Chapter 133 Stupid Kyle
Mia’s POV
The green dress was a good choice, I had to admit as I examined my reflection. The rich emerald tone brought out the green in my eyes, and the cut was flattering to my changing shape. I added simple gold earrings and a touch of makeup, just enough to look polished without feeling overdone.
By the time Thomas arrived, precisely at 7:15, I’d managed to lock away my more tumultuous emotions behind a facade of calm. Scarlett had outdone herself, wearing a black cocktail dress that somehow managed to be both elegant and eye–catching.
“Ladies,” Thomas greeted us, looking impeccable as always in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit. “You both look lovely.”
“You clean up pretty well yourself, Tommy,” Scarlett quipped, accepting his obligatory kiss on the cheek. “Did you actually leave the office before 7 PM today? I’m shocked.”
“Special occasion,” he replied easily, his eyes meeting mine. “It’s not every day a friend receives an offer from one of the most prestigious architecture firms in Europe.”
“News travels fast,” I said, surprised that Scarlett had already informed him.
“Scarlett texted me the moment you told her,” he explained. “Congratulations, Mia. It’s well–deserved.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, genuinely touched by his sincerity. “Though I haven’t accepted yet. There’s a lot to consider.”
“Of course,” he nodded. “But it’s a tremendous honor to be asked.
The walk to the restaurant was short but pleasant, the evening air crisp with early autumn. Thomas positioned himself on the outside of the sidewalk, a gentlemanly gesture that seemed second nature to him. Scarlett chattered about her auction house adventure, embellishing the story with each retelling.
Le Cinq lived up to its reputation for understated elegance. The maitre d‘ guided us to a corner table, slightly removed from the other diners–a courtesy arranged by Morton, I suspected, to minimize the chance of pregnancy–related discomfort.
“This is beautiful,” I said, taking in the sophisticated decor and impressive floral arrangements.
“Wait until you taste the food,” Scarlett promised, accepting the menu with a nod of thanks. “The chef here is some kind of savant. Morton says his foie gras should be classified as a controlled substance.”
The waiter approached with practiced deference. “May I suggest a wine to begin your evening? Our sommelier has selected several options that pair beautifully with tonight’s menu.”
“I’ll defer to your expertise,” Thomas said smoothly. “Though my friend is expecting, so perhaps a non–alcoholic option for her as well?”
“Of course, sir. We have several house–made infusions that many of our expectant guests enjoy. Perhaps the elderflower and bergamot?”
“That sounds perfect,” I said.
As the waiter departed, Thomas turned to me. “Tell us about the meeting with Leblanc. What exactly did he offer?”
I tried to describe briefly what happened that morning at the Leblanc. I didn’t want to seem like a child who had just gotten an A
“It sounds ideal,” Thomas observed once I’d finished explaining. “The ability to work remotely initially gives you time to settle with the twins before making any decisions about relocation.”
“That’s what I thought,” I agreed, taking a sip of the elderflower infusion, which was unexpectedly delicious. “Still, moving to Paris with infant twins would be…challenging.”
“But not impossible,” Scarlett pointed out. “People do it all the time. And it’s not like you’d be doing it alone. Mom would help,
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Chapter 133 Stupid Kyle
+25 BONUS
I’d visit constantly, and-” She broke off suddenly, her expression shifting. “Actually, speaking of not being alone, there’s something we should probably discuss.”
The change in her tone set off warning bells. “What is it?”
Thomas and Scarlett exchanged a look that did nothing to ease my growing concern.
“It’s about Kyle,” Thomas said carefully.
My stomach dropped. “What about him?”
“Morton ran into him today,” Scarlett explained. “At some business lunch after the Legrand acquisition announcement.” “And?” I prompted when she hesitated.
“And Kyle mentioned he’s considering buying a property in Paris. Something about expanding Branson Industries‘ European operations.”
What?
Kyle, potentially moving to Paris, too??
I glanced at Scarlett. To be honest, I felt like Morton was now a double agent. Kyle knew everything I did. And I knew everything he did. That’s what happens when your best friend marries your ex–husband’s best friend.
“Did he say when?” I asked, striving to keep my voice neutral.
“Not specifically,” Scarlett replied. “But the impression Morton got was that it would be soon. Within the next few months.”
Strange, I feel like Scarlett’s hostility towards Kyle is waning.
“I see.” I focused on my water glass.
I have a feeling I don’t want to discuss Kyle further.
Because Kyle is a moron with no sense of boundaries.
Our first courses arrived, providing a welcome pause in the conversation.
“Let’s talk about something more pleasant,” Scarlett declared after the waiter had departed. “Like whether you’ve thought about what parts of Paris you might want to live in, hypothetically speaking.”
“I haven’t gotten that far. The Leblanc office is in the 8th, but I don’t know if I’d want to live there. It seems very…commercial.”
“The 7th is more residential,” Thomas offered. “Good schools. Close to the Eiffel Tower.”
“Or the Marais,” Scarlett suggested. “More bohemian. Lots of artists and designers.”
The conversation shifted to the merits of various Parisian neighborhoods, a safer topic that carried us through the main course. By the time dessert arrived, I’d almost managed to push thoughts of Kyle to the back of my mind.
Almost.
Thomas insisted on walking us back to the hotel after dinner, though Scarlett protested that we were perfectly capable of navigating the two blocks on our own.
“Humor me,” he said simply, offering me his arm.
