life. And now it would be just him and a dog in Paris. He didn’t know a soul there. But he had made no close friends in Washington anyway—only the Armstrongs. So he had nothing to leave behind.
—
The plane trip to Paris went better than Marshall had hoped. He was traveling in business class, and with a matter-of-fact expression, he told the woman at the Air France desk that Stanley was a service dog.
“For what purpose?” she asked as she filled out the form.
“He cuts my meat,” Marshall said seriously, indicating his arm, and she nodded without really listening and jotted down “service dog” on the form. Half an hour later Marshall was on the plane, and Stanley lay down at his feet and went to sleep. The person sitting next to him looked surprised, but didn’t seem to mind.
He took the night flight and arrived in Paris at noon the next day with two suitcases and his dog. The cab driver dropped them off at 22 rue Bugeaud, near a small, elegant hotel called the St. James. They rode up in the elevator of his building to the fifth floor. The guardian gave Marshall the keys that were waiting for him in an envelope. The apartment was as cozy and well kept and bright as it had looked in the pictures. It was a gray February day, but the apartment was filled with light, and it started snowing as Marshall set his bags down in the bedroom. He hadn’t realized it until that moment, but it was exactly two years to the day since he’d left Bogotá, heartbroken and heartsick over leaving Paloma and their baby, the same day that she died. And now with one good arm and a dog, in a Paris apartment, knowing no one in the city, Marshall felt as though his new life had started at last. He could finally put all the old ghosts to rest, and begin to live again.
Chapter 6
Robert Gregory had always had everything he could have wanted and needed in life: Family money to back him up. An education at the best schools, Princeton undergraduate, and the eating club he had chosen, Ivy. Harvard Business School after that. A wife he adored, and a daughter his life revolved around from the moment she was born. And the successful career he had expected. The one great tragedy that had befallen him was when his wife Laura died of a brain tumor only a year ago. They had been to all the best doctors in the country, and neither his money nor his love could save her. He had been devastated by her death, and he turned to his daughter, Ariana, constantly for comfort. And he focused all his love and attention on her now. She loved her father too, and tried to fill the void her mother had left.
The only thing lacking in Robert’s life, as he began winding down in his career, was a dream he had had as a young man. He had always wanted to be an ambassador, to either Britain or France. His father had had the same wish before him, and it had never been fulfilled. And as Robert Gregory watched the presidential campaign unfold, of a man he could truly support wholeheartedly, Phillip Armstrong, the dream of becoming ambassador took hold of him again. To that end, and out of genuine respect for the man he hoped would be president, Robert contributed vast amounts of money to his campaign. He was sure that ultimately, after Armstrong won the election, it would get him the ambassadorship to Britain or France, and he said as much to Ariana several times during the campaign. His hope was the only thing that distracted him from his deep mourning for his late wife.
“Daddy, for heaven’s sake, what do you want to be an ambassador for? It would be such a headache! That’s the last thing you need.” Ariana wasn’t enthused about it, especially now that he was widowed. At nearly seventy, he had had a demanding career for more than four decades, and Ariana thought it would be too stressful for him, especially after all his agony and grief over her mother, which had been so hard on him. He had had a heart scare a few years before, and a successful
—
The plane trip to Paris went better than Marshall had hoped. He was traveling in business class, and with a matter-of-fact expression, he told the woman at the Air France desk that Stanley was a service dog.
“For what purpose?” she asked as she filled out the form.
“He cuts my meat,” Marshall said seriously, indicating his arm, and she nodded without really listening and jotted down “service dog” on the form. Half an hour later Marshall was on the plane, and Stanley lay down at his feet and went to sleep. The person sitting next to him looked surprised, but didn’t seem to mind.
He took the night flight and arrived in Paris at noon the next day with two suitcases and his dog. The cab driver dropped them off at 22 rue Bugeaud, near a small, elegant hotel called the St. James. They rode up in the elevator of his building to the fifth floor. The guardian gave Marshall the keys that were waiting for him in an envelope. The apartment was as cozy and well kept and bright as it had looked in the pictures. It was a gray February day, but the apartment was filled with light, and it started snowing as Marshall set his bags down in the bedroom. He hadn’t realized it until that moment, but it was exactly two years to the day since he’d left Bogotá, heartbroken and heartsick over leaving Paloma and their baby, the same day that she died. And now with one good arm and a dog, in a Paris apartment, knowing no one in the city, Marshall felt as though his new life had started at last. He could finally put all the old ghosts to rest, and begin to live again.
Chapter 6
Robert Gregory had always had everything he could have wanted and needed in life: Family money to back him up. An education at the best schools, Princeton undergraduate, and the eating club he had chosen, Ivy. Harvard Business School after that. A wife he adored, and a daughter his life revolved around from the moment she was born. And the successful career he had expected. The one great tragedy that had befallen him was when his wife Laura died of a brain tumor only a year ago. They had been to all the best doctors in the country, and neither his money nor his love could save her. He had been devastated by her death, and he turned to his daughter, Ariana, constantly for comfort. And he focused all his love and attention on her now. She loved her father too, and tried to fill the void her mother had left.
The only thing lacking in Robert’s life, as he began winding down in his career, was a dream he had had as a young man. He had always wanted to be an ambassador, to either Britain or France. His father had had the same wish before him, and it had never been fulfilled. And as Robert Gregory watched the presidential campaign unfold, of a man he could truly support wholeheartedly, Phillip Armstrong, the dream of becoming ambassador took hold of him again. To that end, and out of genuine respect for the man he hoped would be president, Robert contributed vast amounts of money to his campaign. He was sure that ultimately, after Armstrong won the election, it would get him the ambassadorship to Britain or France, and he said as much to Ariana several times during the campaign. His hope was the only thing that distracted him from his deep mourning for his late wife.
“Daddy, for heaven’s sake, what do you want to be an ambassador for? It would be such a headache! That’s the last thing you need.” Ariana wasn’t enthused about it, especially now that he was widowed. At nearly seventy, he had had a demanding career for more than four decades, and Ariana thought it would be too stressful for him, especially after all his agony and grief over her mother, which had been so hard on him. He had had a heart scare a few years before, and a successful
Similar Books
