“Oui, but I didn’t dare interrupt. I wanted to see how it would turn out,” he said then looked at Rayne. “Well done,” he told him with a wink.
Rayne grinned then stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Luc,” he said then turned to me. “Is Luc’s schedule full? Perhaps he’d enjoy an American-style barbeque and some pleasant company.”
There was a glint in Rayne’s eye, not the usual sparkle that lived there, but something more mischievous. What did he have up his sleeve?
“I don’t believe so. I’ll check with Professor Wallace. If you aren’t busy this evening, perhaps you’d like to join us?”
“Merci. Of course,” Luc replied.
I couldn’t help but notice Rayne grinning happily. He then turned to Genevieve. “And you, Ms. Harper? How about a night off?”
Genevieve shifted nervously. “I have so much to do here. The house is full. The dinner rush…”
“Come after. The food will be amazing. The company even better,” I told her.
She smiled. “If I have a chance.”
“Monsieur Beaumont,” I said then, motioning toward the door. Fully aware that I had a chemistry test tomorrow morning, the last thing I wanted to do was piss off Professor Wallace by running late. “Call Julie,” I told Rayne.
“Will do. Drive carefully,” he said with a wave.
With that, we headed outside. The scent of lavender drifted across the field, perfuming the wind. I stopped and inhaled deeply. “Spanish lavender,” I said absently.
“Oui. Good nose,” Luc said as he slipped into the car.
“Thank you. My family…we try to incorporate local ingredients in our fruit wines. We’ve used some of Ms. Harper’s lavender before. My nose is trained on the grape, but it has higher aspirations.”
“So Professor Wallace mentioned.”
“Nosing the wine is one of my specialties, but I’d like to move into your trade one day.”
“Perfumery?”
I nodded.
“No better place to study than in France.”
“Perhaps, once I’m done with my degree.”
“We offer an apprenticeship program over the summer. It’s a very exclusive program, but Professor Wallace spoke highly of your academics.”
I tried to hide the excitement that shot through me like a lightning bolt. But a moment after I considered it, I knew it was impossible. Dad was back at the helm, but I was still needed at the restaurant, and France was so far from….everyone. “Sounds like an amazing opportunity.”
“It is. But it’s only for people with a good nose.”
“Well, I’ll put on my best Cyrano de Bergerac then.”
Luc smiled, and we drove up the hill toward the college. All the while, my mind was busy playing out the dream of me walking through French lavender fields dreaming up the next Chanel No. 5. And for some reason, in that fantasy, I couldn’t shake the image of Rayne walking at my side.
Chapter 9: Rayne
“Rayne!” Horatio Hunter called happily when I pulled into the parking lot of Green Earth Apothecary and SerendipiTEA Gardens. Behind the shop was a small garden area that Julie, the shop owner and Horatio’s girlfriend, had transformed into the perfect backyard terrace, complete with a brick grill which Horatio was manning. Julie, her red hair shimmering in the dimming sunlight, was covering a long, butcher-block outdoor table with a flower-print tablecloth. She waved to us.
“We’re late,” Alice scolded as she hopped out of the truck.
I glanced at the setting sun. “No, we aren’t.”
“Maybe I’m just hungry,” she said with a laugh.
“You do own a restaurant, you know.”
“Shut up.”
Chuckling, I stuffed my hands into my pockets and followed Alice onto the terrace. The smell of burning hickory wafted up from the grill where Horatio was stoking the fire.