The Paris Connection. Cerella Sechrist

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      At Marc Benoit’s door, he commented on the skiing hobby Emma had mentioned before they entered the room and then spent nearly twenty minutes listening to Marc enthusiastically describe his winter vacation to the Swiss Alps.

      He greeted Aurora Fontenot with a grin and handshake, noting the framed canvas hanging on her wall and acting shocked when she blushingly confessed she had painted it herself.

      Standing outside Louis Terrell’s office, he congratulated the senior recruiter on his placement record and remembered all three names of the man’s children along with his wife’s charity efforts.

      She hesitated on the threshold at Giselle Bisset’s office. Giselle was her friend, but the woman was an unbelievable flirt. She wasn’t sure how to warn Cole about Giselle’s never-ending quest for dates. She opted instead to share Giselle’s passion for French fashion and her specialty of media relations, and was duly impressed when Cole easily deflected Giselle’s attempts at flirtation by repeatedly steering the conversation back to her niche.

      Though she was loath to admit it, Cole’s people skills were undeniable, and Emma could see why Lillian Reid must have found him valuable, both as a recruiter and now as a leader. Seeing his talents up close, however, only served to remind her of what she had lost—the promotion and the opportunity to be standing in Cole’s place at this very moment. Fortunately, after a morning filled with introductions and a catered lunch for the whole floor, he’d asked to spend the afternoon alone in his office to review some files pertaining to the merger. She suspected he also had to update Lillian Reid on how things were progressing, but she was more than happy to leave him to it. She spent the rest of the day in her own office, catching up on her work. When the day was over, she wanted nothing more than to erase her memories of the past twelve hours, eat some dinner, take a hot bath and curl up on the couch with Avery for the evening.

      She arrived home to her apartment and hung her bag on the coatrack as she announced her presence. “I’m home!”

      Entering the living area, she sighed at the sight of toys scattered across the floor and cushions pulled off the couch. A makeshift fort of pillows and blankets—and was that her favorite shawl?—blocked her entrance to the hallway. She tore down the obstruction and continued toward the bedrooms, calling for her daughter and Melanie, the au pair who had come to live with them two months before.

      Though Emma had chosen to remain in France after her divorce from Brice, she didn’t want Avery to forget the American side of her heritage. The au pair system was the perfect way to balance Avery’s cultural experiences. After all, it was how Emma herself had first come to Paris and fallen in love, by signing up as an au pair straight out of college. She had merely been young and looking to see some of the world before settling into a career, but her time in the city had stolen her heart, as had Brice, and by her twenty-third birthday, she had found herself married and living as an expat in this country.

      Emma wanted her daughter to be bilingual, so she insisted Avery speak only English when at home. Having an American nanny only reinforced this. Plus, Emma got to share her enthusiasm for her adopted city with a new au pair each year. The au pair system set a maximum amount of hours caregivers could work each week, leaving them free to explore the city and make friends in their free time. During the summer, Melanie watched over Avery through the day, and Emma got to spend time with her daughter in the evening and on weekends. Once nursery school started in another couple of weeks, Melanie’s duties would shift to getting Avery ready for school and then watching her in the afternoons until Emma got home from work; the au pair would also watch Avery all day on Wednesdays, since schools had off that day in France. Melanie would still have most evenings and weekends free to spend the time as she wished.

      “Avery? Melanie?” Emma called as she picked a pillow up off the floor.

      “We’re in here!” Melanie called from down the hall.

      Emma entered her daughter’s bedroom to more chaos—scarves looped around the bedposts, their ends trailing down to the mattress, where the sheets had been stripped from the bed and a picnic blanket spread out instead, along with Avery’s tea party set.

      To her credit, Melanie looked up with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about the mess. Avery said she’d never made a pillow fort before.”

      Emma waved this apology away. Avery was five years old and extremely well-mannered—at times, frighteningly so—but children were children, and playtime should be a happy mix of wonder and chaos.

      “We’ll get it cleaned up before dinner,” Emma said. “Now...where is my daughter?”

      A tiny, dark head could be glimpsed from the other side of the bed.

      “Have you given her to Madame Bernadette in the apartment downstairs?” Emma asked Melanie with a wink. “Madame likes her, but Avery talks so much, Bernadette may not want her and might try to give her back.”

      A muffled giggle could be heard across the room, and Melanie grinned at Emma’s acting.

      She sighed dramatically. “Well, I hope Bernadette is nice to her. It is a shame you gave her away because I was going to make cheese omelets for dinner, and they’re her favorite.”

      The tiny figure suddenly popped up from the side of the bed, her hair fluttering in strands across her face and her lips wide in a smile. “Melanie wouldn’t do that, Maman!”

      “Ah.” Emma raised a finger, and Avery quickly corrected herself.

      “I meant, Mom.”

      Emma moved toward her daughter as Avery came around the bed and waited for her greeting. Emma leaned down, brushed her nose against her daughter’s and then kissed the top of her head—their standard homecoming exchange.

      “Did you two have a good day?”

      Avery nodded, but Emma looked to Melanie for confirmation.

      “We did,” Melanie agreed. “Except that Avery insisted we have a tea party before cleaning up our fort in the living area.”

      “Well, she’ll have to clean it up before dinner.”

      Avery looked up at her with pleading eyes, but Emma shook her head. “You should be full of tea and cakes, so surely you can’t be hungry,” she teased.

      Avery smiled and swayed back and forth. “They weren’t real tea and cakes,” she reminded. “It was make-believe.”

      Emma tapped her nose affectionately. “Oh, okay. In that case, I’ll begin the omelets right away while you put away your toys.” She turned to Melanie. “You’re joining us for dinner, right?”

      Melanie shook her head. “I’m meeting some other au pairs, if that’s all right. We’re taking the train to the Loire Valley next weekend, and we’re working on our itinerary.”

      “Of course. You’ll love the Loire Valley. It’s beautiful.”

      The two chatted about Melanie’s upcoming trip as Emma began to make dinner. Then Melanie helped Avery finish cleaning up the living room before she went to her room to get ready for her evening out. She let Avery watch her apply her makeup as Emma finished up dinner.

      Emma was just plating the omelets when the phone rang. Setting aside the skillet, she went to answer.

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