A Perfect Life: A Novel by Danielle Steel Page B

but Blaise’s interest was piqued by his history, and the brother he had helped, and the mad scientist father. They sounded like an intriguing group.
    “My mother is a poet. She’s French. She publishes every five or ten years with obscure publishers who do poetry that no one wants to read. She’s from Bordeaux, and she was a student of my father’s. He’s twenty-two years older than she is. He was a confirmed bachelor when they met and fell in love. They married a year later, and they’re very happy together. They’re both fairly eccentric, but it seems to work. Or at least it has for the past thirty-five years. So that’s my background. What do you think, Miss McCarthy? Would you like me to come to New York? I think I can be helpful to you and Salima while the school is closed. And I’m a fairly decent cook.” In fact, he had studied at Cordon Bleu in Paris and spent two college summers as a
sous chef
, but he didn’t tell her that. “I’ll do my very best.”
    “We don’t have much choice,” she said with a bleak look. She couldn’t take care of Salima alone.
    “I think with a little guidance, Salima will need a lot less assistance than you think.” His goal, if he went with them, was to make Salima as independent as he could. It would be his gift to her. Unlike Abby, who had kept her in a cocoon.
    Blaise was no more convinced when she left Eric’s office, butthey really had no other choice. And as Eric walked her back toward the cottage, he told her that Simon’s mother was not just French, she was a Rothschild, and his grandfather was a baron. And as she walked the rest of the way to the cottage, Blaise thought about him again. He was obviously intelligent and good looking and everything she didn’t want in her home. They were two women. She didn’t want a man taking care of Salima, or even around her, no matter who his grandparents were.
    As soon as Simon left Eric’s office, he took his bicycle and rode into town. He stopped at a house with a dilapidated front porch, and hurried inside. He had told Megan he would meet her there. She was also a teacher at Caldwell and had left the school the night before. And there were toys everywhere. She lived there with her husband and three sons.
    “Are you going?” she asked him, looking anxious. He had called her the night before to tell her of Eric’s offer, to send him to New York with Blaise.
    “Yes, I am,” he said quietly, standing in her kitchen, which was a mess. She hadn’t cleared the breakfast dishes away yet. And in spite of the fact that she was married, he’d been in love with her for three years. “I have no other choice. I need the job, and she needs the help.” He looked at Megan with despair. “We’re going nowhere, Meg. You said you were getting divorced. That’s the only reason I got into this. If I thought you’d stay with him, I never would have.”
    “I was going to, then his brother died, he lost his job, and hismother got sick. What do you expect me to do?” There were tears running down her cheeks. “I don’t like this either, but I can’t just kill the guy on the way out.”
    “You’re killing me. I never wanted to be in a situation like this. It’s dishonest. I’m tired of sneaking around, while you tell me how miserable you are with him and don’t leave. And one of these days, he’ll figure it out and kill us both. Or just me. Or you, which would be worse. I love you, Meg. But I’m not trying to steal you from him. You told me before we started that you were leaving him. You never did. It turned into a huge mess with us sneaking around and lying to him while you drag your feet. That’s not how it was supposed to be. If you want us, you have to get out of this mess on your own so we can start clean.” It had gone on for three years. “Maybe three months away from each other will do us both good. It’s too depressing this way.” He couldn’t call her at night, or on weekends. Either her husband was