Isabella was so glad she had taken care with her appearance that morning, putting on her newest frock and dabbing some rose water behind each ear. This was such a pleasant change from her usual work dress and apron and she hoped her face was not as red as she felt it must be as she reached out and graciously took a blueberry tart from the Baker's tray.
She looked up through her lashes and said thank you as he smiled and said " Of course! I wanted to repay you for finding one of my lost recipes! They came with me all the way from California and were hand written by my Mother and would be impossible to replace, even though I know them by heart. He set the tray of tarts down on the counter and with a small bow he said "au revoir et salut. "
Isabella turned with a sigh and took a small bite from the tart.
It melted in her mouth and reminded her of days spent by the creek picking blueberries and laying on a quilt in the shade of the ancient oaks and reading books and watching Sadie run through the field of Queen Anne's lace.
She would have to find out where his Patisserie was located and return the other recipe card she had found; surely it belonged to him.
Him.
She had forgotten to ask his name or even tell him hers.
She was not very skilled in flirting or even simple dialog when she considered how tongue tied he made her feel.
Is that what love is?
It wasn't very comfortable she thought as she sipped her tea and waited for the gallery owner to return with her portfolio.
She knew she would dream of pastry tonight and slowly enjoyed the last bit of tart.
If only she could mix the proper shade of golden brown she could paint his image and have a memento of this day. Telling herself she would return to her hotel room and paint she concluded her meeting with the Gallery owner who had returned from his back office with a huge grin and a promise of some very good news for her soon, she quickly wrapped another tart in her napkin and juggled her portfolio and pocketbook and said her goodbyes.
The days passed quickly and before she knew it she had managed to fill several watercolor pads with finished paintings. She had lost all perspective on whether they were any good, she had just sketched and painted with abandon, allowing her brush to paint what her heart felt.
Isabella had received a note from the Art Gallery that said she should come visit right away and so after getting dressed and wrapping her newest paintings in tissue and placing in her bag she was off to see Mr LaPierre at the shop. She had dreamed that he had a grand opening Exhibition of her work and the Queen of England herself had visited and purchased a painting for her sitting room!
Moving quickly down the street she was almost to the Gallery when she noticed a small piece of paper stuck near a bicycle rack. She stopped to pick it up and was delighted to find that it was another recipe!
Today she would search the neighborhood until she found that blueberry tart chef and maybe he would invite her to tea in his gratitude. Maybe she would finally learn his name.
Maybe he would sweep her off her feet and...
"Please! You need to stop this day dreaming and get serious! You could sell some paintings, make a name for yourself, be self supporting!"
She knew she could take care of herself and where had love ever gotten anyone she thought. Her Father had been sad and lonely for as long as she could remember.
The cook had never married after her one true love had been drafted off to war and never come home.
The housekeeper was so happy with her job and filled her free time by knitting that she never seemed to mind being alone.
She broke from her musings and realized she was at the Gallery. Mr LaPierre was standing just inside the door with a grin too large for his face and welcomed her to set her things on the chair and make herself at home.
Then he told her that he had indeed sold everyone of her watercolors for a substantial amount and she almost fainted when she saw the numbers on the cheque he waved in front of her nose!
Well! This certainly made her pause to consider her dreams. Her plans. Her hopes. Her Dream of finding a Prince, a true Love...She had read many books where the man had only proposed marriage after finding the heroinne had a fortune. So many books that she thought what if I become famous and rich and men only seek my company for those reasons?
She placed the cheque in her bag and gave him the new paintings and went to find a bank to start an account. Then she would buy more paper and watercolors and that easel she had been dying to have with the build in stool. She could place it anywhere and paint in comfort for hours.
She had never imagined that anyone would want top buy her work and she forgot to ask LaPierre who had bought them all.
She continued to write home about her days in Paris and tried to find postcards that captured the beauty and style of the city.
Her Father wrote that all was fine with the farm and the animals were all well and the garden coming in nicely. He did mention that Sadie seemed the worse off as she would spend her days either on Isabella's bed or laying on the front porch watching the lane for any sign of her return.
She was starting to really miss home and that news didn't help any!
Really though, she could stay here a while longer, she had much to see and experience and was eagerly anticipating an evening at Moulin Rouge that very night!
~to be continued~