A Rainy Night in Paris Ch. 08

Standing on the Petit Pont, Samantha Bowers thought she was the luckiest woman alive. As the daughter of an oppressive father, she had held out little hope of escaping his house except as the bride of a similarly narrow-minded husband. That she had managed to escape to New York had been a minor miracle to her mind and one she was constantly happy about. Then finding a job that would give her the opportunity to travel to Paris and other exotic locations was simply incomprehensible to her. She still felt that it was a dream and she would wake up to find herself pregnant in the bed of some strange man she had been forced to marry. And then, when it looked like she was on the verge of not only blowing the meeting but the entire opportunity, she had met a man that was caring, good looking and had the potential to help her in more ways than she could have hoped for. His passion in bed and that he seemed to actually care about her for no other reason than it was his good nature was just beyond anything she had hoped to achieve. If it was a dream, she did not want to wake up.

Alex had taken her back to bed after almost physically throwing Josephine out of his apartment, slamming the door and threatening to call the Gendarme if she persisted. Samantha had been shocked at both his vehemence and his actions as he spoke He had told her later that it was not a threat and that the Gendarme already had quite a file on Josephine but he would not elaborate more beyond that, saying the past was the past and it was behind him.

They had made love and showered and he had made them a breakfast that was more American than it was French. She had devoured every bite and two cups of coffee which he admitted was actually from Kona. It turns out he had a friend on the Big Island that ran a small plantation and every six weeks or so a shipment of coffee showed up. Alex told her that he gave most of it to Martin for use in the restaurant. An added draw, he described it. Be he did keep some for his own use. After they had finished breakfast and she had pulled on her clothes for the day, he had given her a small book, exactly like the map book he carried in his pocket. The first couple of pages contained a map of the Metro and the city, the next few were blank, although he had filled one with little tips about places to avoid and some rough advice that any tourist in the city might need. He had filled a couple of pages with phone numbers, his, Monique's, Martin's and a couple of others that he assured her she would want at some point if she needed to find him and he was not answering his cell. Not all of them were in Paris and some of the addresses were not even in France. He had added some of his favorite cafes, bistros, restaurants, shops and galleries, complete with their map locations to the list of numbers and names, but had left her more than plenty of unfilled pages that he assured her she would fill in her visits to Paris in the future. The book had come wrapped in a small box, accompanied by a gold tipped fountain pen. After all, he reasoned, she was in Paris and only the best would do for writing when one was in Paris and one should always take a moment to write when one was in Paris. The pen was a twin to the one he used, only with a purple body, while his was encased in blue.

He had kissed her on the door step, pointing her in the direction of the fashion district and making sure she knew where she was going before excusing himself and heading in the opposite direction, towards the station and the trains to Dijon and the parts he needed to fix Monique's dress maker. Greg was going to meet Samantha at the station in the early afternoon and Samantha and Monique were going to plan a better strategy for making sure that Samantha got what she needed without wasting her time chasing down mediocre merchandise. Alex would join them for dinner or as soon as he could get there.

Samantha took another deep breath and began her walk towards the fashion district. She was smiling slightly as she remembered that he had tucked a couple of francs in the book as well, for "mad money" he said and she seemed to remember that there were several lingerie shops listed in the book as well. She would give Monique a call before she decided which one to visit, once she was done with her meeting. Business first, she reasoned despite feeling happy and feeling like she owned the city. She walked deeper into the canyons that would lead her to her appointment.

"Good afternoon, mademoiselle, how are you this afternoon," Greg asked as he opened the door of the sedan for her.

"Hello, Greg. I am well enough, although I had a completely horrible meeting. It would seem that Maison de Ville does not 'deal with uncultured Americans, no matter who recommends them' and it would seem that my company's money is not enough to turn their opinions around. Personally I think it is just an excuse to change their American distribution chain."

"You are probably correct. From what Monique has told me, Maison de Ville has been looking to break Hermes's hold on the silk scarf overseas, even though their product is not on the same level. Why, it is a product you would see at Target for example. You could certainly do better for your client I think. Monique could better advise you of course," he said as they pulled away from the curb and into the late afternoon traffic and Samantha found herself surprised at his knowledge, not only of the various houses and their products but at the quality of goods carried in stores in the United States. She herself had judged their scarves, while of good quality, not otherwise outstanding and certainly not what she was looking for.

