CH 87 In Demand

With its one large window, wall of bookshelves and cabinets, and single long table surrounded by eight chairs, the cozy dining room into which Bonnie, Angela and Richard were shown some hours later looked to belong more to a private residence than to the Michelin-starred restaurant they'd entered two floors below. Their host, Henri Perrin, greeted them warmly, and, as, with their arrival, the company was complete, it was not long before they were all seated at the table and being served their first course.

The mood was convivial, the conversation easy. Henri, flushed with the success of the weeklong festivities and doubtless glad to have them safely behind him, was more open and relaxed than Bonnie had ever seen him, as gracious as if he were, in fact, entertaining them in his own home. He was particularly attentive to Gwen Cummings who had hosted a dinner for him during his stay in Washington, and who, on that account, had been given the seat of honor on his right, across from her husband.

Rosa, acting as Henri's hostess, presided at the other end of the table, with Richard on her one side, and Angela on the other. Bonnie and Bear occupied the middle seats and, as such, were drawn into conversations sometimes at one end, sometimes the other. At one point, Bonnie happened to tune back into Gwen's enumeration of the many highlights of her holiday, and heard the older woman sigh, "The trouble with Paris is, it's such a wonderful city, whenever I come here, I never want to leave."

Henri smiled in understanding. "I am the same. That is to say, whenever I travel, whether for business or pleasure, I am always in a hurry to come back." He turned to Dr. Cummings. "You are flying out tomorrow?"

"That's right: ten a.m. departure out of Charles de Gaulle. Baer's on the same flight, I believe." He looked to Bear for confirmation and received a nod in reply.

"And you, Bonnie?" Henri asked. "When do you go?"

"Sunday morning." She smiled over at Angela, who was following the exchange. "A last day with my grandmother."

"Ah!" Henri regarded her soberly, his manner suddenly tentative. "Naturally, I am reluctant to intrude on your time together…"

"But…?" Dr. Cummings prompted, as Henri hesitated.

"But, since Bonnie gave her talk, the Louvre press office has received half a dozen requests for interviews which I have been asked to pass on. I know it is a terrible imposition, Bonnie, Mme Montenegro, but we were hoping you would set aside some time to meet with one, or maybe two, of them."

Bonnie reached into the pocket of her dress and withdrew the card the journalist had given her. "If one of them is Micheline Barthes of Le Parisien, I've already agreed in principle to speak to her."

"May I?" Bonnie passed the card over, and after a moment's frowning down at it, Henri shook his head. "She was not among the ones who phoned."

"What if," Angela put in quickly, "Bonnie were to stay an extra day or two? That way, she could sit for some interviews tomorrow, and we could have our day together Sunday."

Henri inclined his head. "From my standpoint, Madame, that would be ideal, but, of course, as that would mean Bonnie missing work, Charles must also be agreeable. What do you say, Charles? Can you spare Bonnie to us for another day?"

Dr. Cummings smiled, and said mildly, "I'm pretty sure we can oblige." He consulted Bear with a look, and, on receiving a nod, went on to ask, "Is Bonnie currently working on anything that can't wait?"

Bear shook his head. "Just at the moment she's between assignments."

"All right, then, good! If it'll help you out, Henri, and provided Bonnie's willing…"

She nodded "yes."

"Then, I don't see a problem with her staying on through Monday, or even Tuesday, if it's useful."

Henri beamed. "Thank you, Charles! I did not like to ask, but, as you offer, yes, we would very much appreciate those extra days. You see, one of the morning news shows — Télé-Matin — has expressed an interest in having Bonnie on, and there's been an inquiry as well from the producer of France Culture."

That triggered a buzz of excitement. Everyone, it seemed to Bonnie, was talking at once, exclaiming over the splash she'd made, congratulating her again, wishing her good luck. Rosa actually clapped her hands in delight, and, when the commotion had died down, crowed with satisfaction, "This is going to put you right over the top for the Louvre Fellowship, Bonnie! It's as good as yours!"

