Over champagne, that evening, Dylan said, ‘I want to take you out to dinner to say thanks—being here with us really made a difference to Ted’s decision to give us the project. Do you think your mum would babysit Ty for us?’
‘Probably. I’ll ask her,’ Emmy said.
‘Do you mind if I ask her?’ Dylan asked.
She smiled. ‘You know her number.’ Dylan might not be that close to his own mother, she thought, but he definitely got on well with hers.
The following evening was Dylan’s turn to cook. Over pasta, he told her, ‘I spoke to your mum this morning. It’s all arranged; we’re going tomorrow.’
‘Going where?’ she asked.
‘Out to lunch,’ he said. ‘Except we need to leave really early tomorrow morning, and you’ll need your passport.’
She frowned. ‘Why do I need my passport?’
‘Don’t be difficult,’ he said. ‘I was going to take you out to dinner, but I thought lunch might be more fun.’
‘Lunch is fine, but what does that have to do with my passport?’
‘Surprise.’
She sighed. ‘You do know I hate surprises, don’t you?’
‘I think you’ll like this one.’ Annoyingly, he refused to be drawn on any further details.
‘Are you at least going to tell me the dress code?’ she asked in exasperation.
He thought about it for a moment. ‘Smart casual—probably a little bit more on the smart side. You definitely need shoes you can walk in.’
‘So we’re walking somewhere?’
‘End of information bulletin. No more answers,’ he said, and gave her the most infuriating grin. Worse still, he refused to be drawn for the rest of the evening.
‘I swear I’m never playing poker with you,’ she said. ‘You’re inscrutable.’
He just laughed. ‘I’ve been called worse.’
The next morning, Dylan knocked on Emmy’s bedroom door at what felt like just before the crack of dawn. ‘We’re leaving in half an hour.’
Which gave her just enough time to shower, wash her hair, dress, and check in on Tyler. Her mother was already in the kitchen when Emmy came downstairs, and the kettle was on. ‘Hi, Mum. Thanks for babysitting. Tyler’s still asleep, given it’s the crack of dawn.’ She greeted her mother with a hug and kiss. ‘Coffee and toast?’
‘We don’t have time,’ Dylan said.
She gave him a sceptical look. ‘You know I’m horrible if I haven’t eaten. And why do we have to leave so early if we’re going out to lunch, which won’t be for hours?’
He answered her question with one of his own. ‘You’ve definitely got your passport in your bag?’
She gave him a withering look. ‘I’m not that flaky, Dylan.’
‘Sorry. Old habits die hard.’ He ruffled her hair. ‘Let’s go. We have a train to catch.’
So wherever they were going, it was by Tube. She still had no idea why he wanted her to bring her passport; though, knowing Dylan, that could be a red herring. She kissed her mum goodbye; to her surprise, so did he. Together, they headed for the Tube station, a ten-minute walk away.
Emmy noticed that although Dylan was wearing one of his work suits, teamed with a white shirt and highly polished shoes, at least for once he wasn’t wearing a tie. She’d opted for a simple black shift dress teamed with black tights and flat shoes; a silver and turquoise choker; and a turquoise pashmina.
‘You look lovely,’ he said.
She inclined her head. ‘Thank you, kind sir. Actually, you don’t look so bad yourself.’
He smiled back at her. ‘Why, thank you.’
Ten minutes later, they arrived at King’s Cross. The second he directed her through the exit to St Pancras, she realised where they were going. ‘We’re going to Paris for lunch, Dylan? That’s incredibly decadent!’
‘Not really. It’s as quick to take the train from London to Paris as it is to drive from London to Brighton,’ he pointed out. ‘Anyway, I love Paris. It’s a beautiful city.’
To her delight, he’d booked them in business class so they could have breakfast on the train.
‘So this is why you wouldn’t let me have even a piece of toast at home,’ she said, surveying the feast in front of her. Champagne with fresh orange juice, smoked salmon and scrambled egg, fresh strawberries, and good coffee. ‘This has to be the most perfect breakfast ever. I feel totally spoiled.’
He smiled. ‘Good.’
‘I’ve never been in business class before.’ Because she could only really afford standard class. And only then if she booked the seat early enough to get the supercheap rate.
He shrugged. ‘The seats are more comfortable.’
‘Thank you, Dylan. This is a real treat.’
* * *
Dylan watched her selecting what to have next; he loved the fact that she was enjoying her food rather than picking at it, the way Nadine always had.
She caught him watching her. ‘Sorry. Am I being greedy?’
He laughed. ‘No, I was just thinking how nice it is that you enjoy your food instead of nibbling on a lettuce leaf.’
‘This is a lot better than you or I can cook,’ she said with a smile. ‘And if we’re going to Paris, I take it we’re walking, so I’m going to burn all this off anyway.’
The journey to the Gare du Nord was quick and uneventful; a short trip on the Métro took them to the Champs Elysées.
‘It’s too long since I’ve been to Paris. I’d almost forgotten how lovely it is—all that space in the streets, all the windows and the balconies.’ She gestured across to a terrace on the other side of the street. ‘I love that wrought ironwork.’
He smiled at her; he recognised that light in her eyes. The same as it had been at the butterfly house, and he’d seen drafts of designs that reminded him of the metalwork in the old Edwardian conservatory. ‘Are you going to get your notebook out and start sketching?’
She smiled back. ‘Not in the middle of the street. But would you mind if I took some photographs to remind me later?’
‘’Course not. Enjoy.’
They wandered down the street and stopped in a small café. Macaroons were arranged in a cone shape on the counter, showcasing all the different colours available, from deep pink through to browns, yellows and pistachio green.
‘I guess we have to try them, as we’re in Paris,’ he said, and ordered macaroons with their coffee.
‘This is just lovely. The perfect day.’ Her eyes were all huge and shiny with pleasure—and that in turn made Dylan feel happy, too.
This was definitely as good as it got.
And taking her to Paris was the best idea he’d ever had. Romantic and sweet—and this might be the place where he could ask her to change their relationship. Be more than just his co-guardian. If he could find the right words.
‘What would you like to do before lunch?’ he asked.
‘Are you planning to go somewhere