Chapter 10

Tom Quinlan stopped by to see Amanda at the gallery on Monday, to say hello and catch up.

He said he was deep into the book, and happy with it.

He glowed when he talked about it, and she told him about the break-in at her apartment, and he was horrified, and worried for her.

"Maybe you should hire some kind of night security to stand outside your building at night so no one can climb up the fa?ade again, especially when you're asleep.

That's dangerous, Amanda.

You need to take it seriously.

The guy could kill you or rape you if he gets in again."

"I know.

I'm setting the alarm now at night.

Hiring a security guard seems so extreme.

I never realized that someone could climb up my building that easily, and I'm only on the second floor.

The police say they see that all the time with old buildings, mostly for burglaries."

"You know, you can call me any time if you have a problem, or even if you're just scared.

I work late when I'm writing, which is pretty much every day now.

I'm happy to come over whenever you want or need me."

She didn't tell Tom that Olivier was performing that function.

She didn't want to ruffle his feathers.

She just thanked him and let it go.

And Pascal would have come too.

Delphine, the artist he'd been so desperate to date, was seeing him regularly now.

Knowing his reputation as a womanizer, she was keeping him on a short leash, and he didn't seem to mind.

He had invited her to the opening that night.

Amanda didn't mention the party to Tom.

She suspected he'd get annoyed when Olivier was there, and she didn't want to deal with it.

He was better as a lunch friend, one on one, in small doses, so he wouldn't get the wrong idea.

Amanda had a monstrously busy day, putting the final touches on the show.

She double-checked everything with the caterer herself, spoke to the artist and told him how proud she was of his work.

She rechecked the guest list, instructed their assistants, and rushed home to change.

She wore a red dress, which matched the paintings and looked great on her.

And she was back promptly twenty minutes before the first guests arrived.

The gallery was already full of people and noise and all the signs of a successful party, with waiters carrying trays of hors d'oeuvres and champagne, by the time Olivier arrived.

He'd gotten stuck at the office and the party was well underway.

"This looks like a major hit,"

he said, as he kissed Amanda and admired her dress.

"You look fantastic!"

"Thank you!"

She pointed to all the red dots on the walls next to the paintings.

"We've sold all the paintings except two of the smaller ones.

All the others are sold, even the biggest one."

Olivier took a glass of champagne from a waiter and followed her around while she introduced him to people she wanted him to meet.

She was proud to be standing with him, a feeling she hadn't had for a long time, and Olivier hadn't either.

"Am I allowed to say you two make a very handsome couple,"

Pascal whispered to her, when he saw her in her office, getting out a bio of the artist for one of their clients.

She didn't remind him that Olivier already was a couple, and didn't like to think about it herself, but it was the truth.

"I like your friend Delphine.

She's on to you."

Amanda laughed at him.

"I think you've met your match."

Pascal grinned happily and nodded.

"Some show, huh?"

he commented, as they went back to rejoin the guests.

"It's the best one we've had in three years.

And I think we're going to sell the last two paintings before the night is over.

But the artist is willing to do commissions.

He's very pleased."

"Me too,"

Amanda echoed.

The guests stayed until nearly ten o'clock, and after that Pascal and Delphine and Olivier and Amanda took the artist and his wife to the Fontaine de Mars and had a delicious dinner to celebrate.

Olivier spent the night with Amanda, knowing they were both going to be busy for the next two days and wouldn't be together in the evenings until he came back to sleep.

He had an author dinner one night and then a publishing event for writers and agents, and she was going to two big social events herself, for charity, one of which was an art auction she had contributed a small painting to.

—

The night after the gallery opening, Amanda went to a charity event, given by Hermès.

It was an equestrian jumping competition they did every year, which was attended by all the city's socialites, celebrities, and trendsetters, with a very glamorous guest list.

Amanda was handed a brochure when she arrived, and she was startled to see Mme.

Olivier Saint Albin listed as one of the judges.

Amanda was slightly shocked at first, and curious to see what Olivier's wife looked like.

There was a photograph of her in the brochure on one of her horses, winning first prize.

Amanda wondered if Olivier was there, but he had told her he was having dinner with an author he was encouraging to finish a book he was convinced would be a bestseller, and she believed him.

She ran into a friend then, and got caught up in meeting people and introductions, and was introduced to a member of the Dumas family, which owned Hermès.

She got swept up in their group then, and suddenly someone was introducing her to the judges of the event, since the equestrian part of the evening hadn't started yet.

Amanda found herself shaking hands with a tall, serious, distinguished-looking woman wearing a black Chanel suit, her dark hair in a tight bun, and very little makeup, if any.

She was a handsome woman, although not beautiful, and Amanda thought she had a gentle look in her eyes when she shook her hand and made small talk with her, fascinated that she was meeting Olivier's wife.

Stephanie had no idea who she was.

Amanda couldn't resist asking her, "Is your husband here with you?"

