Shark Out of Water (13 page)

“That is a job you could do from home,
oui
? Moving may not mean losing your place in the company you work for. They could possibly reduce your workload when you are undergoing treatment, make you
à
temps partiel
. I mean, half-time, or contract employee, yes?” Guy offered.

Charlotte stared at him in confusion. “I thought you were going to talk me into staying?”

“
Oui
, I am,” Guy said, smiling, “but not for the wrong reasons.”

She shook her head at him. “Guy, I don’t want to leave, but I don’t know how to stay.”

“You stay by letting people help you. You stay by making a plan that makes remaining in Chicago easier.”

Charlotte pulled her legs up onto the couch, sitting with her legs tucked beneath her. She faced Guy squarely. “Are you telling me that you have a plan…already?”

“I am not so bold as to say I have a plan for everything, but I think there are things that could make this easier for you here.”

“Such as?”

Guy hesitated. After her comment about not uprooting Warren, he worried she would be against his first suggestion. It needed to be made, however. “If you could find a house or ground level apartment still in Warren’s school district, would you consider moving? The stairs are going to be difficult for you during treatment.”

Even having suspected that Charlotte would not like his suggestion, he did not expect her to begin sobbing. He was too shocked to react immediately. When he did, she pushed him away when he tried to comfort her. He refrained from touching her, but he could not stay silent. “Charlotte, I am so sorry. I did not mean to upset you.”

“This is the apartment Jackson and I bought and moved into after we got married. It’s where we brought Warren home together. This is the only place Warren spent time with his father.”

Understanding the source of her pain, Guy sank into the couch. “When did Jackson die?”

“Three days after Warren was born,” Charlotte said through her tears. “He went to the store to get a few of the things we didn’t even know we needed for Warren. I fell asleep after he left. When I woke, it was dark and I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t gotten home yet. I tried calling his cell phone so many times. I was frantic by the time the police knocked on the apartment door.”

No longer able to resist comforting her, Guy pulled Charlotte into his arms. She curled against his chest without hesitation. He stroked her hair as he held her. “What happened?” he asked when she had calmed somewhat.

“A woman wasn’t paying attention and ran a red light. She was speeding and hit Jackson’s car right where he was sitting. The police said he was killed by the impact. It was so sudden. I was left to raise our son on my own while I was trying to grieve for my husband. I almost moved home after it happened, but I couldn’t bear to leave the apartment.”

Guy stayed silent for several long minutes. He understood why leaving the apartment behind would be difficult for Charlotte, but he worried staying would make life much more difficult for her. Even so, the topic was clearly not an easy one for her to face. “Let’s not talk about the apartment right now.” He pushed her back from his chest gently. “What about Warren? Have you considered arrangements that may need to be made for him? The girl, Mindy, she is still in school,
oui
?”

Wiping away tears, Charlotte nodded. “Yes. She watches him after school now, and I think she’ll be able to walk him to school for me if I can’t, but I can only afford so much per week for daycare. And if I’m not working, I don’t know what I’ll do to cover everything.” She shook her head. “I have to make sure Warren is taken care of. If I went home, at least someone would be there every day to make sure he has what he needs.”

“Did you know,” Guy said, “that Carmody is a stay-at-home mom and a registered nurse?”

Charlotte shook her head, clearly perplexed by the question. “No, I didn’t.”

“Carmody’s husband, Michael, is also a chef who earns a very good income and Carmody is always looking for play friends for Lily.”

Still unsure of the point, Charlotte peered up at him carefully. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I am telling you this because you do not seem to believe me that you will have all the help you need if you stay here. I do not know if you believed that Warren’s presence alone would make me run away from you, or if knowing that remaining your friend will mean helping both you and Warren made you think I would leave, but neither one is true.”

Pushing up off the couch, Charlotte began pacing in front of the coffee table. “Why? Why are you even here, Guy? Why are you so determined to help me?” She stopped pacing and stared him down. “I knew Jackson since high school. We dated for over a year before he told me he loved me. I don’t know if this is some kind of French cultural thing where you think you’re in love and you’re determined to win me over, or if you’re just a weirdo who’s become fixated on me, or one of those guys who needs to feel like they’re rescuing women all the time to feel fulfilled. I have no idea, but I don’t know what to do with you! I don’t understand what’s going on in your head, because most normal guys would be gone by now.”

Guy said nothing. He waited until Charlotte’s agitation calmed and her chest stopped pulsing frantically with every anxiety-laden breath. When he was sure Charlotte was ready to listen, Guy stood and approached her slowly.

“Charlotte, I am not in love with you,” he said. He was amused when she frowned in what seemed to be disappointment. “I am not dismissing the idea of such a thing,” he said with a smile, “but I make no such claim now, though you are very beautiful and I enjoy being with you very much. While it is not uncommon for French men to come on strongly when they are interested in a woman, this is not the reason I am here.

