worry about. Who knew when she was going to show up on set. Perhaps she could ask Sophie if she could go on set after all in case Cynthia was there.
When she was about to whip out her phone to call Sophie, she noticed a store across the street. The sign was a mint green, with purple bubble letters forming the name Bébébé. She’d never heard of the store before.
When the cars on Avenue de l’Opéra came to a stop, she crossed the street. The window display featured a high-tech stroller and a minimalistic and modern transparent plastic crib. The store seemed to sell outrageously expensive products for babies. Could the store be the one Nicole Blake visited? ILILIL. BÉBÉBÉ. The syllables matched. A quiver of excitement shot through her as she pushed open the door.
“ Bonjour ,” a redheaded saleswoman greeted her brightly. “Welcome to Bébébé.”
“ Bonjour ,” Clémence replied.
A few patrons were walking around the store, all women. Two were noticeably expecting.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” the saleswoman asked.
Clémence looked around. There were bath tubs, baby bottles, and towel sets. She’d never heard of the store before, but then again, she wasn’t pregnant.
“Yes. I’m expecting.”
She had blurted out the lie without thinking, and she immediately regretted it. What if the saleswoman recognized her as the Damour heiress? She’d be in the gossip blogs again.
The saleswoman didn’t seem recognize Clémence, however. She seemed pleased to hear about the news.
“Really? How far along are you?”
“It’s pretty, uh, new,” Clémence answered. “Very new. And unexpected. But I’m pleased. I’m just, you know, browsing. How long has this store been here?”
“About four years. It has always done well, but ever since Prince George was photographed in one of our beanie hats, the brand has really taken off. We sell online as well.”
“I heard about this place because of Nicole Blake,” Clémence said. “She’d been in recently, hadn’t she?”
The saleswomen looked conflicted about answering at first. “She was. I suppose word gets around. It’s unfortunate what happened to her.”
“Yes. Terrible.”
“What a shame, because she was expecting too.”
Clémence stared at her. “Really? She was pregnant?”
“I assumed. I was the one who’d helped her, but I didn’t press her, of course. She wanted to see the products for girls, so maybe she was expecting a girl, or at least hoping for one. I can recognize a mother’s glow, and she definitely had it.”
“Wow.”
“Yes, which makes the tragedy even more tragic. I was a big fan.”
The saleswoman shook her head sadly.
“Me too,” Clémence said.
So that was what Nicole had over Zach. She’d been pregnant with his daughter, a child that he didn’t want.
Chapter 11
Clémence was tempted to buy some cute baby booties and a cashmere baby blanket from Bébébé, but she resisted since she wasn’t actually having a baby, and she didn’t want to freak Arthur out. They hadn’t even talked about marriage yet, and frankly she wasn’t sure she was even ready for the whole nine yards. She was quite in love with Arthur, but they’d only been going out for five months. There was no need to rush.
However, she was starting to get warm fuzzy feelings whenever she passed babies on the street and children in playgrounds. Their cute chubby cheeks, their dimpled fingers, their infectious laughter. Sometimes Clémence did have the urge to have a baby. Of course, she wasn’t married yet. Not that a woman needed to be married to have a child, but it would be nice.
Nicole Blake wasn’t married when she got pregnant. That is, if what the saleswoman said was true. Was the father Zach? And did he murder her because she was pregnant? Whether it was true or not, the whole situation was sad.
Rachel must’ve not known about Nicole’s pregnancy. If she did, she would’ve
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