“I second that, sis,” Chantelle agreed out of the corner of her mouth.
“Jesus, take the entire wheel,” Shaundra piped up. “I know I’m married, but,damn.”
It was patently clear to all and sundry that this apparition was coming over to speak to Sienna, and the girls all threw her curious looks. “Friend of yours?” Jacyn asked slyly.
“He’s the one who helped with my flat.”
“Girl, he is hot! I totally get why you demanded we come here for drinks.”
“I didn’t demand, now shut up,” Sienna squawked, realizing to her chagrin that she was unconsciously smoothing down her already perfect hair. “If you hussies embarrass me—”
Embarrass her they did, because as he drew up to their table and greeted them with a sonorous, “Mesdames, bonsoir,” they all grinned at him like a bunch of damn fools.
Sienna shot to her feet, holding out her hand. “Maxim, hi.”
He ignored her hand and instead pressed a kiss on each cheek, allowing her to draw in the aroma of him. Leather, road dust, cologne and pheromones. “Glad you could come.”
She sincerely wished he didn’t use the word ‘come’ in her presence, not looking as good as he looked and smelling as good as he smelled. She felt her face heat up to the roots of her hair. She covered her bluster by introducing her friends, and he gravely shook hands all round.
“May I offer you ladies another round, on the house?”
The women were still gaping at him, pretty mouths hanging slack, and Sienna made a mental note to yell at them later.
Maxim disappeared and returned bearing gifts, which he graciously placed on the table. Before Sienna could begin to enjoy hers, he slid an arm into the crook of her elbow and said to the others, “If you would excuse my rudeness, I’d like to have a private word with Sienna.”
There was a chorus of, “Sure! Of course! Be our guest!” and Sienna found herself being swept away, across the bar to the other side, where he pulled up a chair and gestured at her to sit.
In the glow of the single candle on the tabletop, Sienna could fully take in and appreciate the planes of his face, the high cheekbones and dark eyes that were a clear indication of his Asian ancestry. It was also clear that this man wasn’t yet out of his twenties. He had to be at least ten years younger than she was.
But he was still old enough to hold a driver’s license, old enough to work in a bar. Old enough.
He seemed to be waiting for her to speak first, and she became irritatingly flustered. This wasn’t like her. She blurted, “I love the bar.”
He inclined his head, as if accepting a personal compliment. “Thank you. I’ve been traveling a bit; wandering this beautiful world.” He shrugged with Gallic eloquence. “You know how it is. Thought I’d stay rooted awhile, so I’m bartending here. Keeps me busy until I decide on my next adventure.”
A rolling stone, she thought.
“What about you?”
“What about me, what?” she responded stupidly.Goddammit, Sienna!
“Besides changing tires on the side of secluded French roads, what do you do? What brought you to our lovely French countryside?”
“I’m an entrepreneur.” Sienna felt proud every time she said it. She’d applied for a small business loan from Chantelle’s grant and became her own boss. “I own a housekeeping company and have five employees so far. I also offer consultancy services to women who want to start their own businesses. I’ve had many pitfalls in my time, took on a bunch of crappy jobs and a couple of good ones. Now I can help others benefit from my experiences.”
“You help women succeed.” He was regarding her carefully, looking impressed. “Are you in France on business, then?”
“I’m not, although I do attend to my businesses remotely while I’m here. Especially my vlog. Where I am currently staying offers a great background and awesome lighting.”
“Was that why you had a camera running at the roadside when we last met?”
If he had any idea how many times she’d rolled back that video over and over, pausing it to stare at his jeans-clad rear end as he’d bent over to fix that tire!
“Sort of,” she answered nonchalantly. “But to answer your earlier question, I’m here to babysit a lovely, little three-year-old girl.”
He leaned forward with interest. “Is babysitting another one of your enterprises?”
She laughed, relaxing a little. “No. Alicyn is my honorary niece. She is my friend Jacyn’s daughter. She and her husband are flying to Congo in a couple of days.”