Page 10 of Blue Gold

“So you’re from Provence?” Somehow, we still hadn’t discussed where he was from.

“Yes, I was born and raised in a small village there,” he said before taking another bite from the dessert.

As he did, I found it incredibly hard not to glance down at his mouth and his tongue, which poked out to clean his bottom lip.

“It’s a beautiful place.”

I put down my spoon and leaned on my arm. “Is it?”

He nodded, a soft look in his eyes. “Absolutely. Especially when the lavender is in full bloom. Just imagine it, fields covered with the most beautiful purple.”

I then remembered something. “I think I once read about it in a book.”

Elliot’s brows rose. “Oh, did you?”

I nodded. “Yes. The author wrote about how Provence was known for its lavender. If I remember correctly, they even referred to it as ‘Blue Gold.’”

Elliot’s face scrunched up before he chuckled. “Blue Gold?”

“Indeed.”

“Why blue if it’s purple?”

Lost in the deepness of his blue eyes, I shrugged. “I absolutely have no idea.”

His chuckle turned into laughter, a warm and smooth sound that made me so happy.

“Well, that’s odd,” he said, taking another bite as I straightened in my chair.

“I find it poetic,” I admitted when he hummed.

“Everything about France is poetic.”

“That’s because it’s all in French,” I said, and he laughed.

“True. We truly have the best language… and food.”

“So what made you come here?” I cut in. “I mean, why leave fields of purple in exchange for skyscrapers and gray clouds?”

He studied me with a raised brow. “I thought all New Yorkers loved their city.”

That just made me huff. “Not me. I hate it. Hate it to the core.”

“So why not leave?” he asked with such innocence that reminded me of his youth.

“Where would I go?” I snorted because despite hating it, it was still New York. I just liked complaining. “Not to mention, my whole life is here. My parents, my job⁠—”

My cell phone suddenly rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket to see the name written on the little screen. Sitting with Elliot in a small bistro in Brooklyn, I nearly forgot about my real life. The realization that this evening was nothing but a fleeting dream filled me with brief sorrow, as I didn’t want it to be over. But obligated to my life, I had no choice but to end it.

I sent the call to voicemail before I met Elliot’s stare.

“I’m afraid I must go now.”

Elliot’s brows pulled close as brief sadness crossed his eyes.

A man like him should never be sad.

“Tonight was absolutely exceptional, Elliot. Thank you so much for this meal.” I shoved my hand into my pocket and pulled out my wallet when he stopped me.