| Subject: À la Vie! - Chapter 37 |
Author:
Diane
|
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
Date Posted: Wednesday, November 03, 11:04:37pm
In reply to:
Diane
's message, "À la Vie!" on Tuesday, October 19, 01:16:54am
Michael had put the opening of the Chicago gallery on hold until after the trial. That didn’t mean he had any less work to do, and he was elbow deep in paperwork when his intercom buzzed with a welcome announcement. “M. Samuelle, Mlle Nikita Wirth attend pour vous voir.”
“Très bon,” he answered delightedly.” Accompagnez Mlle Wirth à mon bureau, s'il vous plaît.” When Nikita came through the door, he had the presence of mind to wait until his receptionist had gone before pulling Nikita into an embrace and kissing her deeply. She willing kissed him back. They hadn’t seen each other in nearly a month, and nightly phone calls were not enough to feed their need for one another.
“I got your telegram,” Nikita panted when they came up for air. “I had to come and be with you. Oh, Michael—this is so exciting.”
“I’m going to see my son again!” Michael was positively beaming. “There’s no way the courts can keep him from me now.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Nikita said sincerely. “You must be so happy.”
“And relieved,” Michael added. “It’s been over eight months since I’ve seen Adam. I wonder if he’ll even remember me?”
“Of course he will,” Nikita was quick to reassure him. He took her into his arms again and they just held each other, breathing deeply.
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
“I dunno,” Nikita confessed. “I didn’t make any reservations, and I came right here from the airport.”
“You’ll stay with me,” Michael announced. “The rates are good, and the food is magnifiques.”
“Okay,” Nikita agreed. She couldn’t believe how easily the word came to her mouth. She had changed so much in the last month—all thanks to Michael.
* * *
Julie was highly agitated. She wasn’t supposed to know, but she had pried it out of Vacek’s limousine driver, Eric, that Elena was planning to take Adam and run. Salla Vacek was working out the details. They would both be out of the country before the end of the month. She had to get word to Mr. Samuelle.
* * *
“Your loft is great,” enthused Nikita. Not that it couldn’t us a woman’s touch. The colors were dark and severe, mostly black and dark red, and the walls were stark and ironically free of artwork.
“It’s just a place to sleep,” Michael shrugged. “I’m not here that often. Oh!”
“What?” asked Nikita, curiously.
Michael looked sheepish. “I’m afraid I forgot one rather important detail. I didn’t do it to set you up, I promise,” he said sincerely. “I had no ulterior motives when I made the offer, just wasn’t thinking, as usual.”
“Michael,” Nikita said patiently. “What are you talking about?”
“I only have one bedroom,” he confessed.
Nikita’s cheeks were tinged with pink, but she looked him the eyes when she answered. “Then we’ll have to share.”
“Are you sure about this Nikita?” Michael said gently, stroking the side of her face and running his thumb across her eyebrow. “I mean, it’s a fairly big bed, but I can sleep in the chair down here.” He gestured to a black leather overstuffed chair with matching ottoman.
“I’m sure Michael,” she answered resolutely. “I trust you.”
Michael looked at her for a few moments, considering her words, then came to a decision. “All right,” he said gamely. “Let’s get your bags upstairs.”
[
Next Thread |
Previous Thread |
Next Message |
Previous Message
]
| |
Feedback: 