"Greg, I don't know how I could have managed any of this without having met you or Monique. Or Alex for that matter. I really feel like a fish out of water. Rachel is a great person, but I feel like I am trying to trade on her reputation and I am not her. Of the two houses I have met with though, I wonder what Rachel ever saw in their merchandise. It certainly is not of a quality for one of our stores even though the price certainly is," she said, sounding somewhat rueful even to her own ears.

"No, you are not her, you are your own person with a different eye and a different set of requirements and standards and I suspect you will make better contacts. Or you will make different contacts. Or you will find something completely different that is new and original and will take the world by storm, I have no doubt."

"Thank you Greg, I certainly hope so. I really do like shopping. It just seems to be so difficult though when you are shopping for a large organization. More difficult than I thought it would be at any rate."

They had pulled into the large circular drive way and parked behind a white Citroen that had clearly seen better days. Greg made a small noise in his throat.

"I am guessing that is not Alex's car?" Samantha said with growing dread.

"No, it is not. It is Miss Josephine's."

"We've met."

Greg turned to look at her over the back of the seat and she quickly reiterated the events of the morning to him.

"Trust her to be so, déclassé," he said with a little mirth. "But if anyone is capable of dealing with her, it is Alex and it sounds like he is getting tired of 'being polite.' Although it is about time."

"Yes, he was not very polite when he tossed her out that is for sure. So, what do we do? Clearly, I think my presence should not be shoved in her face."

"No, I quite agree with that. Come with me." With that they got out of the car and rather than walking in the front door, they walked around to the side of the house and in the door that lead directly to the kitchen. "Why don't you take a seat Samantha and I will go and let Monique know you are here."

Greg left the kitchen carrying a tray with a glass of wine on it and Samantha smirked at the glass he had left her on the table. Walking over and picking it up, she silently saluted his thoughtfulness as she took a sip from it. She strolled around the kitchen, impressed with the array of utensils and pans. It was bigger than her apartment and half the size of Alex's, and she figured she could cook a Thanksgiving dinner for her entire family in it and still have room for another three or four families worth of food and seating. Giant windows looked over the deck of the pool, trees in the garden blowing lightly in the fall air. She was taken by the simple beauty of it all, wondering what she had done to even earn the right to stand here and enjoy the view, much less be able to walk out onto the deck. It was not something that happened to people like her.

"Monique would like you to join her in the library," Greg said, coming back into the kitchen.

"Thank you Greg. Is Josie still here?"

"Learning bad habits from Alex are you?" he asked with a smile, pouring himself a glass of wine and topping off Samantha's glass. "She absolutely hates that name. Good for you," he said smiling. "She was storming out as I came back down the stairs."

"Alex is full of bad habits it would seem. More than a couple I would love to learn," Samantha was smiling.

"Oh, I am sure he is. Here, take this into Monique. I expect she is going to want more after her daughter's visit." Samantha took the bottle Greg passed her and left for the library.

The foyer was quiet, the only light coming from the setting sun, bathing the white marble in a pink hue. Monique was sitting in a chair in the library reading, her empty wine glass by her side on the table between the chairs.

"More wine, Monique," Samantha asked as she got closer.

"Yes please, and aren't you thoughtful, although I suspect that Greg handed you the bottle on your way out of the kitchen, which makes him twice thoughtful," she said, somewhat more flighty than Samantha remembered her being the night before. "Please tell me that Josephine did not disturb your morning over much?" She seemed concerned as she asked the question.

"Ask Alex. He is the one that had to answer the door."

"Yes, he told me all about it when he called this morning. You are both saints in my book," she said reaching over and patting Samantha gently on the arm. "Now, tell me all about the meeting you had at de Ville. Were they as horrible towards you as they are to most Americans they don't know?"

