The Frenchman's Slow Seduction by Flora Lanoux Page A

so
good.
    Anxious to avoid as
much human interaction as possible, I time my arrival at the clinic
for exactly one o’clock and walk in through the back door. Tim is
in the kennel room rehydrating a sick cat. Moments later, Mike
appears at the doorway.
    “Hi, Rachel. Do you
want to come to the front office to go over this afternoon’s
schedule?”
    When I join him, he
briefs me on the morning’s activities, and we divide the afternoon
jobs. As I’m leaving, he says, “Are we still on for the dinner at
my place on Friday?”
    “Of course,” I tell
him.
    “How’s it going,
Rachel?”
    I shrug. “It’s going to
be a rough week.”
    “What’s wrong?”
    “I’m taking the week to
analyse my life and to make choices about where I’m headed.”
    “Just a week?” he says.
He has such a nice smile.
    “It’s a start.”
    “I miss being with you,
Rachel.”
    “I know.”
    The day is busy and
five o’clock comes mercifully quickly. Not wanting to go home, I go
out to dinner and then to the library. When I finally get back to
my apartment, there are three messages on the answering machine. I
waver between erasing or listening to them.
    The first one is from
Reynaldo. “Hi, Rachel. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Talk
to you soon.” Not if I can help it.
    The next one is from
Mike. “Hi, Rachel. Just wondering how you’re doing. Call me if
you’re up to it.” I’m not.
    My heart reacts when I
listen to the last message. “Hi, Rach. It’s Bryan. Give me a call
when you get the chance. I was just thinking about you and wanted
to talk.” I don’t call him.
    Erasing the messages, I
remember something my mother said: “There’s a period of time we all
go through as women when we’re at the height of everything: our
beauty, our intelligence, our wit, and our energy. It’s a very
nubile phase, and men will come in droves when they see you in this
phase. Don’t be overwhelmed, Rachel, and don’t make the mistake of
being flattered and settling for the first one. And there’s another
thing. Don’t stay with a man because he’s nice and because he wants
you. Make sure you want him. Make sure you desire him.”
    Up until the age of
twenty-eight, I had done without the world of men altogether; now
it seems to be closing in on me.
    After a long shower, I
collapse into bed. Nathaniel appears in my dreams. He’s dead and
his spirit is wandering in the woods. I’m still Sarah, but I’m in
my twenties. Walking in the woods, I catch a glimpse of him now and
again, and there is some comfort there.

 
    Chapter 15
     
    When I wake up, I have
trouble remembering what day it is. It takes me a couple of minutes
to realize that it’s Tuesday and that my alarm didn’t go off.
    Getting to work fifteen
minutes late, I’m the last to arrive. Even Shane has beaten me.
    “Hi, Rachel,” Lucy
says. “Mike’s out back talking with Shane. Shane’s upset about the
police asking him questions about the break-ins.”
    In the treatment room,
Albert fixes his gaze on me. Seeing an empty syringe on the
counter, I find the urge overwhelming. Shane walks in as I’m
squirting water into Albert’s cage.
    “Got you too, did
he?”
    “Yup, and he’s a
she.”
    “What?”
    “She laid an egg the
day after she took a piece out of me.”
    “No shit.”
    “No shit,” I tell him.
“Sorry to hear the police are giving you a hard time.”
    “I couldn’t remember
where I was on the nights of the break-ins. Plus there’s my police
record. No big deal. I’m used to them bugging me.”
    “I don’t think anyone
could get used to that.”
    He frowns. “You don’t
think I’m stealing from the clinic, do you?”
    “No, I don’t.”
    The day passes problem
free. When I get to the car, I realize that I didn’t tell anyone I
was leaving, and drive off.
    After a lazy dinner at
home, I head off to my self-defence course. In the changing room,
Sondra approaches me.
    “ So?” she
says.
    “So what?”
    “Fess up,