“Good. There will be a United Airlines ticket waiting for you at Charles de Gaulle airport.” He gave her the flight number. “A car will meet you in New York.”
MARK HAD SPOKEN to Kelly about Tanner Kingsley. Mark had met with him and thought he was a genius and a wonderful man to work for. Perhaps we could share some memories of Mark. The thought cheered her up.
Angel came running in and jumped onto her lap. Kelly hugged her. “What am I going to do with you while I’m away? Mama would take you with her, but I’m only going to be gone a few days.”
Suddenly, Kelly knew who would take care of the puppy.
KELLY WALKED DOWN the stairs to the building concierge’s office. Workmen were installing a new elevator, and Kelly winced every time she passed them.
The superintendent of the building, Philippe Cendre, was a tall, attractive man with a warm personality, and his wife and daughter had always gone out of their way to be helpful. When they had heard the news about Mark, they had been devastated. Mark’s funeral had been held at the Père-Lachaise Cemetery, and Kelly had invited the Cendre family to attend.
Kelly approached Philippe’s apartment door and knocked. When Philippe opened the door, Kelly said, “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Come in. Anything you wish, Madame Harris.”
“I have to go to New York for three or four days. I wonder if you would mind taking care of Angel while I’m gone.”
“Mind? Ana Maria and I would love it.”
“Thank you. I would appreciate it.”
“And I promise to do everything I can to spoil her.”
Kelly smiled. “Too late. I’ve already spoiled her.”
“When do you plan to leave?”
“Friday.”
“Very well. I will see to everything. Did I tell you that my daughter has been accepted at the Sorbonne?”
“No. That’s wonderful. You must be very proud.”
“I am. She starts in two weeks. We’re all very excited. It’s a dream come true.”
FRIDAY MORNING KELLY took Angel down to Philippe Cendre’s apartment.
Kelly handed the concierge some paper bags. “Here’s Angel’s favorite food and some toys for her to play—”
Philippe stepped back, and behind him Kelly saw a pile of dog toys on the floor.
Kelly laughed. “Angel, you’re in good hands.” She gave the puppy a final hug. “Good-bye, Angel. Thank you so much, Philippe.”
ON THE MORNING Kelly was leaving, Nicole Paradis, the receptionist at the fancy apartment building, was standing at the door to say good-bye. An ebullient gray-haired woman, she was so tiny that when she was seated behind her desk, only the top of her head was visible.
She smiled at Kelly and said, “We will miss you, madame. Please hurry back to us.”
Kelly took her hand. “Thank you. I’ll be back soon, Nicole.” And, minutes later, she was on her way to the airport.
The Charles de Gaulle airport was crowded beyond belief, as always. It was a surrealistic maze of ticket counters, shops, restaurants, stairways, and giant escalators crawling up and down like prehistoric monsters.
When Kelly arrived, the airport manager escorted her to a private lounge. Forty-five minutes later, her flight was announced. As Kelly started toward the boarding gate, a woman standing nearby watched her go through the gate. The moment Kelly was out of sight, the woman picked up her cell phone and made a call.
KELLY SAT IN her airplane seat, thinking about Mark, oblivious to the fact that most of the men and women in the cabin were covertly staring at her. What was Mark doing on the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower at midnight? Who was he going to meet? And why? And the worst question of all—Why would Mark commit suicide? We were so happy together. We loved each other so much. I don’t believe he killed himself. Not Mark…not Mark…not Mark. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back….
IT WAS THEIR first date. She had dressed for the evening in a prim black skirt and a high-necked white blouse so that Mark would not get the idea that she was trying to tempt him in any way. This was just going to be a casual, congenial evening. Kelly found that she was nervous. Because of the unspeakable thing that had happened to her when she was a child, Kelly had not socialized with any men except for business reasons or obligatory charity events.
Mark isn’t really a date, Kelly kept telling herself. He and I are just going to be friends. He can be my escort around town, and there won’t be any romantic complications. Even as she was thinking it, the doorbell rang.
