The Frenchman's Slow Seduction (10 page)

“Sounds great. I could
do with a drink.”

When I get to the pub,
I see the cadets at a table in the far corner. Before joining them,
I stop off at the bar for a double rum and coke.

“Welcome to the team,”
Sondra says, lifting her glass as I approach. The others do the
same.

“Do you know someone on
the force, Rachel?” Sheena asks.

“Yeah. Bryan Lin. He’s
my best friend’s brother.”

“Bryan?” Sondra says.
“He’s one of the best guys on the force.” They all seem to agree.
“Maybe you can tell us why he doesn’t have a woman hanging off
him?”

I shrug. “He’s a bit of
a romantic. I guess he’s holding out for the right woman.”

“Well, power to him,”
Sondra says, raising her glass. “There’s not too many left like
him. Most of them just want a doink.” Laughing, they raise their
glasses and drink to Bryan.

All of us stay at the
pub until one, toasting everyone and everything. I have to call a
cab to take me home.

The following morning,
at seven o’clock, Bryan shows up at my apartment with a bottle of
Tylenol. I lead him to the kitchen to get us each some orange
juice.

“So you survived night
two, the showdown,” Bryan says, sitting down at the table.

“Barely,” I say,
joining him. “I’m bruised in both body and ego. I almost flunked
last night. I couldn’t bring myself to hit Sergeant McMahon. I only
managed to punch him on the fourth try after he dropped me to the
floor for failing to do it the third time.”

“I knew you could do
it.”

I relax in my chair. “I
went out drinking with the cadets after class, at The Lookout as it
happens. We were there until one.”

“They always stay until
one. It leaves just enough time to get enough sleep for the next
day.”

“They knew you.”

“Yeah, I’m involved in
a couple of their classes.”

“They like you, even
toasted you. You and your morals.”

His eyes widen. “You’re
pulling my leg.”

I shake my head. “I’m
being completely serious. They think you’re one of the dying breed
of decent men.”

He laughs. “A lot of
them will be there Saturday.”

“Then the night will be
even more fun.”

At the door, Bryan
kisses me, hovering a little longer than usual.

Chapter 12

Shortly after I arrive
at the clinic Friday morning, Michelle phones. Having decided that
we both need an overhaul, she has booked us hair appointments with
Sammy Chu, one of her favorite people, and has planned an evening
of shopping. “A storm’s a brewing, and we might as well be ready
for it,” she says.

The instant I meet
Sammy, I fall in love with him. He’s honest and he’s funny.
Michelle decides that I should get my hair cut first; she has a
couple of errands to run.

“How much do you wear
your hair up?” Sammy asks.

“All the time for the
last six years.”

“
Why?”
he asks,
dramatically. “A beautiful girl like you, you could do some real
sexy stuff with all this blonde hair. First, we’ll part it on the
side. It’ll give you a softer, sexier look. That center part makes
you look like a goody-goody. Next, we’ll put some soft, textured
layers near the ends so that it falls nice. You’ll still be able to
put it up, but you won’t want to.”

After forty-five
minutes, just as Sammy has completed the transformation, Michelle
walks into the salon.

“Holy shit, Sammy,” she
says. “You’re the Michelangelo of hair.” She runs her fingers
through my hair. “You look awesome, Rach.”

Seeing Sammy’s shy
smile, I realize just how much Michelle’s opinion matters to
him.

A half hour later,
Michelle’s transformation is complete. She looks like a movie star.
Even Sammy admits he’s outdone himself.

Inspired, we apply our
imagination to clothes shopping and have a blast. When we finally
get to Michelle’s place, we imbibe a bottle of her favorite wine
and bask in our post-shopping, post-hairdresser success. Too tired
and too woozy to go to my place, I spend the night at
Michelle’s.

In the morning, our
sense of euphoria is still with us, despite us each having a
Saturday morning shift.

When I get to the
clinic, I’m surprised to see Shane’s truck. He’s never been the
first to arrive. Walking past the back office, I see him half
asleep on an old chair. Blinking heavily and rubbing his face, he
tries hard to come to life. Several minutes later, he gravitates
towards the coffee I’ve brewed in the lunchroom, and we pass each
other in the hallway.

“Foxy haircut, Rach.
Didn’t know you had it in you.”