Another wave of excitement crested, only to fall flat when Henri failed to join in. "I am sorry to contradict you, Rosa," he said gravely, "but, as regards the fellowship — I will be plain with you, Bonnie — there is some risk that, by doing these interviews, you will actually hurt your chances."

"What?" Richard burst out. "But that's absurd!"

"Personally, I agree, but there are those on the committee who feel strongly that the fellowship should not be conferred purely on the basis of merit, but on the combination of merit and need. The purpose of the appointment, after all, is to give some promising young conservator a 'leg up,' so to speak, a boost that will help him — or her — rise to the next professional level. It can, and I don't doubt will, be argued that Bonnie, with all she has achieved, has already made that jump, and is beyond needing the Louvre's assistance."

"But," Gwen objected, "that's not fair! Bonnie shouldn't be penalized for her accomplishments!"

"Again, I agree, and Bonnie may be sure of my — and Rosa's — full support, but I fear we may well be in the minority."

Bear had not contributed anything in the last little while, and Bonnie, looking across at him, found him looking back. She suspected he was remembering, as she was, his early opposition to her interning at the Jeff, also on the grounds that she was depriving someone who needed it more of the opportunity. It was true that she'd made enough of a mark here in Paris that she could easily do without the prestigious Louvre Fellowship on her resumé. In the tight conservation job market, her work on Lebrun, alone, would likely give her the edge on a full-time, permanent position, and, even if her every other option fell through, she had Sébastien's standing offer in her back pocket. Hers was an enviable position, and she was wondering if it wouldn't be best all around if she simply withdrew her application when Dr. Cummings' voice broke into her thoughts. He was turned her way, patently waiting for an answer. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked whether, now that you know the fellowship's in play, you want to reconsider doing the interviews."

"Oh! No. No, thank you. I'll do them. Gladly."

"That's the spirit! And, just between you and me…" He leaned toward her and continued in a mock-confidential tone, "I'm selfishly hoping the Louvre doesn't snap you up, and the Jeff gets the chance to keep you."

"Hear, hear!" Gwen said, raising her glass. The cheer was quickly taken up, and everyone drank in approval, including Henri.

The dinner was brought to a spectacular close by the presentation of a magnificent croquembouche, a sparkler glittering atop its golden summit and tiny French and American flags studding its sides. The tower of cream puffs once demolished, the Cummings, citing their early wake-up call and profuse in their thanks to Henri, made their farewells, and the rest of the party was not long in following suit. As they all stood about saying their good-byes, Bonnie was interested to see that Bear drew Rosa aside and spoke to her, if not with warmth, at least with great civility. Rosa looked flustered, if pleased, by this unusual attention, and was so obviously surprised when he awkwardly held out his hand that she almost didn't take it.

Bonnie would have dearly loved to ask Bear if that was the overture of peace it looked to've been, but, though he walked out with them, she wasn't given the chance. On the way down the stairs, he gave Angela an arm she was glad of, and, outside the restaurant, the cab Richard had ordered arrived so promptly, there was time only for a last round of handshakes and mutual assurances on Bear, Richard, and Angela's parts that it had been a real pleasure meeting and getting to know each other. "Safe travels," Angela said, clasping Bear's hand between both of hers. "And, next time you're in Paris, please come by and see me. You'll be very welcome."

"Thank you! Good night!" Bear added, as Angela and then Richard climbed into the cab, leaving the back door open.

Bonnie looked reluctantly at the idling car, then at Bear. "Can we drop you at your hotel?"

"No, thanks. It's out of your way, and only a block from here, besides."

"Oh." She dragged her feet toward the cab. He stepped up to hold the door for her. "Well, then, have a good trip, and I guess I'll… ah… see you next week."

He nodded. "You take care. Don't let them work you too hard."

