She turned to Jack. She gripped his hand tighter, pulled him closer, never wanting to let go. “Come with me to Paris.”

Epilogue

Lovely Rain

Life wasn’t entirely perfect in Paris.

Some days, for instance, it rained.

Oh, wait. That wasn’t a bad thing. Even the rain in Paris was lovely. Especially the rain in Paris was lovely.

While Michelle had missed her brother, she’d met him in London a few months ago, when Jill had performed in A Streetcar Named Desire. Jack had joined her. His schedule was much lighter these days.

But it was starting to fill up. After a few months enjoying being a man of leisure, drinking espressos, and shopping for lingerie for her while she worked, he’d started up a new business.

He’d begun advising several French companies, some specializing in lingerie, some in sex toys, on entering the American market and the particular challenges and opportunities across the pond. It was a perfect job for his strategic brain.

They lived in the 6th arrondissement, not far from her work, in a flat above a leather handbag store and a macaron shop. Joy Delivered was thriving back home, thanks in part to its continued business online and in stores with its biggest customer, Eden. The premiere vibrator boutique in New York had remained open and so had the BDSM clubs, thanks to Denkler winning the campaign on the power of a positive message. In some ways, the campaign wasn’t even about the candidate.

It was about pleasure being more powerful than politics.

It was about what happened behind closed doors being personal, and private, and not public at all.

It was about doing good for a neighborhood.

The law was a powerful thing too, though, and Michelle had a smart lawyer friend who’d tipped off the federal government about the phone hacking. Nick Bradshaw had been investigated for computer crimes. What he’d done to Michelle was only a misdemeanor, but it wasn’t his first time, and it turned out he had quite a sordid history of underhanded tactics in his arsenal as the Spin Doctor.

So many that he’d been sent to prison.

Michelle hoped he’d have a hell of a hard time spinning his jail time.

One Tuesday morning in April, after a phone session with Shayla, who’d left her husband and was managing better than she’d thought she would on her own, Michelle caught a train to Giverny. Jack had been working in the countryside today, advising a wealthy client in Rouen, so they were meeting in the middle, and had nothing planned but lunch at a cafe in the quiet village where Monet had painted.

When she arrived, she didn’t see him at the entrance. She checked her phone and saw he’d sent a message that he was already inside and to come find him on the bridge.

She meandered through the gardens where ruby red, sky blue, and sun yellow petals were in bloom. Spring had coasted into Giverny, bringing along a blanket of new colors. The lily pond waters were blue and glassy, reflecting the last bit of midday sun before the gray clouds at the edge of the sky blocked it. Soon she spotted Jack on the bridge, one arm resting on the railing, the other in his pocket.