She felt like a total fraud inquiring, and Stephanie shook her head.

"No, he isn't.

Do you know him?"

She seemed surprised at that.

People didn't usually ask her about Olivier.

Many of her friends had never even met him.

"I think he came to an opening at my gallery once,"

Amanda said vaguely.

Stephanie nodded then, that made sense.

"He's not a fan of equestrian events."

She introduced Amanda then to a petite redheaded younger woman, in a short sexy black dress and high stiletto heels, with a pretty face, wearing bright red lipstick.

Everything about the two women seemed opposite to an almost comic degree.

They talked for a few more minutes, said that they were riding partners on the same circuit, and were leaving for a show in England the next day.

The redhead disappeared into the crowd with a glass of champagne, and Olivier's wife went to the dais and took her place with the other judges.

A bell had sounded, and the event itself was about to start.

Amanda was shaken by having met Stephanie, who was nothing like what she had imagined.

She had a schoolteacher look to her and was surprisingly plain in her severe black suit with her hair pulled back.

She was the French equivalent of a Park Avenue matron.

She'd been wearing flat black suede Hermès loafers and dark stockings, with a string of pearls around her neck.

She was one of those women who looked like she was accustomed to wearing a uniform and had no idea what to wear when she wasn't.

Her riding partner, on the other hand, had no trouble figuring it out at all, and was very pretty with her wild red hair and big blue eyes, and the very short sexy dress and high heels.

Stephanie looked very official and serious once she took her place on the dais and put on glasses.

And a few minutes later, the jumping competition began.

Amanda stayed for about half of it, and then slipped away, called an Uber, and left.

She thought about Stephanie all the way home.

There was something subtly sad about her, as though she had been disappointed by life, and wasn't quite sure why it had turned out that way.

She didn't look like a mean woman, or manipulative.

If anything, Amanda felt sorry for her.

She felt almost guilty stealing her husband from her.

And they were such an odd match.

Maybe when they had married, in their early twenties, youth and innocence had masked who they would turn out to be later, but who they were as adults was very different.

Olivier was so vital and alive and exuberant, so dashing, exciting, and handsome.

There was a strong current within him, a kind of creative electricity Amanda found irresistible, and that had caught her attention from the beginning.

Stephanie seemed painfully shy and uncomfortable, and austere.

Amanda was sure she had much more self-assurance on horseback in the realm that was familiar to her, but she was socially awkward, which made her seem unfriendly, and even cold.

Amanda suspected Stephanie probably wasn't as cold as she looked, she was just out of her element.

Maybe that was why she wanted the protective covering provided by a husband, even in name only.

Without that, she was on her own.

Amanda could see why they never went out together and had no shared social life.

They were a striking mismatch in every way.

Stephanie appeared to be all sharp edges and pointy corners, unlike Olivier, who was socially smooth and very charming.

Amanda couldn't picture the two of them being friends, let alone married.

She and Olivier were a much better match than he and his wife were.

Stephanie seemed defenseless somehow, and losing Olivier would strip her of the protection she thought she needed to face the world.

Amanda felt wrong being part of their odd relationship.

If Olivier wanted to leave his wife, it had to be his choice.

Amanda didn't want to pull him out of it, leaving Stephanie bleeding on the side of the road.

Amanda wasn't even sure he'd have the courage to leave Stephanie, now that she'd seen her and talked to her.

She could see why he had stayed married to her and hadn't insisted on a divorce.

Just staying in it was easier, and they each had their own life, with no common ground, doing what they wanted.

She couldn't imagine living that way.

But having met Stephanie, she didn't see how Olivier could divorce her, and she questioned if he would.

She seemed vulnerable as much as awkward.

Amanda tossed and turned all night, thinking about it.

And the icing on the cake was a series of calls at three in the morning that she didn't answer, but guessed was the breather.

She was so annoyed by it she couldn't sleep afterward, and as a result she looked haggard in the morning when she got to work.

Olivier had slept through the calls.

He'd had a lot of wine to drink with the author he was mentoring.

"Ow, looks like you had a rough night.

The stalker?"

Pascal asked her.

Olivier had rushed out to another early meeting, and she never had a chance to tell him she had met Stephanie the night before.

"Yes, at three a.m.

But other stuff before that.

I met Olivier's wife last night."

"On purpose?"

Pascal's voice was a high-pitched squeak of astonishment when he asked her.

"No, by accident.

I went to a charity equestrian event, sponsored by Hermès.

She was one of the judges, she's a big horsewoman."

"Does Olivier know you met her? Was he there?"

"No.

He wasn't there.

He had an author dinner.

I haven't told him yet, I didn't talk to him this morning.

I think he was out late, drinking heavily with the author.

I was asleep when he came home."

"He probably won't like that you met her."

"He'll never divorce her,"

she said, looking glum.

"Why not? Is she pretty?"

