Underboss (With Me in Seattle Mafia 1)
“The French don’t keep American hours,” he reminds her, but his eyes are full of humor. “Who is your man?”
“I’m sorry, I got so excited, I completely lost my manners. Jean Luc, this is Carmine.”
I shake the other man’s hand, surprised by his firm grip. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you. Coming to Paris to fall in love is always a good idea.”
This makes Nadia blink rapidly and seems to catch her off guard.
“Paris is called the city of love for a reason, no?” he continues as he gets the two new purchases ready for Nadia to take with her. “I thought Nadia would never find her man, but I see I was wrong. You’ve been coming to see me for how long now? Six years?”
“About that,” she says quietly, clearly uncomfortable, but I step forward and take her hand in mine, giving it a squeeze.
“Six years, she always comes alone. Such a beautiful woman. I think she should be with someone. Not me. I am too old. But someone.”
He takes her credit card and expertly uses the new machine discreetly tucked to the side.
“So I’m happy you called and came in today and brought your Carmine.” He passes the card back and asks her to sign the slip. “I will worry less.”
“Jean Luc, you’re the sweetest.” Nadia leans over and kisses his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m perfectly fine.”
With fondness, he tucks an extra little box into Nadia’s bag and walks us to the door.
“Enjoy your time in Paris. You’re welcome to come see me anytime.”
“My credit card is already weeping,” Nadia says playfully. “But you know I’ll come see you every time I’m here. Take care, Jean Luc.”
He waves us off, and we stroll away. I take the bag to carry and lean over to kiss her temple.
“That made you uncomfortable.”
“I’ve never known that man to talk so much,” she says. “He’s always so quiet. I assumed he didn’t speak English well. Then, I bring you with me, and he’s Chatty Charlie. It’s just weird.”
“No, weird is paying what you just did on used purses.”
She gives me the side-eye and then raises her chin defiantly. “You just don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me. I’d love to see what you do when you look at those bags.”
“Okay.” She nods and then offers me a grin. “I’m getting hungry. Let’s go to Café Flore for lunch. We can chat about it there. It’s not far.”
“You’ve spent a lot of time in Paris,” I comment as we make our way to the café.
“I wasn’t lying when I told you that it’s my favorite city. When I don’t have anywhere to be, I come here. I roam the streets, wander the museums, you name it.”
“And meet interesting Frenchmen who sell you old accessories.”
She smirks as we cross the street to the café. We’re seated, and to my utter shock, Nadia orders our lunch in perfect French.
“What?” she says when she turns back to me.
“You speak French?”
“Yeah, but don’t tell Jean Luc. I like him thinking I don’t so I can pretend not to understand when he tries to upsell me.” She winks and takes a sip of her coffee, but her face sobers as I continue watching her. “What is it?”
“There are moments I realize that I don’t know nearly enough about you.” I reach over and take her hand. “I thought I’d already learned so much, but I realize that I’ve only scratched the surface with you, Nadia.”
“Well, we spent the better part of three months lying to each other,” she reminds me. “Then, we had a job to do.”
“That’s not a good excuse.”
“It works both ways, you know. I don’t know much about you, either.”
“Then, for the next two weeks, we’re going to do exactly that. Learn about each other. So, tell me about the bags.”
She shimmies in her seat. “My favorite topic.”
“What was it about these two bags that you loved?”
“It’s two very different reasons. We’ll start with the Chanel. Coco Chanel lived here in Paris, at the Ritz, actually, but she also had an apartment above her boutique. She didn’t sleep there. She gave parties and worked there. I’ve never been upstairs, but I’ve been on the stairs, and it’s a trip, let me tell you. Anyway, she went to a little café near the Louvre called Angelina. Every single day. She sat at the same table and always ordered the hot chocolate. It’s a short walk from the Ritz. We’ll go. You’ll never feel the same about hot chocolate again. And I think Chanel’s quality is insanely good, especially the vintage pieces. And because this bag was made before her death, she may have held it herself. I love the history of it, and it’s always in style.”
“Fair enough. And the other?”
“That was Grace Kelly’s favorite handbag. Hence the name, the Kelly.”