It said only “See you soon. I love you, Mike.” It was enough, more than enough. He had put balm on her severely wounded heart, and if it worked, they had much to look forward to. It was something to hold on to. She folded the note and put it in her pocket. His plane had taken off by then, and she had her own life to get back to, until she saw him again. She hoped it would be soon, just as his note said. It sounded like a promise.

—

She was in her office when Pierre de Vaumont called her that afternoon. She remembered seeing him on the plane, and knew he had gone to the opening party in New York, but she couldn’t imagine why he was calling her. They weren’t friends and never had been. She avoided people like him. She no longer moved in the circles he did, and had no desire to. She had given up her entire social life since Matthieu’s death, and didn’t miss it. They were all Matthieu’s friends anyway. He dictated their social life, and most of the time she followed, to please him and keep him happy. Although she wondered if she would have been quite so willing to follow his lead after the girl in Moscow. That last escapade of his would have had an inevitable impact on their marriage, if the worst hadn’t happened. It had subtly changed her feelings for him even after his death.

Pierre de Vaumont made meaningless chitchat for a few minutes and she was eager to get back to work. She didn’t know why she had taken the call, just to be polite. He finally spat out what he wanted.

“There’s going to be a fabulous party at Versailles next month, for a good cause, of course. I’m putting together a table, and I was hoping you would join me and host it with me.” She didn’t know if he was asking her to pay for it, or pay half of it, or just be there as his date, or as a showpiece to enhance his social status, but whatever his motive, she had no desire whatsoever to go anywhere with him or be seen in public hosting a table with him, whatever the cause. She thought it an unsuitably bold request.

“I’m not going out yet,” she said demurely. “I’m just not ready, but thank you so much. Very kind of you to ask me.” She hustled him off the phone then. He seemed slimy to her, and he clearly had an ulterior motive. He was incredibly transparent, and she knew that Matthieu had never liked him either. He had a nose for phonies and users, and was practically allergic to them. Pierre de Vaumont was a prime specimen of the breed.

—

Mike called a little while later to say he had landed safely in New York and was on his way home to his apartment, which would be morbidly depressing without her.