Capturing Paris by Katharine Davis

light.
    The first guests had arrived within a few minutes of one another: Céleste and Georges bearing a sumptuous box of chocolates and Mary and Tom, who gave Wesley an expensive bottle of Cognac. Georges, looking like an Old World French gentleman, wore a dark suit, and Céleste looked pretty and festive in a red silk dress, a departure from her usually understated clothes.
    Mary, a petite woman with dark straight hair, looked a little tired to Annie—perhaps she was coming down with a cold too. Usually so lively and talkative, she seemed subdued. Tom and Mary did not have children, and Annie wondered if Mary, now close to forty, ever would. Tom was ten years her senior and had the handsome, energetic looks of a man who knew how to have a good time, the kind of man who would have been the center of attention at college fraternity parties. Annie knew his bravado and charm had a lot to do with his success in international sales.
    Daphne had come later, once the others had settled comfortably by the fire. When Annie answered the door, Daphne had entered the hall with flushed cheeks, her golden hair sprinkled lightly by the wet evening mist, and smelling of cold. She offered Annie a small, beautifully wrapped gift. “Something just for you,” she said, giving Annie a hug. Annie took the now-familiar blue cape, and they joined the others in the living room.
    The party began well, and by the time they gathered around the table for dinner, Annie was relaxed and had begun to enjoy herself. They started into the first course while the filet of beef roasted in the oven and a mushroom shallot red wine sauce simmered on the stove. Wesley looked handsome to her in his tweed sport coat and festive red bow tie on a crisp blue shirt. At moments like this, she forgot her anger. She liked seeing him at the opposite end of their table. It felt like some kind of balance had been restored to their marriage. He was a charming host, talking and laughing easily with their guests. The echo of their angry words that had hung about the apartment all week was fading away in the convivial chatter.
    Annie had seated Céleste and Mary on either side of her husband. Georges, who sat at Annie’s left, was already joking with Wesley about the merits of that night’s wine. “I think you’ve finally outdone yourself on this pick,” he said. He swirled the wine and lowered his nose into the glass to capture the bouquet. “Indeed, it’s a good one, but I don’t believe it was only thirty euros.” He shook his head. “I think I’ll need the receipt for proof.”
    â€œThey challenge each other to find the most beautiful wine for a price,” Céleste explained to the others. She looked across the table and met her husband’s eyes, smiling affectionately. Annie couldn’t imagine Georges and Céleste having an argument. She’d never heard her utter a critical word about her husband.
    â€œYou know I play by the rules.” Wesley laughed. “Wait until you try the Sauternes I have for dessert.” They continued to banter about which wine merchants you could trust.
    Annie worried about Mary, who talked and laughed politely along with the others, all while keeping an attentive eye on Tom. He sat across the table from her, between Céleste and Daphne. Tom had given Daphne an appreciative glance when he first arrived. He also complimented her on her dress when he took his place beside her at dinner, but so far he was keeping his flirtatious tendencies in check. Mary had told Annie about a huge fight they’d had recently. She worried that Tom was seeing another woman. Annie had found it unsettling to hear about her boss’s unhappy marriage. Mary had enumerated the symptoms, as if describing a disease where powerful germs had infectedtheir once happy lives. Just listening to Mary’s woes made Annie fearful, as though it could be contagious. She had no intention of