“I will admit that I was intrigued by you on our first meeting, but if you tell me tonight that my presence is not welcome, I will not seek you out,” Guy promised. “Neither am I the type of man who constantly needs to rescue women. I could give you the mobile numbers of past girlfriends and they could attest to that fact.”

“Then why?” Charlotte asked again.

She did not resist when Guy took both of her hands in his and held them between their bodies. He stared down at her hands for a long while before turning his attention to her worried expression. “I do not connect with people often. My family taught me to have a public persona, superficial interactions that were polite and pleasant, but to hold back deeper emotional connections for family and close friends.” Guy shook his head.

“How did they expect you to make friends or have a real romantic relationship if that’s how you always acted with people?” Charlotte asked.

Guy nodded. “That is the problem. The friends I have now are people I spent years with in school, or many, many torturous French lessons with, such as with Carmody.”

“You taught Carmody to speak French?” Charlotte asked.

Shaking his head dramatically, Guy laughed. “I am still attempting such a feat. Lily speaks the language better than Carmody.”

His response made Charlotte chuckle, but she still seemed worried. “If it has taken you so long to let them into your life, what are you doing here with me tonight?”

“I do not know,” Guy replied honestly. “You may know better than I.”

Charlotte seemed startled. “I didn’t do anything. I just talked to you.”

“But it was different. You saw and treated me differently.”

“But I didn’t,” Charlotte argued.

“
Oui
, you did. I do not mean to sound conceited, but most women are taken in by my accent and appearance. You were not. It was as though you looked through what I show people and saw me for true… for real, I mean. You saw me and seemed to accept me without question.”

For some reason, Charlotte laughed. Guy instantly felt self-conscious, wondering if he had misjudged Charlotte’s reaction to him. He frowned when she freed her hands from his. She pressed them to his face a moment later, capturing his attention. “You thought I wasn’t taken in by you?” Charlotte asked with a laugh.

Guy shrugged. “You did not seem to have been.”

“I was a little distracted at the time,” Charlotte said. “Dr. Myles had just given me all my test results and laid out my treatment options.” She shook her head. “It says a lot that you were able to pull my thoughts away from all of that enough to have a semi-normal conversation.”

His hands slid around her waist as he grinned. “Is that true?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes at him. “Guy, you’re gorgeous and charming and incredibly sexy. Don’t even pretend you don’t know that.”

“You are interested in me?” Guy asked in surprise. “More than friendship?”

“Well,” Charlotte said, taking a step back from him, “I would be if I wasn’t about to go through chemo and probably lose my hair and spend the next two years feeling like I’ve got the worst flu in the world.”

“After, then?” Guy asked, his grin teasing.

Instead of being offended by his attempt to lighten her concerns, Charlotte laughed. It was just a chuckle at first, but it grew into a full belly laugh. She had Guy laughing as well until they both sobered as reality rejoined the conversation. Charlotte looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “You’re serious, aren’t you? About all of this.”

“
Absolument
,” Guy said without hesitation. “I am absolutely serious.” Charlotte’s bottom lip began to tremble. She reached out for Guy’s hand, not resisting when he pulled her into his embrace. No other words needed to be said.

Chapter 15

Très Fou

Guy was not sure what woke him. He blinked and attempted to reach up and rub his eyes, but his hand would not come. It took him a few moments to clear his vision and take in his surroundings. Confusion set in when he registered molded ceiling panels. His flat had no such thing, though these reminded him of years past. He moved to sit up, but found himself stuck again. Only when he looked down, did he realize he was lying on a couch and Charlotte was asleep next to him, with his arm serving as her pillow.

All attempts to get up vanished. He relaxed next to her and carefully drew her hair back from her face where it had fallen during the night. He remembered, then, how emotionally exhausted they had both been after their talk the night before. They had sat down on the sofa afterward, intending only to let themselves calm down a bit before saying goodnight. Clearly, they had been more tired than expected. Not that Guy minded. It was soothing to hold Charlotte, to protect her from fears and worries, but he was not sure how she would react to finding him there next to her. Not wanting to cause any problem, he reluctantly slipped his arm from beneath her head and settled her on the sofa without him.

Once he was standing, he was unsure of what to do. Should he leave? Did she realize he had stayed with her all night? If she did, what would she think if she woke up and found him gone? Her faith in him was tenuous at best. He feared doing anything to make her doubt him. Although he knew it might upset her to find him here if she did not know he had spent the night, he thought it a better option than simply disappearing.

