One Winter Weekend

Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“ Y ou’d better believe it,” she countered. “I worked my ass off interning with them from my second year, and by the time I’d graduated, they had a place for me in their Creative Department. Since then I’ve given up holidays, some weekends, and whatever I had to in order to get the job done. Thankfully, the company is a place that recognises you for your effort, and I was promoted a year after I started as a full-time employee. Since then I’ve continued to pull my weight so my bosses have given me more responsibility.”

“Sounds wonderful, though very busy I’d imagine. What time do you have for your personal life?”

“Not much,” Emily replied with a laugh. “I work and on the occasion when I do have time, I spend it with Sarah and her family. You remember Sarah don’t you?”

“Sarah Marsh?”

“She’s Sarah Cartwright now,” Emily informed him. “She’s been married seven years and has four boys now, all under the age of five. They live in London too.”

“She must be busy,” Patrick said in surprise.

“I do my best to help. When she and Jeff, her husband, need some time alone, I’m godmother and babysitter.”

“And what does your boyfriend have to say about that?” Patrick questioned, taking Emily slightly by surprise, as they crossed into the park.

The snow, which had since ceased, began to fall again lightly, speckling Patrick’s dark hair in white flecks.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she admitted, sipping her coffee and plunging her hand into the bag of treats he’d procured. “What’s this?”

“ Noisette Chocolat, ” Patrick said in the most beautiful French she’d ever heard. “Chocolate and hazelnut macaron,” he added, realising she was still lost.

“Thanks,” she said, taking a bite.

“Someone hasn’t been practicing their French,” he teased, taking a long gulp of his coffee.

“Haven’t had the chance to be honest,” she admitted, between chews of the delicious morsel. It was so good it made her hum in satisfaction.

“I see you’re enjoying that,” Patrick mused.

“It’s delicious.”

“So back to this no boyfriend. Do you have a husband then?” he continued his questioning, as they began to stroll beneath the trees. A few seconds later they’d found a bench and deposited themselves upon it, while Emily enjoyed her second macaron.

“No husband,” she once again confirmed. “What about you?”

“None of the above either,” he admitted, shaking his head.

“But why?” He was handsome, successful, and if he had the same disposition he had when they were young, then his personality was stellar. And best of all he lived in Paris, the city of love! What woman wouldn’t want him?

“Thanks, my ego need a little rubbing,” he replied. He took another long drink of his coffee, then shrugged. “I suppose the women I’ve met have all been missing something,” he divulged.

“Like what?” Emily asked, intrigued.

“Like I said just … something,” he replied, his eyes meeting hers and making her heart leap. What did he mean by that? Could he be referring to her?

No, she admonished. It wasn’t possible. Patrick couldn’t still have feelings for her.

Could he?

Their hands met in the bag, each gripping a side of the last macaron. Patrick tugged on one end teasingly, while she made a face, his words still tumbling in her mind.

“Take it,” he said, releasing the morsel.

“Thank you,” she replied, promptly sinking her teeth into the delicate chocolate flavoured confection. She could feel Patrick’s eyes on her, and the flush that was creeping up her chest under his scrutiny.

She was being silly, she told herself again. It couldn’t be possible.

But as Emily’s gaze met his full on, she found herself wondering something she hadn’t in years.

What might have been…