Midnight in Brussels Read online

  “It just scares me, that’s all. You know I’m seeing Antoine a lot now. And his girls are the sweetest ever. We get along so good.”

  “Are you in love with Antoine?” Paula asked cautiously.

  Amanda considered her answer. “No. I’m not. It’s just different, you know? We’re friends, helping each other out in a way. He’s easy to talk to and be with. I don’t feel stupid around him. Sometimes Richard makes me feel so dumb. He’s older and smarter. Richer. Oh I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s just easier with Antoine. He sort of grows on you.”

  Amanda went to her kitchen area, which was one wall of the living room, and got a can of Pepsi from the refrigerator. “And he’s … well … we’re the same age and on the same level. I think Richard’s too good for me.”

  “He is not! How can you say that?” Paula sounded exasperated. “If anything, you’re too good for him. You’ve got to get that nonsense out of your pretty little head, girl.”

  Amanda laughed. “I think you’re biased, Paula.” She took a swallow of the drink.

  “Well, you’re my baby sister, that’s why. And you know that Mama and Grandma would say the same thing. You’ve always been special, Amanda, you just haven’t known it. Why, look at what you’ve done in the past year. How many people could do what you’ve done? Huh? How many people would have even tried? You set your mind to it and you did it. I’m just so proud of you, baby. So proud!”

  Amanda could hear the emotion in Paula’s voice. “Are you crying, Paula?”

  “Well, you make me cry, baby.” She laughed. “I just want you to be happy, and I just know that Richard is right for you. Please give him a chance. Promise me you will.”

  “I haven’t told him no yet, Paula. I haven’t told him anything. And when I come home to visit, maybe I’ll know more about how I feel. But don’t tell him my plans for the shop over here. I don’t want him to know that just yet.”

  “Okay, I won’t.”

  “Well, I gotta go now, so you give A.G. a big fat kiss for me, and give Drake a giant hug. I’ll call you later.”

  It was Friday night and Amanda was trying on one of her newly sewn creations – a silk dress flowing from a strapless lined-lace band that fit snuggly across the bust line. The sky blue color of the fabric reflected the color of her eyes. Her plans were to cover a pair of shoes with the silk to go with the dress.

  As she looked in the mirror she thought of Antoine. Their outings with the girls and the evenings alone after the girls were in bed and their dinner dates once a week were becoming more and more romantic, they’d end each evening with a kiss that became more intimate than the one before. And she was becoming more and more eager to see Antoine each night when he got home from work. He’d spend an hour with the girls, put them to bed and then come upstairs to see Amanda.

  There was a knock at the door.

  She looked at her watch and saw that it had to be Antoine. After a brief hesitation, thinking of quickly taking off the dress and putting on her jeans and top, she decided against it and opened the door.

  “Wow!” Antoine stared at her with his widened eyes and mouth agape.

  “Come in.” Amanda was pleased by his reaction. She wasn’t sure if it was a reaction to the dress itself or how she looked in it. “So what do you think?” She twirled so he could see the identical front and back. The seams were almost invisible, which she took great pride in, had learned how to do that from her mother. “Think I could sell this?”

  “Sell it? You should wear it every day and night. It’s beautiful! We should go out dancing somewhere.”

  Amanda giggled. “No, no, no. It’s to sell. Do you like the design?”

  “Oh yes. I can visualize this in your shop window. It’ll cause quite a stir, it will.”

  “Well, I’ll just be a moment,” she said as she went into her bedroom to change. “Pour the wine, will you? And there are some snacks on a plate in the fridge. Help yourself.

  As she undressed she thought about how far she’d come from the hills of Arkansas to entertaining a handsome young man in her own comfy flat in Belgium. It felt so natural to be making gorgeous clothing and sipping wine with Antoine late at night. She decided to put on an oversized t-shirt that came down to mid-thigh instead of her jeans and top. Less constraining, more comfortable.

