The second-best thing to offer would be a week-long stay in Paris for her and Brooke. Though the latter was her assistant now, she’d been Amandine’s best friend since forever. Gavin had hired her mainly because Amandine trusted her.
An all-expense-paid trip should make up for whatever slight Gavin had caused earlier that day. Women would forgive almost anything for some luxurious girl time and good shopping. And he was certain Amandine would too…especially when she saw her anniversary present.
Chapter Two
AMANDINE OPENED HER EYES and frowned when she realized she was alone in bed. She reached out and touched the indented pillow next to hers. Okay, so Gavin had come home, but not for long. She’d stayed up until around eleven before finally giving up and turning in. The bedside clock said it was eight thirty.
Next to it, she saw a small memo. It read:
Sorry I got home so late. Why don’t we talk later today? I’m taking the entire afternoon and evening off.
G
She put the edge of the paper to her lower lip and smiled slowly. Gavin seldom took time off, not even for his own birthdays. His job kept him too busy.
The note explained why he’d been working so much over the last two weeks. Well, he didn’t have to know about the pregnancy immediately. She’d gotten a reservation at La Mer, one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, and would announce the good news at dinner.
Full of happy expectations, she hopped out of bed…then sat right back down when the room spun and her vision dimmed for a moment.
What the…? She’d never felt dizzy like this before. Was it because of the pregnancy? Well, Dr. Silverman could tell her more about what it meant at their next appointment. Amandine didn’t want to ruin the day by calling or going back to the doctor’s office.
She stood up carefully, and everything remained normal. After shrugging into an ivory silk robe and matching fuzzy slippers, she shuffled down to the kitchen. Every appliance was modern, stainless and had more features than anybody could possibly find a use for. Dozens of polished copper pots and pans hung from hooks. She’d never used copper to cook with, but apparently it was the best there was. Not that she’d know—cooking was Luna’s responsibility.
Luna stood over the gleaming marble counter, her tall, sturdy body wrapped in a practical sky-blue cotton shirt and dark capri jeans. Unlike some other households, Amandine and Gavin didn’t ask their staff to wear uniforms, which Gavin thought was a waste of money and Amandine found pretentious. Besides, Luna was like family.
Luna looked up, her practiced hands beating some eggs in a metal bowl. “Good morning,” she said with a cheery grin. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”
“Thank you.”
She dumped the mixture onto a hot frying pan and handed Amandine a cup of organic jasmine tea.
Amandine sat on a padded stool and watched Luna work. The marble island had a big sink and a cutting board on it, but nothing else. Very different from her old kitchen, where bread, cookies and fruit had covered every square inch of the worn Formica counters. The mansion had a proper place for everything.
A young man Amandine had never seen before came in with a vase of fresh-cut daisies. He smiled shyly, placed the flowers on the island and ducked out.
“Who’s that?” Amandine asked as Luna set scrambled eggs and toasted whole-wheat bread in front of her.
“George. He’s new.” A Lazy Susan with almond butter and four jars of jam appeared next to Amandine’s plate.
“What happened to Julio?”
“Fired.” Luna’s mouth firmed. “Late too much.”
Poor Julio. Amandine didn’t have the heart to fire anybody, but it was Luna who had to deal with employees who didn’t pull their weight. So she always let the housekeeper take care of staff issues.
“Would you like some juice? Freshly squeezed.”
Her mouth full, Amandine nodded. It still amazed her how much money her husband spent to ensure she wouldn’t have to lift a finger. Her meals were prepared for her, and then everything was cleaned after she finished eating. The house was spotless and dust-free, the garden impeccable. If he could, he would have hired someone to breathe for her.
A part of her wished he’d stop. Granted she wasn’t the kind of woman he was used to, and he hadn’t anticipated marrying someone so…ordinary. He probably felt like he had to do something to ensure she wouldn’t embarrass the two of them among their friends and family, but it’d been three years. Surely he could relax a little?
She should talk to him about reducing the staff and cutting back on her clothing budget. She also wanted to decrease the number of fundraisers she did for his various foundations and charities and spend more time on her art. She hadn’t painted much since their marriage, and was dying to use the studio he’d had built for her.
Gavin should be all right with all of that. Whenever she asked him for something, his general response was, “Sure. Whatever you want.”
Yet something about the answer had always bothered her, like he didn’t care enough to raise an objection. Which didn’t make any sense—she should be happy Gavin was so accommodating…shouldn’t she? Did she want a dictatorial husband who objected to her every wish?
Come on, Amandine. Don’t be contradictory. It’s like you’re itching for a fight.