Nights In Black Lace by Noelle Mack Page B

again.”
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    She flipped open a ring binder packed with sales figures, sales projections, client comments, sketches, and everything else she could cram into it, flipping the pages with the eraser end of her pencil.
    â€œBecause you work too hard, Odette. You need someone like him. A real California beach boy.”
    â€œHe is not a boy.”
    Marc raised his eyebrows. “It is only a phrase. How old is he?”
    â€œTwenty-five, I think. Or twenty-six. I cannot remember if I asked or what he said. That is my best guess.”
    â€œAnd he is not from the beach?”
    â€œHe grew up near there. He has a degree in marine biology and he wishes to go to graduate school.”
    Marc looked pleased. “A smart beach boy. Even better.”
    â€œToo smart, perhaps,” she muttered. “Please, Marc. I have work to do.”
    â€œOf course. I just wanted to satisfy my curiosity. And by the way—the fitting model will be in at noon. She called to say that she was throwing up.”
    Odette made a face. “Disgusting. I wish they would not do that.”
    â€œIt is unfortunate. Should I have Lucie order coffee for you? Ah, no—you mentioned having breakfast.”
    She smirked. “Yes. But thank you.”
    Marc gave a nod and left her office.
    Odette leaned back in her chair and looked up at the gloomy sky overhead. Then she glanced at her binder, not eager to immerse herself in spreadsheets. Fashion was no longer fun or creative. It was numbers-driven. Clients were nervous sheep, who wanted a sure thing they had never seen before.
    There were times when she wondered if she should leave the business.
    She put down her pencil and put her head in her hands, feeling a headache coming on. Odette reminded herself of how many people she employed and also of her charitable commitments. Walking away from her company was not an option at the moment.
    Her night with the freewheeling American seemed to have shaken her up in more ways than one.
    Pah. She was too old for romantic fantasies about a man changing her life. You are almost thirty, she reminded herself. That wasn’t old at all, though.
    She wished she could take off and wander the world for a little while. With Bryan. Was it possible that he…well, what if he were to come back to Paris someday, when she was not so busy…
    Odette felt a sickish sensation creep into her stomach. He really didn’t know who she was, but he was bound to find out sooner or later. She ought to confess as soon as possible.
    Being successful was not a crime. Feeling flirty and wanting an uncomplicated encounter also was not a crime.
    Sex with him had been extraordinary. Her unexpected feelings for him had overwhelmed her. What a mix. Tenderness. Curiosity. Passion. Was it because she’d set aside her identity that she’d felt so free?
    All he had to do was type in her name on Google to find out about her. But then again, why would he? He had no reason not to believe her. She hoped.
    If it came to that, she would explain as best she could. Make it up to him. Contribute a large sum to his favorite charity. Save The Oysters. She supposed they needed saving, along with everything else?
    No. She had a feeling he could not be bought and she could not be such a hypocrite, because she ate oysters. Raw if not kicking.
    Preoccupied, Odette chewed her pencil and pored over her binder.
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    The Japanese buyers had come and gone by the time Odette looked at her watch. She had five minutes to get all the way to Chez Prune in north Paris and meet Bryan.
    â€œLucie!” she called. “I cannot work late tonight! Where are you?”
    The girl scurried to her door. “Here. Go.” She was holding Odette’s light coat, which she thrust out to her boss, along with an umbrella. “I will close up.”
    â€œ Merci! ” Odette dashed down the winding marble staircase, swinging on the turns with one hand on