  The music was on and a glass of wine was waiting for Amanda on the table in front of the sofa alongside the plate of sandwiches. Antoine was leaning back on the sofa pillows watching for her entrance from the bedroom. The look on his face was soft and loving.

  “Oh, great! You did good, Antoine. I definitely need a glass. It’s been a long day for me, finishing that dress and starting more lace for another.” She sat in the middle of the sofa and reached for the glass from the table. “Cheers!”

  They clanked their glasses and melted into the fluffy cushions.

  “So what was your day like?” She sipped and reached for a sandwich as she waited for his answer.

  “Uneventful. Typical day. The Friday regulars came in, sat at their favorite tables. Nothing changes. Once in a while someone new and interesting comes in, like the day you first walked through the door.” He grinned and took a sip.

  “So you’re saying that happens a lot?” she teased.

  He laughed. “No, I’m not saying that.” He reached over and touched her knee. “You look as good in a t-shirt as you did in the fancy dress.”

  “Ha! Now I know you’re putting me on.”

  Antoine set his glass on the table and moved closer to Amanda. “You know how much I care for you, don’t you, Mandy? I mean after all this time, you’ve got to know.”

  She felt uneasy and moved her knee from his touch by placing her foot on the floor and sitting erect. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him, leaning in for a kiss. She relaxed a little and let him kiss her. Kisses felt nice, and they were harmless.

  He took one of her hands and placed it on his shoulder as the kiss continued, and then he reached for her other hand and did the same. Amanda felt tingly all over as he pulled her closer to him.

  Returning his kiss was easy and she was enjoying being held close. But as he began to gently lay her back on the sofa and move his body above hers, pressing against her, she stiffened and tried to sit up.

  “Stay in the moment, stay in the moment …” he whispered.

  It became easier than she thought it would be. Antoine made it feel natural as he stroked the outside of her thigh and slipped his hand under the back of her t-shirt and pulling her even closer with his hand pressing into the small of her back.

  The kisses became more intense and breathless as Amanda felt his hot body against hers. She became even more aroused when Antoine lifted the front of her t-shirt and kissed the space between her breasts as he began kneading them gently. His lips brushed her throat, and the indentation at the front of her neck.

  Then he raised his head slightly and looked up at the expression on her face and her closed eyes. This was something he’d wanted to do ever since he first saw her.

  Amanda opened her glazed eyes and gazed into his. “We should probably stop, you know.”

  “Not now.” He tickled her nipple with his tongue. “You like that?”

  “Oh my God, yes!” She giggled and squirmed as he continued to make an all-out effort to pleasure her in every way he could think of. She had no idea she could feel as good as he made her feel. The thrills were zinging every erotic zone of her body. Antoine was a very talented man at lovemaking, she decided.

  After two hours of teasing and gentle lovemaking that culminated in both of them reaching the ultimate high in sexual ecstasy, Amanda abruptly sat up, almost knocking Antoine off the sofa.

  “Oh my gosh! Look at the time. I’ve got stuff to do.” She reached for her glass and went to the fridge for some cold water. “Would you like a drink of water before you leave?”

  She was half embarrassed and half thinking that maybe it was time she take Rac
hel up on her offer and go to Brussels for a few days. Having sex with Antoine was much too confusing. She needed to get away from him right away.

  Richard’s face flashed through her mind. She felt guilty.

  Yes, she’d call Rachel in the morning and make arrangements to go to Brussels for a few days.

  Chapter 29

  It began raining as Rachel headed for her morning coffee. She rounded the corner from the lane leading to the central square and the restaurant on the corner at Number 1 Grand Place. It was her favorite, besides the Metropole Cafe at the hotel where she was staying. It was called the Le Roi d’Espagne, named after the bust of Charles II which decorated the façade on the second floor. One of the things Rachel loved doing was finding out the history of the fascinating old buildings wherever she went. This had only become a favorite pastime of hers in later years; she had never been interested in history before becoming a writer. Doing historical research, visiting places, reading about the people, it was all part of a writer’s creative process.