I laugh, unsure whether
I’ve been given a compliment.

Soon, the others
arrive, and we get on with the day.

It’s another crazy
Saturday, but we manage to finish around noon. Mike is busy with
surgery when I leave, so I don’t say goodbye to him. When I leave
the clinic, it’s as a bird escaping a cage.

After doing groceries,
I go straight home, having decided on a lazy afternoon since I’ll
be going out with Bryan later on.

At seven thirty, having
eaten, showered, and changed, I decide to kill some time at Myra’s
place. Bryan is due to pick me up in half an hour.

“Someone’s in love,”
Myra says, when she opens her door.

“You’ve got it wrong,
Myra. Things are on hold with Mike and me.”

She gives me a
surprised look. “Then who is it? Who’s coming over?”

“Bryan and I are
meeting some friends at a pub.”

“Oh.”

Restless, I ask Myra if
I can look through her photo albums. I love looking at the decor
and outfits from her past. When I’m on my third photo album, a
knock sounds on her door. Myra goes to answer it.

“Hi, Myra,” I hear
Bryan say. “I’m early to pick up Rachel. Would you know where she
is?”

“She’s here.”

Moments later, Bryan
walks into Myra’s living room -- and looks at me as if for the
first time.

It’s a quiet drive to
the pub. When we get there, about a dozen of Bryan’s workmates are
sitting with the women from my class. They call over, “Hey, Bryan,
what took you so long?” and then wink, nudge, and poke one another.
Bryan smiles and waves.

Putting an arm around
me, he says, “I’ll be the designated driver tonight. What’ll you
have?”

“Vodka and orange
juice.”

As we join the group,
Sondra calls out, “Hey, Bryan, did you hear about the wallop Rachel
gave Mac the other night?”

He laughs. “No. Tell me
about it.”

“She knocked the wind
out of his sails, I can tell you. We figure you guys could use her
on the force for protection.” The cadets kill themselves
laughing.

Bryan introduces me to
his colleagues and their friends.

“Any thoughts of
joining the force?” Dave asks.

I shrug. “I’ll tell you
when the bruises heal.”

An hour into the
evening, I get up to go to the washroom. When I come out of the
stall, Sondra is at one of the sinks.

“You weren’t real
straight with us the other night,” she says.

“What about?”

“It looks like Bryan
has found the right woman.”

“Pardon?”

She gives me a pointed
look as if to say
Fess up.

My eyes widen. “Who?
Me? You’ve got it wrong. We’re just good friends. We’ve been
friends for a long time.”

She rolls her eyes.
“You may have been friends for ages, Rachel, but the way he’s
looking at you tonight, it’s gone way past that. He’s crazy about
you.”

I laugh. “Give it
up.”

“Besides, you’ve made a
classic mistake. A man and a woman can never just be great friends;
men’s brains aren’t equipped for it.” She gives me a smug look.
“Now, let’s get back to the troops."

When one o’clock nears
and everyone starts talking about leaving, Sondra calls out, “One
last toast.”

As we clap, shout, and
cheer her on, she stands up. Looking over to Bryan and me, she
says, “To love, which can be right under our noses, without us even
realizing it.”

Everyone raises their
glass and calls out,
“Hear! Hear!”

I could melt.

Bryan drives me home
and walks me to my apartment. “I won’t come in,” he says. “I'm
pretty exhausted. I had a great time tonight, Rachel.”

“You work with a great
bunch of people.”

“That too.”

I give him a quick kiss
on the cheek and turn around to unlock my door.

“You okay?” he
asks.

“Just a bit tired.”

“Rach?”

It’s a struggle to push
the key into the lock. “Yeah?” I say, finally managing to get the
door unlocked.

“Call me tomorrow?”

I turn to him and
smile. “Sure.”

Inside, I lean on the
door.
Bryan and me?
It would ruin everything. Please, God,
let me sleep the sleep of angels tonight so that I can think more
clearly in the morning.

Chapter 13

After my weekly
two-hour housecleaning stint, which I do every Sunday morning, I
call Michelle before going over for a visit.

Leaving the apartment,
I notice a broken and bent paper clip outside the door; a smaller
piece is still wedged inside the door lock. What in heaven’s name
going on? Thank goodness for the pick-proof locks our apartment
manager had installed last year after a couple of break-ins.

