Aurélie

Chapter Ten

When Aurélie came down stairs the house was empty and beautifully quiet. Relief flooded through her, the weeks had been flying by and although the house and kitchens were nearly ready Aurélie had been putting in 14 hour days and she was absolutely shattered. A couple of minutes to herself without a paint brush in hand felt like a luxury. She pulled a bowl out of the cupboard and drenched her muesli in milk, slopping some over the side onto the wooden work top. She reached over to tear off some kitchen roll and wiped up the mess, using her other hand to open the cutlery draw and grab a spoon. The wonders of being a woman and multitasking!

Aurélie often wondered if all dolphins weren't female, it made sense if they could continue swimming while being half asleep, she felt half sleep most days now and was only jolted awake of Sebastien was around being his usually irritating and pedantic self. She slouched through to the front room and collapsed into an armchair.

"Don't mind me," a voice from the dining table said. Aurélie jumped, splashing more milk down herself.

"God do you always have to creep around unannounced?" She glared at Sebastien who was lounging over a newspaper and strumming his fingers on a blue coffee cup.

"I think you're the one doing the creeping, cherie" he gave a lopsided grin. "I've been sat here happily reading, you're the one that came into my space."

Aurélie rolled her eyes and was suddenly very aware of her worn tartan pyjama bottoms and black sleeveless vest. Not forgetting the wonderful hairstyle that she was currently rocking thanks to rolling out of bed.

Wait, was that milk or flecks of white paint in her hair? It's so hard to tell.

She tried to surreptitiously tuck her vest into her bottoms and pulled one of Lena's blankets off the back of the armchair to cover her arms.

"Loving the outfit Relie, you're really embracing the shabby chic look".

"Shurrup"'Aurelius countered with a mouthful of muesli.

"British women are so classy, I've always said that," Sebastien remarked, scraping his chair back as he stood up.

"Coffee? I need a refill" he offered.

"Yeah, thanks" she muttered, glancing sideways as he walked out of the room. He really was tall, and he moved with the air of a lazy tom cat, limbs firm but not in any particular hurry. He turned in the doorway to say something and caught her looking, she whipped her head backwards and silently cringed behind the wing of the armchair, pressing her back into the chair.

Well that's going to help his ego. Must get out and meet other people, I am not lowering my standards, or getting off with an art student I'm Paris, that's so cliche.

She cursed herself for negligent perving.

"Milk, sugar?" Seb called from the kitchen.

"Both please!" Aurélie yelled.

Did he offer me sugar or call me sugar? Do French men do that? Is that a thing here too? Her mind was reeling.

It had been weeks since the bloke from the Loft took her on a date and she was felt it was high time she had a vital sign from her love life.

Enough flat-lining already. I've worked my fingers to the bone on this renovation, surely I've been banking my karma coins along the way?

Aurélie could hear Lena moving around on the ground floor, putting the final touches to the guest bedrooms on the first floor. She'd taken some of the souvenirs she had gathered on her travels and various yoga retreats and dispersed them throughout the rooms to give them a unique and distinctly home-spun feel. Wooden statues and tribal masks resided on fresh white walls as tarnished, turquoise framed mirrors lined the bounced back light and gave the illusion of more space to darkened corners. Aztec patterned rugs featured in rooms alongside mahogany bedsteads and chests of draws.

"Could you maybe not do that?" Aurélie glared at Seb who was strumming with his index finger and a black biro on the dining table, nodding his head, in rhythm so that his dark curls fell forward over his eyes.

"Do what?" he looked up at her, a smile forming at the corners of his mouth

"That. The tapping with the pen. "

"Does it bother you?" His smile grew wider and a perfectly formed eyebrow shot up in an arch.

"Yes. Marginally. " Aurélie kept her face passive.

Don't let him rile you. He's like an unbearable child.

"That's a shame, it's the opening beats to a song I was about to sing for you."

"How wonderful." she turned her attention back to her breakfast, picking a copy of Vogue off the floor and flipping through the pages. She peeled back a perfume sample and rubbing it on her wrists and then neck.

"Yes. I won't now though. The mood's been ruined," Seb said.

"That's a shame." She responded absent-mindedly.

"It's quite an epic song. Fourteen verses. "

"Gosh, I've clearly underestimated your memory skills." She murmured, eyes skimming the top of the magazine, catching his eye as she did so.

"Yes, I think you have. It's one of the many strings to my proverbial bow," he nodded in agreement.

"I truly feel awful to have prevented your musical outbreak."

"Don't worry little one," Seb stretched his arms up over his head, exposing a slither of taut golden stomach as his grey t shirt rode up that was pretty hard to ignore. He tapped her on the head in an unceremoniously patronizing way with his biro.

"Got to run, these canvases won't paint themselves," he bent down next to her to pick up his bag from the sideboard and put his headphones around his neck.

"Perfume smells delicious Rel!" he gave her a wolfish grin over his shoulder. She felt her cheeks flame, she just wasn't sure if she was mad or flattered. She waited until the door had closed behind him before pulling a face and blowing out her cheeks in frustration.

Paris is such a beautiful city, why do I have to share it with an utter moron?