Page 12 of The Good Girl Effect
Finally, he bluntly states, “You start on Monday. Phoenix will call you with more information.”
Time stops as I blink at him numbly. I start on Monday. Start what? Did he just tell me he’s hiring me as a nanny?
“Wait, what?”
The broody veil lifts momentarily as he clarifies, “You got the job, Miss Aubert.” But then it’s quickly replaced as he settles his brows together. “Don’t let me down.”
Just when I expect him to say more, he lets out another growly sigh and turns on his heels before marching out of the bookstore without a goodbye. He says something in a kind tone to Marguerite before disappearing through the doors.
I’m standing in shock at the entire encounter, and she seems frozen in the same manner. It’s like he put us both in a daze, and we can’t seem to snap out of it.
Marguerite finally makes her way over to me before placing her hand on her hip, saying, “When were you going to tell me you were applying for other jobs?”
Blinking, I shake myself out of it. “Um…I didn’t mean to. It accidentally happened.”
“Well, you accidentally got the job. Congratulations.”
“Marguerite, I’m sorry,” I say, letting my shoulders melt away from my ears. “I can turn it down.”
“Psh,” she says, waving a hand at me. “Look at this place. Does it look like I need you? You’re taking a job in Paris withthatman. If you turn it down,I’lltake it.”
Suddenly, it’s like everything hits me at once. Placing my hands on my cheeks, I stare at the old woman with eyes shot wide.
I got the job.
I’m moving to Paris.
I’m living with Jack St. Claire and his daughter.
All because I found a picture in a book.
“Don’t panic,” she says with a shake of her head. “You’re young. Your father wouldn’t want you wasting away here in this old town. Go. Have an adventure.”
The mention of my father has my head snapping up. Thick emotion builds behind my eyes because I know she’s right. My father would definitely not want me to stay here when I have the opportunity to go somewhere new.
I clear my throat before responding. “I can…finish the week.”
“Finish the week?” she asks incredulously. “I don’t want you finishing out theday. You need to get home and pack. You’re moving to Paris. Go draw all your little animals there. Leave one on the Eiffel Tower for me.”
I let out a giggle before leaping around the table and wrapping my arms around the woman. She pats my back sweetly before shooing me away.
“Merci, Marguerite,” I say with excitement. Then I grab my purse from under the central desk and dash out the front door.
Rule #4: Don’t get carried away.
Camille
On my next trip to Paris, I have a lot more with me than just one handbag. Okay, it’s not much more, only a rolling valise filled with clothes and a backpack with my electronics. It’s a little depressing to see everything I own fits into one small suitcase, but I’m on a mission to change that. I’m moving to Paris to build a life, a real one.
Once I save up some money working for the St. Claire family, I’ll have the means to get my own place in Paris. Eventually, I could find another job here. Maybe I’ll meet someone, and we could travel the world together. Who knows what my new future holds? The possibilities alone are more exciting than anything I’ve done in the past two years.
My feet are leaving the floor, Papa. And there’s no one to hold me down.
I’ve been in contact with Phoenix since Jack showed up in my bookstore out of the blue last week. She’s helped to set everything up so that when I get off the train at Gare Saint-Lazare, there is a driver outside waiting for me. I have never inmy life seen a man in a black suit waiting for me with my last name printed on a white card, but there he is. I stifle a grin as I wave at him awkwardly. He helps me load my things into the trunk of the car and ushers me into the back seat before we take off toward the apartment in Montmartre.
It still feels like a dream.
Phoenix is standing out front with Bea when we pull up to the building. The little girl, clothed in a slightly more casual blue dress today, hops up and down excitedly as the driver opens my door. As soon as my feet hit the cobblestone street, Bea comes running toward me as if we’re old friends reunited. It tugs at my heart to see how quickly she’s latched on to me.
Table of Contents
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- Page 12 (reading here)
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