Christmas in Paris: A heart-warming Christmas romance to fall in love with by Tilly Tennant

Author:Tilly Tennant [Tennant , Tilly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803147697
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2022-10-20T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

So much for that being the last they’d see of Armand Heroux.

It had been an unexpectedly mild day and quieter than usual on the stall. Felicity was humming to herself as she stared out onto the market. The scents of doughnuts and sweet crêpes hung in the air while white clouds tumbled across a washed-out sky. The myriad lights that were strung across every stall front were on but barely made an impact in the daylight, though lush reams of tinsel compensated to remind everyone that Christmas was just around the corner.

‘Funny how trade goes up and down like this,’ she said, breaking off mid-tune.

‘Maybe there’s some event going on elsewhere that’s got people’s attention for now,’ Brooke said. ‘It might pick up later.’

‘I can’t say I’m not glad of the breather, but I hope you’re right. It makes me uneasy when we’re not making money.’ She paused and stared at the crowds.

‘Isn’t that…?’ She squinted. ‘Yep. That’s Armand.’

‘What?’ Brooke followed her gaze, her previous lethargy now replaced by keen interest. ‘Where?’

‘Over by the crêpe van. Looks like he’s having a chat with his mate Jean-Luc.’

Brooke took off her woolly hat and fluffed and straightened her hair as best she could. Felicity shot her a wry look. It was too far away to hear any of the conversation, too far even to glean much from facial expressions, but both men looked relaxed as they chatted. Armand’s gaze travelled to Brooke and Felicity’s stall, and Brooke turned quickly to mess with her stock, face burning as she was caught in the act of spying on him. When she dared to look up again, Armand gave his friend a hug and bade him farewell before heading their way.

‘Look lively,’ Felicity quipped. ‘Your destiny’s coming over.’

‘Stop it!’ Brooke nudged her sharply and tried not to laugh.

‘Good morning,’ he said warmly. ‘Are you well today?’

‘Very, thank you,’ Brooke said, her expression unreadable.

‘I hope you enjoyed your dinner,’ he added. ‘You have eaten there before?’

‘Not likely!’ Felicity scoffed. ‘We only went because my cousin insisted – we’d have gone somewhere far less stuck-up.’

‘If I am honest,’ he said in a conspiratorial tone, ‘I must agree with you. It is rather snobby, but I was obliged to dine there because my guest was—’

‘Pascal, we know,’ Felicity said. ‘Which is very cool. Is she nice? She seems lovely, from what we could tell.’

‘She is very nice,’ he said neutrally.

Maybe there wasn’t anything going on between them, Brooke thought. A neutral very nice didn’t suggest lustful fireworks; it didn’t even suggest a deep friendship. It looked as if it was merely a working thing, as Fabien had suggested it might be.

‘Please, about that… I must apologise once again,’ he said.

‘For what?’ Brooke asked.

‘For standing you up—’

‘If this is about the Lebanese restaurant there’s really no need. And you didn’t really stand us up; we didn’t have concrete plans and we did our own thing anyway.’

‘But at the restaurant last night… there was no time to explain.’

‘Please, Armand, it’s fine – we completely understand.

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