Amanda shook her head, feeling mean when she did.

"No, at first glance she looks stern, like a schoolteacher.

She's very awkward, plain-looking, and kind of sad.

They were childhood friends and got married right out of university.

She's nothing like him.

She's tall, but sort of mousy, like a very big mouse.

There's no fight in her, no spirit, no bright light within.

I don't see how he'll divorce her, and then I'm the one who'll get hurt, because he'll think I'm strong enough to take it and she isn't.

That's what happened to me last time.

I don't know, Pascal.

I think I'm the one heading for a fall, and they'll stay married.

She's not the kind of woman you divorce.

She's very uptight and proper, and I think he doesn't want to hurt her, or get hurt himself."

"You don't know that.

Talk to him about it."

She nodded and went to her office, but she was depressed all day thinking about it.

She didn't see Olivier until late that night, when he came to spend the night with her after the publishing event.

He was happy to see her after two days of being too busy to talk to her.

They sat in her study and chatted, and he had the feeling that something was bothering her, but she didn't say what at first.

It wasn't until they went to get ready for bed that she looked at him in the mirror after brushing her teeth, still holding her toothbrush.

"I met your wife yesterday,"

she said quietly.

"You what?"

He was stunned, and for a moment thought Amanda had gone to see her.

"I met Stephanie,"

she repeated.

"How? Did you call her?"

He looked shocked.

"Of course not.

I would never do that.

I went to the Hermès equestrian event and someone introduced me to her.

She was one of the judges."

He was calmer then.

"I think she said something about it a few days ago.

I wasn't paying attention.

How did she look?"

"Uncomfortable,"

Amanda said, and he smiled.

"She probably was.

She hates big social events, or even small ones."

"She was very proper and distinguished, different than I expected.

She doesn't match you somehow.

I can't envision you with her, even as a kid."

Stephanie looked dead to Amanda, but she didn't say that to Olivier.

She seemed like she had given up on life.

"I assume you didn't mention the connection between us,"

he said cautiously.

"Of course not.

But I can't see how you're going to divorce her.

She seems like an unhappy person.

That's hard to walk away from without being crushed by guilt."

"I don't feel guilty.

I didn't do anything wrong, most of the time, or not that she knows of,"

he corrected himself.

"She'll blame you in the end, and me.

And your kids will hate me when they see how sad their mother is."

"She's always sad.

She isn't predisposed for happiness, or even to give it.

Except if it's something to do with horses or her friends.

She's happy with them, not with me."

"Olivier, you're never going to divorce that woman,"

Amanda said, certain of it.

She was cold but seemed fragile and disappointed by life.

"When the time is right, I could, I am, I will,"

he said in a tone of desperation.

He could feel Amanda slipping away from him.

She was afraid again, of his marital status and of getting hurt.

"I don't believe you.

She looks helpless.

You're too kind a person to do that to her.

And maybe I am too.

I don't want to be the adulteress, the mistress, the bad guy.

If you had paid me to tell her the other night, I couldn't have.

She just looks beaten and sad and like life didn't turn out right for her, and she isn't sure why."

"All of that is true,"

he admitted.

"But I have a right to a life too, and to happiness.

She comes alive at her horse shows.

You don't see that side of her.

She's a different person there.

She shines."

"No, I didn't see that,"

Amanda said quietly.

"But what I'm afraid of seeing is me getting hurt, and you staying with her forever, leading the crazy life that you two invented because you didn't have the guts to divorce her.

And she looks so respectable that I can see why you didn't.

So you live this empty life and stay married to her.

And I wind up brokenhearted again."

"We have to give it time.

It won't happen overnight,"

or maybe ever, Amanda thought.

"I told you I'd move out if you want me to.

She's going away for a while now.

I'll talk to her when she comes back.

I don't want to do it over the phone.

She'll be back in two months.

Just give us enough time to find out how we get along, the two of us, and to find the best way to do this."

And then Stephanie would be even sadder, and no matter what he did, it was going to be Amanda's fault, since she was behind it.

Amanda could see it now.

"If you felt this way, you should have done it years ago."

"But I didn't.

So now I have to figure out how, with the least amount of damage to everyone."

"I don't want to be the bad guy so you can clean up your mess.

She doesn't deserve that, and neither do I,"

she said firmly.

After they talked about it for a while longer, they argued, and finally went to bed and didn't make love.

He went home the next morning, and found a note from Stephanie.

There was a problem in England, so she had left earlier than planned.

She was on the Eurostar as he read the note.

She said she had a lot of prep work to do there for the shows.

The note said she'd be in touch, but he knew she was away this time for two months.

And now he had to wait two whole months to tell Stephanie he wanted out.

He just hoped Amanda would wait that long.

He was panicked again, and he knew Amanda would be too.

He showered and dressed for the office an hour later, and dreaded telling Amanda the news that night, that Stephanie had left before he could talk to her.