Chapter 16

“So what did you think?” I asked Margaux as we warmed up after the opera at the hotel bar with a glass of wine.

“It was different, certainly. I could see it. It worked, sort of. But the plane flying around the audience during the overture…”

“Yeah.” I gave her a thumbs down.

“My thoughts exactly,” she said.

“Would you ladies like another glass?” asked the bartender in perfect French.

I turned to look at him. He was, quite frankly, gorgeous. And smiling at me with a look that indicated it wasn’t just wine he was asking about.

“Yes, I think perhaps just one more glass, yes, Margaux?” She nodded.

“Your French is impeccable,” I remarked. “I don’t know a lot of Spaniards who speak French, at least not so well.”

“I speak many languages,” he said, “both here at the bar and elsewhere.” The meaning of that last sentence wasn’t lost on me. “Where in France are you ladies from?”

“Paris,” answered Margaux. She was usually the shy one. Not this time, apparently.