Checking his phone, Guy realized it was quite early, only just after sunrise. He was not sure what time Charlotte was expected at work, but he assumed Warren’s school started close to eight o’clock. He was expected to be at the hospital for his shift at seven that morning. He debated whether or not to wake Charlotte right away. He knew she was tired still and did not want to disturb her too early, and thoughts of Warren distracted him from waking her.

Turning away from the living room, Guy quietly moved into the kitchen. He had told Warren that he would see what he could do about French toast if he ever happened to be there in the morning. Guy hated to disappoint him, but he really had no idea how to make such a treat. He was quiet as he pulled out his phone and dialed.

“
Maman
,” Guy said before she had a chance to answer, “I need to know how to make French toast.”

She huffed in irritation at him speaking to her in English instead of French. “You are calling me for a recipe?”

“
Oui
, I need your help.”

Sighing, his mother said, “Why don’t you just hire a
gouvernante
?”

“I do not need a housekeeper,
Maman
, and even if I had one, it would not help me in this case.”

“Why not?” She was quiet for a moment before speaking again, her tone much softer. “You are not at home,
n’est ce pas
? You are cooking for someone? For a woman?” The shock in her voice was more than clear. Guy rolled his eyes, feeling suddenly embarrassed by his mother’s words.

“For her son, actually,” Guy said defensively.

Instead of being reprimanded, his mother sighed warmly. “I can help you,
mon fils
.”

Guy was distracted by how kindly his mother spoke, telling him the simple ingredients and instructions on how to prepare the meal. He worked as quietly as he could, searching for bowls and pans and everything he needed. His mother spoke as he worked, interspersing her cooking advice with other random topics. He had out everything he needed a few minutes later and felt confident he could remember the steps she had told him, so he prepared to tell her goodbye, but his mother had one more thing to say.

“Will you bring her and her son with you next week?” she asked. “I would very much like to meet a woman who could inspire my son to step inside a kitchen and call his
maman
for cooking advice.”

Guy was stopped short by her request. “I had not asked her,
Maman
. I have only known her a few weeks. I do not even know if she has a passport for herself or Warren. And…” His voice trailed off, not about to go into the details of Charlotte’s health. “This may not be a good time for her.”

His mother was quiet for several seconds before asking, “You have only known her a short while, yet you are doing such things for her?” She paused, considering something, and Guy did not fill the silence with a response. “Will you ask her?”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I want to meet her. A gift for me, for your father as well.
S'il te plait
?”

Made uncomfortable by her request, Guy shook his head. “I will ask, but it is likely she will not be able to come.”

“I understand,” his mother said, “but I want you to ask.”

“All right, fine,” Guy agreed. He gave her a hasty goodbye and focused his attention on his first attempt at making French toast.

He was not sure if the noise he was trying and failing not to make, or the smells of the food, were what woke Warren, but Guy was startled to find his mop of bed hair and bleary eyes looking up at him when he turned around sometime later. Warren yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth as he was too busy trying to rub his eyes. When he finished, he looked up at Guy curiously.

“I thought you weren’t going to be here when I woke up?”

Guy stared at the boy, whose dark eyes were scouring Guy intently. Two slightly burnt pieces of French toast were balanced on his spatula, startled halfway through delivering them to a plate. “It was not my plan. Your
maman
fell asleep on me when we were talking.”

Warren climbed up into a chair at the table and propped his head on his hands. “She does that a lot lately. She’s tired all the time.”

“
Oui
,” Guy said, not sure what to say after that. He went back to the French toast, setting the pieces he had just finished on a plate, which he set in front of Warren.

In turn, Warren looked at them appraisingly. “What’re all these black parts?”

“Uh,” Guy said with a laugh, “I am afraid I am not very good at making French toast.”

Warren only shrugged, then hopped down from his chair and opened the pantry door. Guy listened to him bang things around for several seconds before walking over to help and seeing him struggling to get a bottle of syrup off the top shelf. He reached in to help him, but Warren blocked him, saying, “I can do it!”

Guy backed off and watched him step completely into the pantry, using the bottom shelf as a step, to reach high enough. He looked so proud of himself when the bottle finally began to move toward him. Unfortunately, it fell straight for his head. Quick reflexes saved Warren from a bruised forehead, but not from damaged pride. He looked defeated when he realized Guy had stopped the syrup from falling on him.

“You must be a very tall boy,” Guy said as he set the syrup in Warren’s hands. “I could not reach so high when I was your age. I was stuck pinching crackers and raisins from the bottom shelves when I was young.”

Warren’s expression relayed that he suspected Guy was only saying that to make him feel better, but he grinned anyway. “I’ll get the butter from the fridge.”