"All right." And then, there being nothing more to say, she smiled and folded herself into the cab. Bear swung the door closed, and the driver, wasting no time, pulled away from the curb. Bonnie twisted in her seat and looked out the back window, hoping for a last wave, but Bear, head bowed, hands in his pockets, was already walking away in the opposite direction.

The next four days went by in a whirl. At the Louvre's request, Bonnie met with two journalists in addition to Micheline Barthes on Saturday, and, as all of their stories appeared online or in the print version of their respective newspapers the next day, Bonnie and Angela were able to pour over them separately and together over breakfast. They were light, informative pieces, relying, predictably, on the more scandalous aspects of Bonnie's findings to grab their readers' attention. As material to pique the public's interest and entice them into the museum, the features couldn't be improved upon, and the Louvre's public relations team was, reportedly, pleased.

Her on-air interviews also went well. The morning-show host was a kindly man, prepared, given Bonnie's youth and nationality, to go easy on her and be patient, but she surprised him off the bat by answering his questions in a French so nearly native in fluency and accent, he was completely disarmed and delighted. They wound up having a lively exchange which they both enjoyed immensely. By the time her appearance on the evening program rolled around, she'd been asked, and had answered, the same set of questions so many times, she had her replies at the ready, and so acquitted herself, if her friends could be believed, with authority and grace.

In between media obligations, Bonnie put herself entirely at her grandmother's disposal, and Angela responded by spoiling her outrageously. She threw a drinks party in her honor Sunday evening, and, despite the late notice, Angela's neighbors, artist friends, and current protégés turned up en masse, crowding into the living room until the space was wall-to-wall people. The next evening, she gave a more intimate dinner, and, as Rosa was one of the guests, Bonnie was able to confirm that Bear had, indeed, offered her an olive branch. He'd thanked her for her part in helping him maintain custody of Danny, and had also intimated that he might be open, next time she visited Washington, to their getting together. "It's only a toe in the door," Rosa granted. "But it's a start, Bonnie. A reason, finally, to hope."

Bonnie was so elated, she wrapped Rosa in a hug. "I'm so, so pleased for you, Rosa. And, you know what? Now that you've got the ball rolling, I just feel sure everything's going to work out fine!"

Rosa smiled. "From your lips to God's ear, chérie!"

On their last day together, Angela proposed they spend their morning shopping along the Rue St. Honoré followed by lunch out, possibly at Ladurée. Bonnie readily agreed — she had several small purchases in mind — but it was a decision she was later to regret as she found herself at loggerheads with her grandmother over Angela's wanting to treat her to a chic new look for that evening's interview. Bonnie was not about to let Angela go to the expense of a Chanel or Dior outfit, but neither did she like to disappoint her, and so, in the end, she accepted the gift of a bold Hermès scarf to wear with her simple navy dress. That settled, Angela happily applied herself to splurging on other gifts: her favorite Guerlain perfume for Christine, cashmere mufflers for Max and Junior, an Armani tie and pocket square for Booth.

Between them, they returned with so many items for Bonnie to take stateside, they couldn't all be made to fit in her suitcase, and she was obliged to pack the overflow into a borrowed carry-on bag. "It's only a loan, remember," Angela teased the next morning, as, bags stacked beside Bonnie, they stood on the penthouse landing waiting for the elevator car. "I'm going to need you to return it soon and in person, you hear me?"

Bonnie smiled, grateful to her grandmother for trying to keep the moment light. She stepped into her open arms, and hugged her tight. "Thanks so much for everything, Grammy. You've been wonderful, as always."

Angela drew back, and, smiling gently, caressed Bonnie's cheek. "It's been a joy having you, sweetheart. And, seriously, come back soon, if you can swing it. Whenever and for however long you like." The box-like car glided into view; the red warning light turned to green. "Off you go, now, before one of us gets weepy. I won't say good-bye…"

"Because it's only au revoir," Bonnie finished, as she always did. "Until next time, Grammy. Take care."

"Until next time, my love. Safe trip."