Ade screwed her nose up, noticing herself in the little video pane on her phone.Does my forehead always crease that way?“It’s a long way to travel just to shut Dad up.”
“True. But you’ll love it. And I’ll love it. It’s the gap year of our dreams, sister.” Steph got up and spun around the room. “Make the most of it. Push your comfort zone. Drop Sylvie a little message and ask her to show you some sights.” She winked.
Ade bit her lip. Maybe she would.
“I’ll give you a call this weekend. See you in a few weeks so we can get ready for Thanksgiving. Save me a big squeeze.”
“Will do.”
“Love you,” Steph said.
“Sure.” Ade coughed. “Love you too.” She did love her sister. More than anyone else, really, if she admitted it. She’d spent her whole life basking in the confidence of her slightly older twin. In the sudden silence, she missed her voice already.
It would be a lonely year if she didn’t fill it with something. Her animals gave her so much, but they weren’t the same kind ofcompany. She craved the easy, low-key sense of self she had when Steph was by her side.
Maybe she should give Sylvie a call? Isolation was simpler, and sitting at the edge of her comfort zone did not come easily, but the idea of a whole year overseas with nothing but her own thoughts left her cold. Sylvie had already proven herself a worthy conversation partner; she wasn’t too chatty either, which was a real bonus. Ade typed a quick text and studied her cell for a count of ten, weighing the pros and cons of sending it.
At home, she’d stuff her hands in her pockets and put it off. Today, though, something in the air gave her a newfound confidence. She lifted her chest with an unknown boldness. Maybe Sylvie would be good for her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sylvie sippedher steaming black coffee and brushed away the flakes of her morning croissant. Sunday mornings were a real treat. Colette was one of a handful of café owners who prescribed pastries and caffeine to hungover revelers.
It worked. Every single week, the city’s finest clubbers filed in for their carb load, while the church bells rang across the square. Sylvie shuffled the pages of her book and scanned the crowd of hedonistic twenty-somethings. All hair and fashion choices, clashing in color and confidence; they wouldn’t look out of place in the university common room.
She glanced down at the denim jeans and classic cashmere she’d pulled on this morning, a hint of her Parisian roots. She wouldn’t be caught dead in some of the outlandish choices of her students. She sat upright, pondering her maturity. Was she showing her age? With the drama of leaving Paris and seeking a new career in the south, her mid-thirties had snuck up on her. She liked to think it wasn’t obvious, but in a room full of students brimming with youth, she couldn’t be so sure.
“Can I get you anything else?” Colette asked, balancing a tray of empty coffee cups at shoulder height.
“Not for now, thank you.” Sylvie smiled.
“Anytime, my darling.” Colette peered over Sylvie’s shoulder. “What’re you working so hard on there? You’ve had your head down for more than an hour.”
She sighed. “I’m treading water on my book edits. I don’t know why I put so much pressure on myself. It’s not like anyone will read it.”
“What’s it about?” Colette wrinkled her nose with what lookedlike genuine curiosity.
Sylvie tried to think of something fun and entertaining.Nope.The truth was she was writing something so academic even her professorial peers had stifled a yawn when she pitched it at last year’s conference.
“Well?” Colette shifted the weight of her tray. “Is it a secret? Some dark erotic fantasy that you’ve been working on deep into the night?”
Sylvie’s scoff attracted the attention of a neighboring table. “Not likely.”
“I find that hard to believe.” Colette winked and whooshed past a group of undergraduates jostling each other on a bench.
A motley crew of individuals, all sharing the same brash optimism and spark. Their expressions were wild and free, their body language fluid and bold. As she rested her gaze on each person, their unique collection of clothing struck her. Androgynous and effortlessly neutral, but exotic and attractive.
Her thoughts drifted to the chaperone in her charge. Just a couple of years senior to this troop, Ade had a similar look. Rough at the edges, as if no care had been taken at all. Yet she seemed to pull off a look that was put together and deliberately magnetic. Sexy, even. Sylvie had never been attracted to a person with no deliberate definition of their gender.
She shook her head, reminding herself that Ade was also at least a decade her junior.Anda member of her staff team. Thinking anything like that would lead to trouble.
But once born, the thought stuck and twisted inside her mind as she twirled the last of the croissant on her side plate before dipping it into her cold espresso. And it was much more interesting denying her attraction than picking up her pages and highlighter pen.
Romantic dalliances hadn’t come thick and fast. Since moving south, she’d kept herself to herself.
But in the year since she’d arrived here, she’d isolated herselfmore than ever. Her friendship circle had shrunk down to Isabelle, and she couldn’t possibly consider Colette her friend. Including the café owner from next door really was clutching at straws.
She missed Elda and was looking forward to their annual get-together. She scribbled in her notepad to remind herself to finalize this year’s details. The year marched on, and they still hadn’t agreed whether she’d be traveling to England or vice versa.