  She was attracted to The Roy (its nickname) by its ambiance and the history of it. Built in 1697, originally a Bakers Guild, at one point it added a café and a hardware store, then became strictly a café in 1952. According to the waiters, to work there one had to speak French and English in addition to the local languages.

  At least three or four times a week Rachel went there for a late morning cup of coffee and pastry, sometimes lunch. She’d sit a couple hours and make notes about her thoughts and for the novel. Sometimes a person she would see, hear, or talk to would trigger an idea and she’d jot it down.

  That morning after she ordered she asked her waiter, “By the way, what are guild houses? You know, like the Bakers Guild, where we are.”

  “Oh, that is easy. During the Middle Ages and after that, every city had guilds or corporations as we would call them today - for instance the Bakers Guild. The guilds or corporations had influence on the governing body of the city. And because guilds were very wealthy and politically powerful and their four- to six-story houses or headquarters reflected the affluence and influence, they would regularly meet in them to discuss new rules or regulations for their specific trade or commerce. They’d pass that along to the city administration to implement. So the Grand Place was the center of government in those days, with all its guild houses. Now it is a tourist attraction.” He grinned at her.

  “Thank you so much, you’ve earned your tip today for sure.” She grinned back at him.

  “That makes me very happy, thank you. I’ll turn in your order.” He waited on her almost every time she came in, so he knew what to expect in the way of a tip from her. Most Europeans didn’t tip, but Americans did. In fact Rachel over-tipped, and he told her so, but he was very grateful and glad to see her come in. And he enjoyed giving her bits and pieces of history, she was always full of questions.

  Rachel wrote a note to herself to call Belinda as soon as she returned to the hotel; she wanted to know how the treatments were going.

  Her cell phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “How’s my doll?”

  “Oh, Pete! I was worried. It’s been a whole week again.”

  “Darling, you mustn’t worry. If I can’t find a signal, I can’t call. Just believe that nothing will harm me. Nothing will prevent me from spending the rest of my life with you. I miss you, luv.”

  Rachel took a deep breath. “And I miss you, too. More and more every day. So when will you be through?”

  “That’s why I’m calling; we’re going to be here a bit longer, I’m afraid. Maybe till November. But that won’t interfere with our wedding at Christmas. Nothing will get in the way of that, doll. I promise.”

  “Oh dear.” She hesitated. “Well, actually, I’m pretty busy here … the book and all … and I’ve some more side trips to take for research, so I guess I’ll be all right. Yes, I’ll be all right. I’m sorry, Pete; I don’t mean to be nagging. Forgive me?”

  “You aren’t a nag at all. I’ve seen some real nags in my lifetime, married one before, you know. So you can rest easy about that, luv.” He laughed heartily. “Got to go, doll. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

  “Okay, take care of yourself for me.”

  “I will. Bye now.”

  She sighed deeply and slumped in her chair, staring sadly out the window.

  Her phone rang again.

  “Did you forget something? Hello? Oh, Mandy! How are you? Yes, I thought you were Pete, he just called. No, he’s still in Brazil. Yes, of course, anytime you want. That’ll work. Can you take a cab to the Metropole Hotel from the train station? Yes, they all know where it is. Sure. I’ll most likely be at the sidewalk café in front. Yes, at the hotel. Okay, see you then. I’m glad you’re coming, I desperately need the company.”

  Chapter 30

  Rachel adored Amanda, or Mandy, as the young lady wanted to be called. Rachel had not met as sweet a girl since she first met Belinda and Shellie. Both Belinda and Shellie had become her dear friends who she’d fight for and do whatever it took to help them with whatever they needed, if it was within her power. And now she’d met another young woman who fit the same criteria, and she felt motherly towards this one – like Janet felt towards Shellie. Probably because Amanda was so young and she was all alone in a strange land. Rachel felt a kinship to her, had been drawn to her at the onset. Felt it was for a reason.

