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Authors: Ruthe Ogilvie
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I get enough money I'm going to use that common-law copyright to fight him in court, and the whole world will know that he stole 'The Ginger Jar' from me." She threw her hands up in a gesture of confusion. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'm just being paranoid."
Jenny looked dubious. "Maybe not. What if it was Greg, and he tries again?"
Hildy put her head in her hands. "Oh, Jenny," she moaned, "what have I gotten you into? I thought I was getting you away from danger, and I've only succeeded in getting you into more."
Jenny spoke to Hildy in a soothing tone. "We're okay," she said. "I wouldn't have missed this trip to Paris for anything, danger and all." A sudden thought struck her. "Hildy! What about our luggage?"
"The gendarme said the airport attendants will deliver it to our hotel," Hildy said. "That is, if there's anything left of it."
The taxi driver pulled up to the front entrance of their hotel, and the bellhop came running out. He looked puzzled when he saw no luggage. Hildy explained that they had just arrived from the States on the plane that had the bomb, and if there was anything left of their luggage it would be delivered later.
They made their way into the plush lobby of the brand new La Grande Veue Hotel facing the Seine River in the heart of Paris. As they entered, the beauty and elegance of the Louis The Fourteenth decor almost made them forget the horror of what they had just experienced.
Hildy approached the desk and spoke to the hotel clerk in French. "Je suis Hildy Swenson. Avez-vous une chambre pres de la mienne?" she asked him.
He pressed a few keys on the computer. "Oui, Mademoiselle. Nous en evons une guste a cote."
"We're in luck," Hildy told Jenny. "They have a nice room next to mine. Both rooms overlook the Seine."
They completed the registration forms and headed for the elevator.
"We'd better freshen up," Hildy said as they ascended. "We have shopping to do. We don't have any clothes, remember? I'll call Peter and tell him what happened." She managed a wry laugh. "I only hope he doesn't refuse to film my musical. He may be afraid to work with me."
As Hildy entered her room the phone was ringing. She threw her purse on the bed and hurried to answer it.
It was Peter, sounding extremely concerned. "Are you all right?" he asked her. "I just heard what happened!"
"I'm fine, Peter. But we don't have any luggage. Jenny and I are about to go shopping so we'll have something to wear."
"Jenny?" Peter asked, puzzled.
Hildy hastened to explain. "It's a long story, Peter. Jenny is the friend I was staying with in California. She needed to get away, so she came to Paris with me."
"Well, I was going to suggest that we have dinner together. We have things to discuss."
Hildy winced. We certainly do, she thought, but he hasn't a clue of what I'm about to tell him.
"What time did you have in mind?" she asked. "I mean, there's a slight chance that our luggage was already off the plane and in the building when the bomb went off. If it was, it will be delivered here at the hotel and we won't have to go shop - oh! -someone's knocking."
She put the phone down on the night stand and opened the door. The bellhop stood there grinning with her luggage in tow. "Oh!" Hildy gasped. "Merci! Merci! Placez la valise ici, s'il vous plait!" She gestured toward the luggage rack. "What about my friend?" she asked, slipping into her own language.
The bellhop grinned. "I just delivered her luggage," he answered her in English.
"Merci!" She gave him a generous tip and picked up the phone again. "Peter, our luggage just arrived! Intact! We won't have to go shopping after all. What time shall we meet for dinner?"
"How does eight o'clock sound? That will give you time to get some rest. Oh - - be sure to bring your friend. I'd like to meet her."
"Where did you have in mind?" Hildy asked. "I mean - what shall we wear?"
"I'd say something on the dressy side would be perfect. Since it's your first night in Paris I'm taking
Jenny looked dubious. "Maybe not. What if it was Greg, and he tries again?"
Hildy put her head in her hands. "Oh, Jenny," she moaned, "what have I gotten you into? I thought I was getting you away from danger, and I've only succeeded in getting you into more."
Jenny spoke to Hildy in a soothing tone. "We're okay," she said. "I wouldn't have missed this trip to Paris for anything, danger and all." A sudden thought struck her. "Hildy! What about our luggage?"
"The gendarme said the airport attendants will deliver it to our hotel," Hildy said. "That is, if there's anything left of it."
The taxi driver pulled up to the front entrance of their hotel, and the bellhop came running out. He looked puzzled when he saw no luggage. Hildy explained that they had just arrived from the States on the plane that had the bomb, and if there was anything left of their luggage it would be delivered later.
They made their way into the plush lobby of the brand new La Grande Veue Hotel facing the Seine River in the heart of Paris. As they entered, the beauty and elegance of the Louis The Fourteenth decor almost made them forget the horror of what they had just experienced.
Hildy approached the desk and spoke to the hotel clerk in French. "Je suis Hildy Swenson. Avez-vous une chambre pres de la mienne?" she asked him.
He pressed a few keys on the computer. "Oui, Mademoiselle. Nous en evons une guste a cote."
"We're in luck," Hildy told Jenny. "They have a nice room next to mine. Both rooms overlook the Seine."
They completed the registration forms and headed for the elevator.
"We'd better freshen up," Hildy said as they ascended. "We have shopping to do. We don't have any clothes, remember? I'll call Peter and tell him what happened." She managed a wry laugh. "I only hope he doesn't refuse to film my musical. He may be afraid to work with me."
As Hildy entered her room the phone was ringing. She threw her purse on the bed and hurried to answer it.
It was Peter, sounding extremely concerned. "Are you all right?" he asked her. "I just heard what happened!"
"I'm fine, Peter. But we don't have any luggage. Jenny and I are about to go shopping so we'll have something to wear."
"Jenny?" Peter asked, puzzled.
Hildy hastened to explain. "It's a long story, Peter. Jenny is the friend I was staying with in California. She needed to get away, so she came to Paris with me."
"Well, I was going to suggest that we have dinner together. We have things to discuss."
Hildy winced. We certainly do, she thought, but he hasn't a clue of what I'm about to tell him.
"What time did you have in mind?" she asked. "I mean, there's a slight chance that our luggage was already off the plane and in the building when the bomb went off. If it was, it will be delivered here at the hotel and we won't have to go shop - oh! -someone's knocking."
She put the phone down on the night stand and opened the door. The bellhop stood there grinning with her luggage in tow. "Oh!" Hildy gasped. "Merci! Merci! Placez la valise ici, s'il vous plait!" She gestured toward the luggage rack. "What about my friend?" she asked, slipping into her own language.
The bellhop grinned. "I just delivered her luggage," he answered her in English.
"Merci!" She gave him a generous tip and picked up the phone again. "Peter, our luggage just arrived! Intact! We won't have to go shopping after all. What time shall we meet for dinner?"
"How does eight o'clock sound? That will give you time to get some rest. Oh - - be sure to bring your friend. I'd like to meet her."
"Where did you have in mind?" Hildy asked. "I mean - what shall we wear?"
"I'd say something on the dressy side would be perfect. Since it's your first night in Paris I'm taking
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