teeth were chattering, but he lit up when he saw me and we kissed each other on both cheeks the way we do here in France. When I asked what he’d been up to for the last week, he said that he’d been waiting. ‘Where?’ I asked. ‘Right here,’ he answered. ‘Waiting for what?’ I asked. ‘For you,’ he answered. And from that day on, Victor and I were a couple.”
“Ooooh,” Lisa sighed. “How romantic!”
“Yeah, it was.” Juliette nodded. She smiled a little sadly and drank a sip of her coffee. “But unfortunately, there was someone who had other plans for me.”
“Your father, the baron,” Lisa said. “He didn’t want you to marry a poor inventor. Right?”
“Yes, in a sense that’s true, but he wasn’t the one who came up with the plan I’m talking about. You see, the Margarine family is an old, aristocratic family. Nobility. My father is a baron. My mother was a baroness and that makes me a baronette. At one time we also had money. All the way up until my great-great-great-greatgrandfather, the Count of Monte Crisco, was beheaded by Bloodbath the Executioner during the French Revolution over two hundred years ago. Unfortunately, the family fortune then went to his brother, Baron Leaufat Margarine. He was a drunken lout and a gambling addict who frittered the whole fortune away on Uno.”
“Uno?”
“Leaufat lost and lost, but then during a fateful round of Uno in a tavern in Toulouse, when he had been dealt all four of the Wild Draw 4 cards, he became convinced that his luck had finally changed. He bet everything that was left of the family fortune. Unfortunately, it turned out that one of the guys he was playing against, a sneaky swindler named Aigeaulde Cliché, also had four Wild Draw 4 cards . . .”
“But . . .”
“Leaufat lost and in his rage he accused Aigeaulde Cliché of cheating and challenged him to a duel at dawn. But by dawn, Leaufat was so drunk he could hardly stand up. And when Cliché skewered him with his rapier they say more brandy trickled out of his body than blood.”
“Ugh.”
“You can say that again. There was no money left and our family was only just barely able to hold on to Margarine Castle, which was mortgaged up to its chimneys. Since then we’ve pretty much just had the title of baron, but not really much in the way of worldly goods.”
“But if you’re so poor, why wouldn’t your dad let you marry a poor inventor?”
Juliette shook her head sadly. “One night my dad came to me and said that he had amazing news, that I had a suitor. And not just any old suitor, but a rich businessman. I was horrified and said that I already had a boyfriend. I mean, he knew that! Yeah, yeah, my dad said, but this suitor had offered to pay off all the debts on Margarine Castle and to restore my family to its former glory. Could my Proctor do all that? he asked. This suitor had come to ask for my hand and my father had already said yes, so the matter was decided. Oh, and by the way, his name was Claude Cliché, my father said, and looked rather alarmed when I screamed at the top of my lungs. You have to understand, my father was not actually a bad person, just a little naive. He must have been the only one in Paris who hadn’t heard of Claude Cliché and his gang of hippopotamuses.”
“Gang of hippopotamuses?”
“Cliché is a conniving thug who made himself rich by using his gang to threaten people into doing what he wanted. The hippopotamuses are not actual hippopotamuses, they come from a village in Provence called Innebrède. Almost everyone there is related to each other and they all look like hippopotamuses. The hippo potamuses are not very good at doing maths in their heads, but they’re very big and strong and they drive around in enormous black limousines. Their job is to copper people.”
“Copper people?”
“If you don’t agree to one of Claude Cliché’s business proposals, like selling your restaurant to him for a ridiculously low
“Ooooh,” Lisa sighed. “How romantic!”
“Yeah, it was.” Juliette nodded. She smiled a little sadly and drank a sip of her coffee. “But unfortunately, there was someone who had other plans for me.”
“Your father, the baron,” Lisa said. “He didn’t want you to marry a poor inventor. Right?”
“Yes, in a sense that’s true, but he wasn’t the one who came up with the plan I’m talking about. You see, the Margarine family is an old, aristocratic family. Nobility. My father is a baron. My mother was a baroness and that makes me a baronette. At one time we also had money. All the way up until my great-great-great-greatgrandfather, the Count of Monte Crisco, was beheaded by Bloodbath the Executioner during the French Revolution over two hundred years ago. Unfortunately, the family fortune then went to his brother, Baron Leaufat Margarine. He was a drunken lout and a gambling addict who frittered the whole fortune away on Uno.”
“Uno?”
“Leaufat lost and lost, but then during a fateful round of Uno in a tavern in Toulouse, when he had been dealt all four of the Wild Draw 4 cards, he became convinced that his luck had finally changed. He bet everything that was left of the family fortune. Unfortunately, it turned out that one of the guys he was playing against, a sneaky swindler named Aigeaulde Cliché, also had four Wild Draw 4 cards . . .”
“But . . .”
“Leaufat lost and in his rage he accused Aigeaulde Cliché of cheating and challenged him to a duel at dawn. But by dawn, Leaufat was so drunk he could hardly stand up. And when Cliché skewered him with his rapier they say more brandy trickled out of his body than blood.”
“Ugh.”
“You can say that again. There was no money left and our family was only just barely able to hold on to Margarine Castle, which was mortgaged up to its chimneys. Since then we’ve pretty much just had the title of baron, but not really much in the way of worldly goods.”
“But if you’re so poor, why wouldn’t your dad let you marry a poor inventor?”
Juliette shook her head sadly. “One night my dad came to me and said that he had amazing news, that I had a suitor. And not just any old suitor, but a rich businessman. I was horrified and said that I already had a boyfriend. I mean, he knew that! Yeah, yeah, my dad said, but this suitor had offered to pay off all the debts on Margarine Castle and to restore my family to its former glory. Could my Proctor do all that? he asked. This suitor had come to ask for my hand and my father had already said yes, so the matter was decided. Oh, and by the way, his name was Claude Cliché, my father said, and looked rather alarmed when I screamed at the top of my lungs. You have to understand, my father was not actually a bad person, just a little naive. He must have been the only one in Paris who hadn’t heard of Claude Cliché and his gang of hippopotamuses.”
“Gang of hippopotamuses?”
“Cliché is a conniving thug who made himself rich by using his gang to threaten people into doing what he wanted. The hippopotamuses are not actual hippopotamuses, they come from a village in Provence called Innebrède. Almost everyone there is related to each other and they all look like hippopotamuses. The hippo potamuses are not very good at doing maths in their heads, but they’re very big and strong and they drive around in enormous black limousines. Their job is to copper people.”
“Copper people?”
“If you don’t agree to one of Claude Cliché’s business proposals, like selling your restaurant to him for a ridiculously low
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