"Worse I think. Between my age, the fact that I am not Rachel and the fact that I really was not overly impressed with what they were showing me, they just did not feel I was someone they wanted to do business with. I also noticed one of the buyers from our competitor coming out of the shop before my meeting with them, but I did not bother to mention that to them. No sense infuriating them further."

"Right you were, dear. They are not known for their good humor. Now, if you have time tomorrow, I think we should go and see Madam Villeneuve. She is a wonderful lady and I have not talked with her in quite some time. Yes. That would be perfect. I will pick you up at 10. Are you staying with Alexander?"

Samantha could not help the blush that coloured her cheeks as she answered. "Yes, I am."

"Good, that will make things easier. Now, I expect that we will have to fend for ourselves at lunch. Then, perhaps we should go by the office and I will introduce you to a couple of people that might be able to assist you better, Amanda and Michelle. You will love them. Well, Amanda maybe not so much. You see, she has been trying to get our darling Alexander into her bed for years now and he just won't have anything to do with her. It reconfirms my high opinion of him you know, but she is a wonderful girl otherwise. Michelle, well, Michelle is Michelle and a wonderful girl and I expect the two of you will get along famously."

Samantha could not help giggling at Monique's antics as they discussed the day to come and what sorts of things Rachael had expected her to find. Monique listened both to the litany of places she was supposed to visit as well as the items she was supposed to find and then proposed her own list of locations to look at, most in different areas of town that were "off the beaten track" as she said and more unusual than the routine things that Samantha was supposed to be looking for without being so avant-garde that they would never sell anywhere but specialty boutiques.

"Although, you know, if you keep your eyes open and take a few samples back with you, you could entice some of those boutiques to front your next expedition," Monique said, thinking out loud.

"And just where am I supposed to get the francs to front the items now?" Samantha asked somewhat sarcastically, her old self starting to show through as she became more comfortable with Monique.

"What items are we fronting this week?" Alex asked from behind them. "My fence in London is already overworked you know."

"Alexander, you are a bad man. Don't you know this is a private conversation?" Monique asked in a sudden pique.

"It is? Well then why is the door open?" He reached across the table and stole a sip of Samantha's wine while coming around the chair in the opposite direction to give her a kiss.

"Of course it is. How can I offer with you here, knowing you are going to counter?" Monique asked as Alex gave her a friendly kiss as well.

"Who says I am going to counter anything. I just spent a couple of thousand francs getting you new parts for your machine, Monique. I'm broke."

Samantha jerked in her chair but Monique just laughed. "A likely story," Monique continued. "If you are broke, then you will quickly be repaid for the parts, with a large percentage upcharge added to the cost if I know you, and then you will take the money directly to the bank, where you will invest it in some lucrative stock venture that will return you a thousand fold the cost of the parts you purchased today, and on my credit line, no doubt."

"Never could fool you, could I Monique," Alex said, pulling up a chair. "But in this case, I bought them on my own credit line and I have already given Greg the bill and he has already written me the cheque for it, so we are all done on that account."

"But what about labour?"

"Monique, I am sure we can work something out."

"I am sure we can Alexander. Now, as I was about to say, Samantha, there are plenty of opportunities and in many cases the vendors would be more than happy to give you samples on spec, but in those rare cases where they won't I am sure we can find someway to finance them. I am not without means you know."

"Monique, I couldn't...," Samantha began.

"Tut, tut, we will not discuss what you can and cannot until such a time as we need to decide what we need to do. Alexander, dear, you are coming with us tomorrow, correct?"

"I don't know, Monique, where are we going and who is we?" Alex asked looking at the two ladies. He knew Monique was cooking something up, but without a lot of the details, he did not know whether or not to head her off at the pass or just let her continue on her merry way. Such was the nature of her plans as he had learned in days past.

"Good, then it is all settled. Alexander, Greg and I will pick you and Samantha up at ten o'clock sharp tomorrow morning at your apartment and we will go from there."

"Yes ma'am," Alex and Samantha said in unison, before laughing at their own antics.

Greg entered the library soon after, announcing that dinner was ready and the four of them retired to the dining room and soon afterwards, Samantha and Alex had returned to the apartment, overlooking the little Italian bistro and thereafter they were soon both fast asleep.