Kelly took a hopeful breath and opened the door. Mark stood there, smiling, holding a box and a paper bag. He was wearing an ill-fitting gray suit, a green shirt, a bright red tie, and brown shoes. Kelly almost laughed aloud. The fact that Mark had no sense of style was somehow endearing. She had known too many men whose egos were involved in how elegant they thought they looked.
“Come in,” Kelly said.
“I hope I’m not late.”
“No, not at all.” He was twenty-five minutes early.
Mark handed Kelly the box. “This is for you.”
It was a five-pound box of chocolates. Over the years Kelly had been offered diamonds and furs and penthouses, but never chocolates. Exactly what every model needs, she thought, amused. Kelly smiled. “Thank you.”
Mark held out the bag. “And these are treats for Angel.”
As if on cue, Angel came bouncing into the room and ran up to Mark, her tail wagging.
Mark picked Angel up and petted her. “She remembers me.”
“I really want to thank you for her,” Kelly said. “She’s a wonderful companion. I’ve never had one before.”
Mark looked at Kelly, and his eyes said it all.
THE EVENING WENT unexpectedly well. Mark was a charming companion, and Kelly was touched by how obviously thrilled he was to be with her. He was intelligent and easy to talk to, and the time went by more quickly than Kelly had anticipated.
At the end of the evening, Mark said, “I hope we can do this again.”
“Yes. I would like that.”
“What’s your favorite thing to do, Kelly?”
“I enjoy soccer games. Do you like soccer?”
A blank look came over Mark’s face. “Oh—er—yes. I—I love it.”
He’s such a poor liar, Kelly thought. A mischievous idea came into her head. “There’s a championship game Saturday night. Would you like to go?”
Mark swallowed and said weakly, “Sure. Great.”
WHEN THE EVENING was over and they arrived back at Kelly’s apartment building, Kelly found herself tensing. This was always the moment for:
How about a good-night kiss?…
Why don’t I come in for a bit, and we’ll have a nightcap….
You don’t want to spend the night alone….
Fighting off the pawing…
As they reached Kelly’s door, Mark looked at her and said, “Do you know what I first noticed about you, Kelly?”
Kelly held her breath. Here it comes:
You have a great ass….
I love your boobs….
I’d like to have your long legs wrapped around my neck….
“No,” Kelly said icily. “What did you first notice?”
“The pain in your eyes.”
And before she could reply, Mark said, “Good night.”
And Kelly watched him leave.
Chapter 13
WHEN MARK ARRIVED on Saturday night, he brought another box of candy and a large paper bag. “The candy is for you. The treats are for Angel.”
Kelly took the bags. “I thank you, and Angel thanks you.”
She watched Mark petting Angel and asked innocently, “Are you looking forward to the game?”
Mark nodded and said enthusiastically, “Oh, yes.”
Kelly smiled. “Good. So am I.” She knew that Mark had never even seen a soccer game.
THE PARIS SAINT-GERMAIN stadium was packed to capacity, with sixty-seven thousand eager fans waiting for the championship game between Lyon and Marseille to begin.
As Kelly and Mark were ushered to their seats directly above mid-field, Kelly said, “I’m impressed. These seats are hard to get.”
Mark smiled and said, “When you love soccer as much as I do, nothing is impossible.”
Kelly bit her lip to keep from laughing. She could not wait for the game to begin.
AT 1400 HOURS, both teams entered the stadium, standing at attention while the band played “La Marseillaise,” the French national anthem. As the lineups for Lyon and Marseille faced the stands for introductions, a player for Lyon stepped forward, wearing the Lyon logo in the team colors of blue and white.
Kelly decided to relent and let Mark know what was happening. She leaned toward him. “That’s their goalie,” Kelly explained. “He’s—”
“I know,” Mark said. “Grégory Coupet. He’s the best goalie in the league. He won a championship against Bordeaux last April. He won a UEFA Cup and a Champion League the year before that. He’s thirty-one years old, six feet tall, and weighs a hundred and eighty pounds.”