When I get to
Michelle’s place, she takes me into the living room, and we make
ourselves comfortable on her sofa.

“Bryan still doing the
right thing by you?” she asks, and my heart instantly reacts.

“
What?”
I ask,
wondering what the heck is the matter with me.

“Is he still helping
you out with all that self-defence stuff?”

“Oh, yeah. He helps a
lot. He brings me Tylenol.”

She laughs. “Show me
what you’ve learned.”

I teach her some moves,
and she throws herself into it.

“Wow, this stuff’s
great,” she says. “I might take a course myself.”

“You should. It’s
really empowering.”

She goes to the kitchen
to get us each a glass of juice. Relaxing into the sofa, she says,
“So why are you really here?”

I shrug. “No reason.
Just felt like coming over.”

She arches an eyebrow.
“I’m touched, but I think there’s more to it than that.”

I flop back onto the
sofa. “We’ll always be friends, won’t we, Mich?”

She gives me a worried
look. “Of course. Come on, Rach, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’ve just
been thinking about things. Liz and Verna told me that I should
think hard about what I’m doing in life, that I should direct my
fate instead of just reacting to circumstances. I guess I’ve been
mulling over what they said.” It seems impossible to tell her
what’s really worrying me.

“Me too,” she says. “I
can’t work for the bastard forever.”

The phone rings in the
kitchen and she goes to answer it. When she gets back, she says,
“That was Bryan. He wants to come over too. What a coincidence.”
Michelle doesn’t believe in coincidences. “Is everything alright
with you guys? Nothing’s happened that I should know about, has
it?” She’s fishing.

I give her a surprised
look. “Of course not. Everything’s fine.”

Keeping her eyes on me,
she says, “Bryan’s coming over for dinner at seven. Why don’t you
come over too?”

“I have to work on the
conference talk,” I say, lying.

Her full attention is
now on me. “You have to eat, Rachel. If you don’t come, I’ll think
something’s wrong.”

I laugh. “I can never
win with you. I’ll come.”

Michelle suggests an
Italian restaurant for lunch, and I happily agree. After a hearty
pasta meal, I actually do go home to work on the conference
material.

That night, when I
return to Michelle’s apartment, Bryan is already there, barbecuing
on the balcony. For some reason, an energy exists between us
now.

Michelle takes me into
the kitchen. “What’s up?” she asks. “You look a little
unsteady.”

I scrunch up my face.
“I don’t think things are going to work out with Mike and me. I’ve
got to figure out a way to end things.”

“Whatever you do, do it
quick. Stop torturing yourself. You went into that relationship
with the best of intentions, but it turned out to be a failed
experiment, that’s all. It’s not your fault or his fault, it just
didn’t work out. Get over it. He will.” Reaching into the cupboard,
she pulls out some plates. “Let’s eat dinner on the balcony.”

An hour later, as we’re
chatting, eating, and drinking, Michelle leans back and takes a
deep breath. “Fall’s in the air,” she says.

Later, as the three of
us are sitting indoors in front of the electric fireplace, floating
in the warmth of the living room, the phone rings. Michelle gets up
to answer it.

When Bryan and I are
alone, he says, “I was talking to Sergeant McMahon. He tells me he
thinks you’re going to be alright:
‘Your Rachel,’
he said,
‘she’ll be able to hold her own.’”

I laugh. “He’s a great
guy.”

“Do you want me to
drive you home tonight?” Bryan asks, having noticed that I’ve drunk
too much.

Why do I feel like I’m
about to have a seizure? Unable to come up with a polite way to
decline his offer, I say, “Sure. That would be great.”

Michelle walks back
into the living room. “That was the bastard,” she says. “He wanted
to straighten out some vacation time for himself.”

When Bryan gets up to
leave, Michelle perks up. “Why don’t you spend the night, Rachel?
You can leave from here in the morning.”

I turn to her. “Sure.
Bryan was going to give me a lift home but staying here would be
good.”

I can’t believe how
relieved I feel at not having to spend time alone with Bryan. It
would be fine if my body would behave, but there’s no hope of that
right now. After Bryan leaves, I feel strangely disappointed.