  She knew one of the reasons. She wanted to invest in Amanda, if Amanda would let her. She’d made up her mind about it the second day Amanda was in Brussels to visit her.

  On the third day of the visit they were sitting at The Roy eating lunch.

  “Got some good news this morning from my publisher in the States. My latest novel just hit the million mark in sales. I’m rich!” Rachel laughed.

  “Congratulations! Which one is it? I’ll have to buy it and read it. I love reading novels.”

  “Love at the Louvre. You don’t have to buy it, I have a copy at the hotel, I’ll give it to you.” She hesitated for a second. “Mandy, I also want to give you some money—”

  “Oh no, you can’t do that. I’m not wanting anything from you.”

  “I know that, dear. I know you aren’t the type to take from people. Believe me, I can pick up on that quicker than most. You are a talented seamstress and designer, and that’s what I want to invest in. You have to let me. It’ll be just that: an investment. We can work it all out with my attorney, if you’d rather. Make it legal.” She was grinning, wide-eyed, at Amanda, excited about the venture. “And besides, now I have the money to do it.” She laughed.

  Amanda looked down at her plate for a moment, thinking about what Rachel had just proposed. She leaned back and looked at her with tear-filled eyes. “I don’t know what to say—” She couldn’t continue. She cupped her hand over her mouth and chin to hide the quivering and stop the beginnings of a sob.

  “Oh, Mandy!” Rachel reached over and held her other hand. “I’m really excited about this. When you got here and handed me that beautiful silk lace jacket that you made, I mean you even made the lace, I knew right then that I wanted to help you. You need to be seen. Your creations need to be out there. It’s your dream, honey, and I can help make that happen for you. Please let me.”

  “It’s so hard for me,” Amanda murmured sheepishly.

  “So let’s just sort it all out and work together on it. Okay?’

  “So you really think I should open the shop in Brussels instead of Bruges?” She wiped her eyes that were refilling with excitement instead of tears.

  Rachel nodded. “More traffic, more local as well as tourist trade. Definitely here in Brussels. We can find a shop with an apartment overhead for you.” She took a bite of her sautéed fish. “Mmmm, this is delicious. So how long would it take you to be ready with enough garments to open a shop?”

  “About three more months.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to my attorney in London and have him email a contract right away. You
and I can work out the details before you go back to Bruges, and then I’ll write you a check for fabric and supplies and living expenses that will tide you over for the next six months plus. I’ll be going back to Cornwall soon. So after the first of the year, we’ll meet here in Brussels and get down to brass tacks to figure it all out, find a shop and apartment, all the fun stuff. How does that sound?”

  Amanda leaned over and gave Rachel a loving hug.

  Chapter 31

  It was already October. Rachel couldn’t believe how fast the weeks were flying by. She had finished the first draft of her fourth novel and was taking a couple of days away from it. She decided to pack up and take the train to Paris for the weekend, after which she would head home to Cornwall.

  First she sent an email to Amanda to tell her what she was going to do. Before Amanda left Brussels to return to Bruges, Rachel purchased a laptop for her and showed her the basics. Amanda learned quickly and although she couldn’t type, she used the one-finger hunt-and-peck method that worked just fine. Now they would stay in touch every day, no matter where Rachel was.

  Rachel also sent an email to Pete and one to Belinda. She didn’t want to call and have long conversations; she wanted to get going. But she did call Janet and left a message that she would arrive in Paris late afternoon.

  After sending the emails and reading those awaiting her from others, she shut down her computer and began packing.

  Her cell phone rang.

  “I don’t have time for this,” she growled aloud. She thought about letting it go to the message center, but on the last ring she decided to answer. “Hello?”

  “Rachel O’Neill?”

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “This is Carl Wilson in Belem. I’m with the Eden Project.”

  “Yes, I remember you.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

  “My dear, I’m sorry to inform you ... ”

  Rachel’s heart stopped.