Guy nodded his consent and went back to the stove to flip another round of somewhat burnt slices of toast. Warren was settled back at the table, pouring an inordinate amount of syrup over his toast, when a surprised sound drew both their attention to the doorway. Charlotte stood on the threshold, staring. She did not say a word as she reached down and plucked the syrup bottle from Warren’s hand before coming over to stand next to Guy at the stove.

She looked down at the French toast, then back up at him. “What are you doing?”

“Making
petit déjeuner
.” She stared up at him in confusion. “Uh, breakfast,” he clarified. “I told Warren I would if I was here.”

“But, I thought you didn’t know how,” she said quietly.

“He kinda burned them,” Warren offered, seeming to expect his words would be helpful. Charlotte did not seem to hear him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked Guy.

Suddenly worried that Charlotte was upset by his presence, he set down the spatula and looked away. “We fell asleep,” he began, “and I did not want to simply disappear and make you think…”

Charlotte rested her hand on his arm, drawing his eyes to hers. “Don’t you need to be at work soon?”

“
Oui
, but I have time.”

She glanced at the clock on the microwave, her brow furrowing. “You won’t have time to go back to your place to shower and change your clothes now.”

“It is fine. I can do so at work. This was more important.”

“But…”

Guy stopped her arguments with a shake of his head. “Charlotte, please sit down and eat.” When she did not move right away, Guy worried again. “If you are upset by me being here, I can leave.”

“No,” Charlotte said, finally smiling, “I’m not upset at all. I just worried that Warren’s request would make you late for work.”

“I thought perhaps you had not realized I stayed and you were upset.”

Charlotte’s stance softened. “I knew you stayed, and I’m glad you didn’t leave before I could tell you thank you.”

It was difficult not to grin at her words. Guy was well practiced at keeping his emotions hidden. He handed Charlotte a plate of French toast and gave her a gentle push toward the table. She walked away smiling. Guy joined them shortly after with his own food. As he ate, he knew his attempt at cooking fell short, but neither of them complained. Warren even told him it was a good try, which made Charlotte chuckle. Guy smiled at his undeserved praise.

“If you’re done eating, can you go get dressed and brush your teeth?” Charlotte requested of her son. With a sigh, Warren hopped down and trudged toward the bathroom. Charlotte stared after him with a curious expression. When Guy asked her if something was wrong, she looked over at him, staring for several seconds before saying, “Warren is usually so eager to get to school it’s tough to keep up with him.” She looked back at Guy, her smile growing. “He is quite taken with you, Guy.”

Although her comment pleased him, it also made him curious. He knew he risked being too personal, but he asked regardless. “Does Warren usually behave so friendly to the men you date?”

Charlotte seemed caught off guard by the question. It took her a moment to respond. “I really wouldn’t know. I haven’t been on more than a casual date, usually set up by a friend, since Jackson.”

“Then, you don’t bring men home often?” Guy asked, hoping the question did not seem rude.

“Uh, no,” Charlotte said with a shake of her head.

While Guy was surprised to learn men were not clamoring for Charlotte’s attention, he was confused. “Then, why did Warren ask me if I would be here in the morning as if it were normal for that to happen?”

The blush that colored Charlotte’s cheeks was captivating. “I really don’t know,” she said. “He completely surprised me with that comment. I have never allowed a man to stay the night before.”

“Never?” She shook her head, making Guy even more curious. He took a risk again, asking, “Have you been with a man since Jackson’s death?”

He almost regretted the question when Charlotte’s blush deepened to scarlet, but he could not bring himself to take it back. He waited, watching Charlotte’s expression until she answered in a quiet, embarrassed voice. “No, I haven’t.” She looked up at Guy, red coloring every inch of her skin. “Is that pathetic, or what?”

Touched by her honesty, Guy slid his chair closer to her and took her hands in his. “No, it is not. You loved him very much, yes?” She nodded and Guy smiled. “You are not a woman to give away her affection lightly. That is not a quality to feel shame about.”

Her lips turned up slowly, morphing into a teasing smile. “That is the last thing I would have expected to hear from a Frenchman who has seduced a significant number of the single women in Chicago. Are you sure you’re really French?”

“
Oui
, I am quite sure. You can ask my
maman
if you do not believe me.”

Guy’s teasing mellowed quickly as his conversation reminded him of his mother’s request. His hands tightened around Charlotte’s, the thought of asking her making him anxious. When he looked away, Charlotte slipped her hands out of his and gently pushed him to look at her.

“Guy, I’m sorry. I was just teasing. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about your past relationships. It wasn’t my place to comment. I wasn’t trying to judge you or anything.” She held her breath, clearly hoping he was not upset with her.

Guy shook his head slowly, placing his hands on her knees and leaning toward her. “I am not upset. You may judge me any way you see fit. I am deserving, no doubt.”