The Little Antique Shop Under the Eiffel Tower Read Online Free

lead. He worries, that’s all.” Lilou’s jewelry was spectacular but it sold for a pittance, and I couldn’t see her building it up to a level she could comfortably live on because work was a foreign word to her.
    With a flick of her long silky tresses, she rolled her eyes heavenward. “I have to start somewhere. Etsy and eBay are great stepping-stones for me. Sure I’m not at the 7th arrondissement stage…” She pulled a face, teasing me about the location, and exclusivity, of my shop. “But it’s a start. Papa should focus on his own life, and so should you for that matter. Don’t let him force you to be my keeper.”
    I smirked. “Good idea,” I said, voice heavy with sarcasm. “Here’s the phone.” I lifted the receiver. “Give him a call and explain that to him.”
    She had the grace to color, the apples of her cheeks pinking up, only making her more beautiful. “Well…maybe we can leave it a few more weeks, Anouk? Just until I really build up my sales.” Papa was set in his ways, and neither of us wanted to answer to him, gruff as he was. “Forget it for now,” she said. “I saw the most magnificent sunset in Marseille. I’m going to create a whole range of orange jewelry in ode to it. Let’s go to lunch and I can tell you everything. I’ve left Claude at your apartment so we don’t have to rush.” She leaned over the counter to grab my handbag, and in one swift movement took my elbow and barreled me out of the door. I halted and fumbled for my keys.
    “Claude’s at my apartment?”
    “Yeah, you’ve made a very valid point, and I was thinking of it, even before your spiel. You’re totally right – I can’t support myself with what little Papa gives me, and what little income I make with my jewelry, so I’ve given up my apartment in favor of staying with you – to save money on rent. I knew you’d be supportive of my decision…” She frowned at my expression of abject horror.
    “Lilou…”
    “What? You said yourself I had to figure out my expenses and set some long-term goals. That’s exactly what I’ve done! I’ll miss my apartment but sacrifices have to be made. Living with you will be one
huge
sacrifice but I’m planning for the future – just like you wanted. And how happy will Papa and Maman be knowing you’re keeping a close eye on little old me?”
    I took a steadying breath, disarmed by her cunning, clever ways. Living with her would be a lesson in patience, tolerance, and cleanliness, to say the least. “It’s just…I like my own space, as you well know.”
    She swung to face me. “Claude and I will use it as a landing base, that’s all. Don’t worry, you’ll still have your freedom.”
    With the shop locked and the sign flicked to Closed, we let the debate drop and meandered away. In France we were accustomed to having long lunches, and sometimes ducking home for a nap before recommencing work. It was a way to relax and recharge. There was no race to get to the weekend because each day was a good day, with its own rhythms.
    “Hang on, who’s Claude?” I asked.
    “My boyfriend!” She zoomed on, pinning my arm so I had no choice but to keep pace.
    We zigzagged through throngs of people who were enjoying the spectacle of a lively Parisian spring day.
    “What? What happened to Rainier?” I asked, trying to catch my breath as she propelled me forward.
    Before Lilou had vanished three weeks ago, she’d been smitten with a gorgeous Frenchman whose broody nature intrigued her. Rainier was a wine-maker from Haut-Médoc who was taking a year to explore his native country to broaden his horizons, sipping Bordeaux along the way – an oenophile if I ever met one, as he supped, and swished, lamenting about the complexities of wine like he was reciting poetry. I thought he was perfect for her, mysterious enough to keep her guessing, and therefore interested.
    “Oh,” she hesitated, no doubt trying to formulate a lie to soften the fact she’d ditched him like