Chapter Four
1599 Words
“Are you all right Miss?” Stephen asked with concern as they exited customs.
“I’m fine,” Macey sighed. “Air travel has never been my favorite.”
“It will be much easier from here.”
Hailing a cab, Stephen loaded her luggage into the trunk, then gave instructions to the driver. Macey listened, amazed at the ease with which he handled the situation.
“Stephen, I didn’t know you could speak French.”
“I can’t.”
“But.”
“I learned a bit when I came here to set up your apartment,” he said, “but I only know enough to give the correct address.”
Macey was silent for a time, “I’m going to need to learn.”
“Miss?”
“French. If I’m going to stay here I really should learn the language, don’t you think?”
“You have a point. It will be useful when you begin attending school. But the state has several remedial programs, specifically for immigrants to learn the language.”
After a moment, she said, “Classes are good, but I think I’ll learn faster and more naturally with a tutor.”
“Very well. I’ll make arrangements.”
“You will?”
“Of course,” Stephen agreed. “Mister DaLair insisted I should see to all of your needs and make sure you would be comfortable before I left.”
“Thank you.”
They spent the rest of the ride in companionable silence. Macey spent her time looking out the window. Taking out landmarks, the view was surprisingly normal. She could have been just about anywhere. Unexpectedly, she took comfort from this. This was her home now, after all.
Reaching their destination, Stephen paid the driver and helped her out. Refusing her help, he hauled her luggage himself, escorting her into a beautiful stone building. She had expected a simple two-bedroom apartment, but a short ride in the elevator brought her to a surprisingly modern space.
It had an open concept with wide windows, overlooking the city. The kitchen was clean with stainless steel appliances for a fresh feel. There was even a dining area with a small circular table. A counter top separated the kitchen from the living room, which was fully furnished. The furniture was sleek and comfortable with wide cushions upholstered in soft gray tones that complimented the warm-colored area rug and rich wood side tables.
Macey stood surveying the space with her mouth open in shock. This was far from what she was expecting. When Augustus asked her what kind of accommodation she needed, she said something simple and reasonably priced. There was no way this apartment was within her budget.
“Is something wrong, Miss?” Stephen asked. “Anything not to your liking?”
“No, it’s fine, but this is too much.” Macey shook her head.
“This was the bare minimum Mister DaLair would allow.”
“But I don’t need—how am I going to afford this?”
“Not to worry. The rent will be deducted automatically from an account Mister DaLair set up.”
“An account? What account?”
“A bank account,” Stephen went to a small office nook and took out a checkbook. Inside was a debit card with her name on it.
Macey stared at the beginning balance noted in the book and almost fell over. Wide-eyed, she stared at him in disbelief. Augustus said he was going to support her through her college education, but this was too much.
“It is the bare minimum,” Stephen assured her.
Macey let out a slow breath. Having known Augustus DaLair since she was little, she knew exactly how overbearing he could be, though he always meant well. As a man who dearly loved his family, knowing he would be so far away from his grandchild, he was no doubt very worried.
It was actually rather surprising he agreed to let her move to Paris in the first place. Her gaze fell on the checkbook again. Just because he gave her this much didn’t mean she had to spend it. It was a small concession, but one she could at least accept.
“Would you like to see the nursery?”
Nodding, Macey followed him to one of the bedrooms. It was quite large and would give the baby ample room to grow. The walls were a neutral color. The dresser, crib, swing and changing table were white with light green accents. Opening a dresser drawer, she saw it already stocked with onesies, booties and sleepers. The only thing missing was the baby.
With a small smile, her hand settled on her stomach. Eight months from now, that place would be filled. Slowly turning, she saw Stephen watching her. Blushing, she gave him a genuine smile for the first time since their arrival.
* * *
Victoria stepped out of the cab with a sigh, checking her phone for the address one more time before entering the building. Though she was generally confident and carefree, she had to admit she was feeling a little anxious about this meeting.
She had seen the advertisement a week ago for a private tutor willing to teach remedial French to a newly arrived immigrant from America. Like many people, she didn’t have a favorable opinion of Americans in general. They were arrogant in their claims of coming from the greatest country in the world, as if their country never did anything wrong or didn’t have problems. At least other countries admitted their shortcomings.
Then there was the American fascination with s*x and sexuality when, at the same time, they were completely uncomfortable with their own bodies. They either saw themselves as too fat or too thin, too short or too tall. Half the population was busy trying to reach some unattainable ideal, while the other half simply gave up on life and succumbed to obesity.
Victoria readily admitted she was a bit freer than most when it came to her body. She had no problem with her own self-image and was completely comfortable in her own skin. Her Bohemian lifestyle certainly wouldn’t be considered typical, even by French standards, but she had no regrets and certainly no desire to change. But she was also broke.
Money was the only reason she applied for the position. The amount offered was considerably more than she would ever make as a nude model or florist. Both were previous occupations she had maintained over the years. If she was going to achieve her dream of being a designer, she needed some funds to procure material and preferably a good studio to work in. If it meant putting up with a spoiled American for a few hours every day, then it would be worth it.
Knocking on the door, she waited. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but a rather tall man in a business suit was not one of them. He gave her a quick appraising eye.
“Miss Laurent, I presume?”
“You presume correctly, Mister…”
“You may call me Stephen. Please come in.”
He escorted her inside and settled her at the dining table. Offering her something to drink, he sat across from her reviewing her application on his phone.
“So what kind of teaching experience do you have?”
“I was an au pair when I was younger. Most recently I acted as a teaching assistant.”[1]
He nodded. “And you do not have an issue conducting lessons while also acting as guide?”
Victoria merely shrugged, “Real world interactions will probably help develop a more natural way of speaking. So, sure…”
Stephen eyed her carefully. Perhaps her answer was a little more carefree than he was hoping for, but she was the most promising candidate. Of all the applicants, she was the closest in age to Macey herself. It was his employer’s hope Macey’s tutor would also be a friend to help her acclimate to her new home.
Before he could ask for a more detailed answer, the door opened. He stood as Macey entered. Surprised by her interviewer’s reaction, Victoria stood as well and got her first look at the woman she would be teaching.
She wore ear buds connected to her phone as she followed along with a language program, practicing pronunciation. Her red hair was barely contained in a scrunchie and her clothing was modest but neat. She carried a backpack slung over one shoulder. It was clear she had just come back from her language class as she was still practicing the day’s lesson.
But something was off. This woman was a little too pale, the rings under her eyes a little too dark and her gaze unexpectedly haunted. It was clear she had suffered and if Victoria had to guess, it was probably love. Love could easily make or break any woman.
Setting down her bag, the redhead realized she wasn’t alone. Pulling out her ear buds, she said, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be here. Um, bonjour?”[2]
Victoria fought back a laugh. There was something genuine and sweet about this woman. This wasn’t what she expected, but she was pleasantly surprised.
“Miss,” Stephen nodded. “This is Miss Victoria Laurent. She is your language tutor.”
“Oh, hello. I’m Macey.”
“It’s nice to meet you Macey,” Victoria stepped forward, offering a hand. “Just call me Vicki.”
- Writer
