Read Online A Summer in Paris by Cynthia Baxter - Free Book Online

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    Nina just stood in front of it for what seemed a very long time. Could this be the end already? she was thinking. Was this really the conclusion to a mission she had planned for ages, something she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about ever since she had first heard of the possibility of coming to Paris this summer? An overwhelming wave of disappointment floated over her as she thought, Have I dreamed about this moment for so long, only to have my little exploration end before it has even begun?
    At the same time she realized that she had been more than a little foolish. Did you really expect that Marcel du Lac, the man in Grandmother’s letters, would still be sitting in the same house he was living in more than fifty years ago? she asked herself crossly. Did you think he would be standing in the doorway, waiting for Anna Wentworth’s granddaughter to come strolling around the bend?
    Nina thought about turning around and going back home. After all, that would have been the sensible thing to do. To forget all about this silly plan, to admit that she had been thinking like some romantic dreamer ... But somehow, the idea of admitting total defeat was simply too much to bear. Suddenly, acting entirely on impulse, Nina found herself heading into the building.
    Inside, the lobby of this spanking new clinic was clean and efficient. It was decorated entirely in black and white, giving the impression that this was a no-nonsense place.
    Nina went up to the stylishly dressed receptionist sitting just inside the clinic’s front door. “Pardonnez-moi,” she said in her almost perfect French. “Excuse me. I am looking for someone who lived at Number seven rue des Fleurs. A man. An older man.”
    “Is he a patient here?” The receptionist did not seem very interested.
    “No, no. Let me explain.” Nina took a deep breath. It was harder communicating in French than she had ever expected—at least when she was trying to talk about something that was so important to her. “A long time ago, a man named Marcel du Lac lived at this address, right here where this building is....”
    The receptionist stared at her blankly.
    “Here. See for yourself.” Nina reached into her skirt pocket and drew out a letter. “See? Monsieur Marcel du Lac, Nombre sept rue des Fleurs.”
    “Qu’est-ce que c’est?” the woman asked, shaking her head in confusion. “What is this?”
    “Many years ago, a man lived here. He ... oh, never mind.”
    Suddenly, Nina’s mission seemed impossible. Her treasure hunt for the past—for her grandmother’s past—had met up with a dead end.
    “Thank you. Merci,” she said lamely.
    As she turned away and started toward the door, she was overcome with disappointment. Her dream of finding Marcel du Lac, a dream she had held on to for so long, was suddenly gone.
    She had just pushed open the glass door to leave when she heard someone cry, “Mademoiselle, attendez! Miss, wait!”
    Even though she was certain that she had simply been hearing things, Nina glanced over her shoulder. Hurrying toward her was a tall, slender woman wearing a white lab coat over an attractive deep blue dress. There was a stethoscope around her neck. The woman’s dark eyes were bright, and her cheeks were flushed.
    “Oui?” Nina said. “Yes?”
    “Mademoiselle, I heard you asking about a man who used to live at this address.”
    “Yes ...” Nina’s heart was pounding.
    “Maybe I can help you. You see, I am a doctor on staff here. I was a member of the board of directors of this clinic when we bought the rights to this land.”
    Nina’s eyes widened. “Do you remember the houses that were here before ... and the people who lived in them?”
    “Yes. At least I think I do. It was seven years ago. I was on the committee that talked to the people who owned the houses here. We helped them find new places to live before their homes were replaced by this new building.” The woman’s expression softened as she added,