‘Fantastique!What about this beauty?’ Manon points to a ruby-red chaise longue.
‘Replica, and not excessively priced. I have matching Louis XVI bergère chairs that will suit a library. I’ve got a range of occasional tables with marble tops; some need legs tightening, others the marble is marked or slightly chipped. I can do them for a discount.’
I’m still not convinced we can afford replica or even the in-need-of-refurb antiques, but I hold my breath and hope.
‘What about this?’ I’ve never seen a world globe as big as this. It could be a feature in the middle of the library. Library guests can sit with a book in their lap, a glass of wine in their hand, and spin the globe, a finger landing on the next city they’ll visit. We have a globe in suite nineteen but I’m still not sure about sharing those treasures.
‘This,’ Geneviève says, her eyes twinkling, ‘is more than just a globe and utterly perfect for your needs. Let me show you.’She removes the surround and opens the globe to reveal a bar. There is room for bottles of spirits, and it has six highball glasses sitting in brown velvet lining.
‘Ooh la la!’ I say. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘Do you have two of these?’ Manon jokes.
‘You don’t need one for your suite,’ I say with a laugh, admonishing her. Truthfully, I’d love one for my personal space too. What could be better than curling up in front of the fire after a long evening writing, pouring myself a cognac and spinning the globe, wondering what people on the other side of the world are doing right that second?
‘You’re making this very hard for us, Geneviève. I knew we’d fall in love with everything in here.’
‘No pressure but I can tally these up and see where we’re at. I offer deposit down, interest free payment plans to local Parisian businesses, so that might work too.’
‘Merci.’
‘That sounds good, right?’ Manon says, tugging on my arm. ‘You want the library to be the showstopper, and with those ruby-red chaises, it will be. You’ve got to spend money to make money.’
We’ve been so frugal with funds and have made do with what we’ve got and could repurpose, but the library room will look spectacular with furniture like this. Do I splurge, just this once? The payment plan is very tempting.
When Geneviève comes back, she slips me a sheet of paper with a figure written on it. It’s utterly French not to talk so openly about things as gauche as money. The price is more than I’d bargained on spending today, but the replicas are worth it and will add such elegance to the library.
Manon surreptitiously peers over my shoulder. ‘Do it, Anais.’
‘You’ve been very kind, Geneviève. We’d love to feature these antiques in Library Anaïs.If we could arrange the payment plan and delivery, that would be wonderful.’
We sort payment and logistics when a woman with a pixie haircut wanders in and greets us with a wave. She’s strangely familiar but I can’t think why.
‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘Won’t be long; we’re just finishing up.’
She sits on the ruby-red chaise we’ve just purchased. ‘Ooh, it’s OK, no rush. I’m Lilou; I work next door at Ephemera.’
Geneviève smiles as she hands me a receipt. ‘You might also know her as Paris Cupid.’
‘Geneviève,’ Lilou says with a sigh. ‘She just can’t help herself.’
‘Ah! That’s why I recognised your face!’ A few months ago, the name Paris Cupid was on everyone’s lips as no one knew the identity of the anonymous matchmaker who set up so many Parisians, including movie star Emmanuel Roux, AKA the Playboy of Paris.
‘Have you ever thought about writing love letters?’ Lilou asks.
‘Well, I sort of write ninety-thousand-word love letters in the shape of romance novels.’
‘Ooh, what’s your name?’
‘Anais De la Croix.’
With that, Lilou jumps from the chaise and comes over to me, pulling me in for a hug that is strong despite her petite frame. ‘I’ve read every single one of your books and I cannot wait for your new book next Christmas. Can you give me a hint of what it’s about?’
‘At this stage it’s under wraps I’m afraid, but I can tell you it’s set in Paris.’
‘You absolute tease! I can’t wait.’
We leave the market and go for afternoon tea. Lilou from Ephemera has given me a much-needed confidence boost about my writing, by reminding me that my books are special to readers, even when I’ve lost my mojo and am suffering a block, or imposter syndrome or whatever the case may be. I’ve been in a rut, thinking only of myself, not my faithful readers, some who’ve been with me since book one. That’s the kind of magic that usually has me plugged into my characters, hyper-focused on their lives as if they’re real, so I can take readers on a journey. While I escape my own life writing, readers escape theirs by reading if I do my job well enough.
