Lara

Chapter 6

I'm excited for my first night out here in Brittany. Oh, hell I'm excited for a night out period. Besides O'Henry's which doesn't count, the last time I went "out" was with Anne and Jade to a nightclub in Portland about a year ago. Some flashy place with watered-down blue drinks. I wasn't in the mood and it wasn't my scene. Something tells me the local pub here will be more to my liking.

I send a quick text to Juliette, *Getting ready see you soon!*

It's been drizzling off and on all day, but I decide to risk it and wear my leather jacket without a hood. Looking in the mirror, I smile at how my new haircut compliments my all-black ensemble of skinny jeans, and the new sweater and booties I purchased in Lannion. The only jewelry I'm wearing is the necklace Mémé gave me, it's blue-green stones reflecting in the light.

I hardly recognize the woman looking back at me, and it's not just the new haircut or outfit - it's more than that. "Lara Sloan," I chuckle at my reflection, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're looking happier." And sexier, I admit to myself. Which is a new feeling.

Grabbing my clutch and heading out, I'm halfway down my driveway when I see a familiar figure up ahead.

I smile, surprised to see him here instead of at the pub. "Salut Philippe!" I feel like we know each other well enough now for me to use the more informal greeting.

"Ah, my favorite petite American." He approaches wearing his charming smile and instead of the traditional French greeting, he takes my hand and lightly kisses it with a slight bow.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Such a flirt, I think to myself, suppressing a giggle. He takes my hand, looping it through his arm as we start to walk.

"So, what has my petite American been up to since I saw her last?"

"Oh, this and that, I explored Lannion yesterday..." I pause, remembering the handsome stranger I met. I find myself blushing slightly at the memory.

Philippe raises his eyebrow. "Lannion was to your liking I take it? Or something or someone was?"

I steer the conversation to a safer subject. "Well, I did meet a woman who does pottery. Beautiful pieces. My grandmother's house has some that look similar actually..."

My thoughts wander to the letter. The initials can't be a coincidence, so the letter was most likely a thank you letter to Mémé for purchasing the pottery. But then again, based on the length of the letter, Adelaide Dubois was most likely saying more than just thank-you, so it must have been a friend. My curiosity is piqued and it's like I've opened a window into Mémé's life and I'm not ready to shut it yet. Earlier, I had tried to translate it using Google translate but gave up and decided to wait till Juliette could help me.

"Philippe," I say suddenly, "You have lived here a long time, do you know an artist with the initials A.D.? Or possibly Adelaide Dubois?"

"I haven't heard the name no. I was born here yes but did much traveling in my youth. It has been in the last year I have returned home to run the family business. However, I can ask my father. He has lived here his whole life."

"If you don't mind, I'd appreciate that."

He pats my hand and gives me a sideways smile. "But of course. Anything you ask."

I suddenly find myself wondering how old Philippe is. Or what his family is like. He has never mentioned a wife or a girlfriend. But Philippe seems like the type that might have many girlfriends.

"So, is it just you and your father? Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Ah yes, I have one sister who lives in Paris. She runs a successful bakery. We have our father only, our mother died when we were young."