Blog and other works of literary sense
|A chapter excerpt from my book Tentatively Titled Seurat Meeting. Tell me if you like it!
(c) Copyright Mary Faderan
"They arrived at the French pastry shop in ten minutes’ time. They were seated by the window. It was lovely view of the outside. The Fall leaves on the ground across the window from them. It was still sunny. The sun blazed into the window and warmed them. The Fall weather creeped into the bistro when people arrived, sweeping in the wind with them. Some of the leaves escaped into the bistro. The waiter would shoo it away and sweep them out of the door when he had a moment. It made Maddie wrinkle her nose. She thought waiters ought not to do housekeeping while they’re doing their job as waiters sending plates of food to their customers. It wasn’t done too do housekeeping while on the job as waiters, that’s what she thought.
There was a waiter who was taking their orders. “Would you like an orange juice with your order?” Asked Colin.
“I’d love it,” she replied. “Thank you very much!”
“Orange juice for the lady, please,” he told the waiter who nodded and bowed slightly at both of them before he departed for the kitchen to place their order of brioche and eggs scrambled with orange juice for the lady and for the gent he wanted coffee with milk, or cafe au lait with her Ladyship. The waiter liked them both. He thought they made a good pair - a good looking couple.
And that’s what Colin thought himself. He could fall for Maddie in a heartbeat. She was a beauty. Her blonde hair fell to her shoulders like a golden cloud, and her brown eyes were a deep brown, with fringes of lashes that framed them innocently when she would stare at him with a look that seemed like she longed to hear what he had to say. Her lips were full and lovely to look at, with a cupid’s bow on her upper lip. She had a lovely figure, that strained her shirt and made him feel happy and sad to think about. Maddie was a heart-stopping blonde woman. That’s the statement he had in his mind. He beheld her like a groupie. I think this woman is a dangerous woman to me, he thought in conclusion. Better not think of her this way, he thought prudently. “I can’t see her anymore,” he muttered to himself sadly.
“What did you say?” Asked Maddie, absently.
“Nothing,” he replied, adding, “in particular.”
“I thought you said you can’t see her anymore,” Maddie replied patiently. “Why can’t you see me anymore? What have I done?”
“Nothing, nothing, nothing,” Colin replied sadly. HIs thoughtful face made her look worriedly at him. “I just can’t see you anymore, that’s all I said.”
“Why can’t you see me anymore?”
“Because you’re a dangerous woman,” he said casually, thinking it best to tell her straight what he thought of her. It would be a test to her abilities. As a woman who could fall for him. It was what they called in Spy school, judging a temptation, like a woman who might fall for him. Was she in love with already? He wondered.
“I’m a dangerous woman?” She echoed, wonderingly. Her eyes looked at him staring. “Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re a distraction to me with my work,” he replied.
“What do you do for your job? Where do you work?”
“I work for the government, I work for my government, I mean,” he stammered aloud, and wished she didn’t ask him that question.
“Oh, you’re from England, from your lovely accent, aren’t you?” She asked, with a clearing of her brow, her face.
“I am from there,” he replied.
“I see, your work you English government, are you a spy for them?? Is that why you think I’m a dangerous woman to you?”
“Got it in one,” he replied. He unfurrowed his brow. “I think you’ve got it.”
She leaned back. By the time she did this, their brunch was being served. She waited for their waiter to leave them alone before she whispered to Colin: “I think your secret’s safe with me, I won’t bother you being someone who’s like that!” Maddie looked at her food as though the subject was a fait accompli to her. “The food looks good to me, shall we start eating?”
They dug into the food, she offered him some of her eggs. He tasted them and said “Lovely to eat it.”
“It’s lovely how they fixed the scrambled eggs. So vividly lovely to eat and the texture is divine, just fluffy and filled with body and happiness,” She
“You think scrambled eggs are filled with body and happiness?” He repeated.
“Yes, if they are made by French hands, they are filled with body and happiness. French cooks are always happy, I found. I love French food.”
“You can have a French chef when we - “ he paused at what he was saying. He was going to say: “When we get married and I have you every day,” but he balked at that. His thoughts scrambled to get him to stop saying this. He wasn’t the marrying kind, was he? He asked himself. He hadn’t thought of it when he met other women like Maddie. He was getting involved with her. Why did he offer to ask her to visit the painting every Monday and Friday around eleven o’clock in the mornings?
He put his face in his hand as a gesture of giving up to her charms. “You amaze me, you say what’s on your mind always,” Colin replied. “I’m afraid of what to tell you if you asked.”
“Let’s see, what do you do exactly for your government?” She came out and asked point blank.
“I work with the UN for England’s work for them,” he replied.
“You’re their representative, is that it?”
“Yes, er- Yes.”
Her eyes got round, “You’re not a spy for them are you?”
“I am not,” he lied.
“OH.” She replied, sensing he was lying to save his soul. Your secret’s safe with me, she mouthed to him after getting this revelation from his body language.
“You are good, you are good, you are good,” he said to her finally.
In the meantime, ears were listening to their chat. The waiter they had serving them went to the kitchen and told Monsieur Le Chef that one of their customers was an English spy and that he wantsd to know what to do about this spy in their midst. “Poison him. Poison that English spy!” Replied the chef in a laughing manner. He knew there were ears from England who could hear his remark.
“I’ll do it if you’ll give me the poison,” replied the waiter, whose name was Jacques.
“I don’t have it. You’ll have to do it on your own time.”
“How much do you offer me to off him?” He asked in French.
“Two thousand dollars, and another two thousand for information on what he does for the English.”
“Done, M’sieu Le Chat!”
Monsieur Le Chat, The Cat in the neighborhood, was a known French spy himself. His people populated that cafe, and the neighorhood’s French quarter. Colin Rossiter was surrounded by French spies, from every French countryside. His life was in constant danger. He sensed the place seizing up knowing what he did for a living. He itched for them to leave. But Maddie Hanay was having a lovely brunch and he didn’t have the heart to tell her to stop eating and run away back to his safe place, his apartment which was the brownstone he always coveted when he landed in New York City several years ago with his job as an English spy.
He had a phone call on his cell. It was Javez, his informant. “Hey, man, what’s new?” Asked Javez from Colin.
“Nothing new but I have a new friend, her name is Maddie Hanay,” he replied. Colin looked at Maddie’s face, which was oblivious to his conversation with his colleague, Javez Paul.
“I’ll look her up. Is she an American spy?”
“No, I don’t think so.” Colin turned to Maddie and asked her while he was on the phone: “Tell me about yourself, Maddie? What’s your real name?”
“Madeleine Hanay. I was named for madeleines, their pastries that are scrumptious to eat.”
“I’d love to have you for lunch or dinner,” he said coolly.
Her eyes lit up. It made her incandescent in his eyes.
“What else do you know about yourself?”
“I’m a graduate of NYU. I majored in Journalism. I had a job in the Times but I fell out with the editor and he labeled me as a lazy writer who only wanted to hang out with fashionable newsmakers.”
“So you’re a lazy girl are you?”'