Diane Talbot is an American in Paris and desperately wants to stay that way. Instead of returning to Woollett, New York, she and her sister didn't get on the boat. Now, nearly a year later, their father's fiancĂ©e and her stepsonâat Daddy's behestâhave come to Paris to bring them home. When they surprise Diane in a compromising situation with French party boy Guillaume Allard, she improvises and claims they're engaged.
It's the perfect plan. As long as she can convince her family that she's getting married and has established herself in Paris, they can't take her home. The best part is that Diane won't really have to get marriedânot to the man her father wants or to Guillaume.
Handsome and charming Guillaume barely knows Diane. But she's fun, and he owes her a favor. He goes along with the fake engagement, but that's a decision he soon regrets.
Soon, this perfect solution is far trickier than anticipated, and their feelings for each other have grown so complicated that it can only be love. Ultimately, they're forced to face an impossible obstacle to their happily ever after: he wants a lifelong commitment, and she believes marriage is a trap best avoided.
Diane Talbot is an American in Paris and desperately wants to stay that way. Instead of returning to Woollett, New York, she and her sister didn't get on the boat. Now, nearly a year later, their father's fiancĂ©e and her stepsonâat Daddy's behestâhave come to Paris to bring them home. When they surprise Diane in a compromising situation with French party boy Guillaume Allard, she improvises and claims they're engaged.
It's the perfect plan. As long as she can convince her family that she's getting married and has established herself in Paris, they can't take her home. The best part is that Diane won't really have to get marriedânot to the man her father wants or to Guillaume.
Handsome and charming Guillaume barely knows Diane. But she's fun, and he owes her a favor. He goes along with the fake engagement, but that's a decision he soon regrets.
Soon, this perfect solution is far trickier than anticipated, and their feelings for each other have grown so complicated that it can only be love. Ultimately, they're forced to face an impossible obstacle to their happily ever after: he wants a lifelong commitment, and she believes marriage is a trap best avoided.
Paris, June 1901
The music swung in a wild crescendo to finish the song, and Diane Talbot, and everyone in the crowd around her, erupted in cheers. Sheâd been dancing on the outdoor floor of Moulin Rouge for nearly an hour. Her legs were shaky from so much kicking, and her heart thumped like a big drum in her chest. All around her, ruffles fluttered and skirts fell back into place. Legs, dressed in stockings with lace trim, settled onto the ground to wait for the next song. Menâsome in white ties and tails, others in heavy eye makeup and not much elseâcaught their breath. Across the crowd, Dianeâs sister, Catherine, whoâd been dancing as well, was weaving through the people to get to her.
âLetâs get some water. Iâm too thirsty to kick anymore.â Catherineâs light brown hair fell in wisps around her flushed face. The sisters linked arms and headed inside toward the bar, where a woman in a skimpy sequined dress was singing on the stage, and nearly every eye in the place was on her. She was like a rare, shiny bird. âGod, this place never fails, does it?â
âDo you mean Paris or the cabaret?â Diane flicked her feather boa at her sister.
âBoth, actually.â
âTwo waters, sâil vous plaĂźt,â Diane said to the bartender.
âIâm ready to go,â Catherine said as she slumped onto a freshly vacated barstool in front of them.
âDo you mean Paris or the cabaret?â
âBoth, actually.â
âStop it. We settled on three more months before arguing about it again.â
âYouâre the one who brought up Paris.â Catherineâs chandelier earrings swayed and sparkled with each shake of her head. The bartender set two glasses of water in front of them.
Diane rolled her eyes and took a drink of her water. After so much dancing, she couldnât say another word without something wet.
The debate about staying or going had become so regular for the sisters that theyâd had to agree to put off the discussion as well as the departure. Delaying the departure part was all that mattered to Diane; she didnât want to return to Woollett or her parentsâ house in the middle of nowhere. Well, maybe it wasnât exactly nowhere. But everywhere was nowhere compared to Paris, as far as Diane was concerned. She wanted to stay for as long as she could. The sisters had come over for what was supposed to be a season. On the day of their return, they ripped up their tickets and sent the maid home on the steamer alone. Daddy was furious and swift to close his wallet, as Diane expected he would. Granted, being cut off from their fatherâs money had been difficult. But she couldnât make herself care when she could come to the cabaret and dance whenever she wanted. In Paris. Paris!
Leaving made absolutely no sense to Diane. Her sister was the one who didnât get it. But theyâd agreed not to talk about it for three more months, so Diane let it go and focused on the part about the cabaret. She wasnât ready to leave there either. âCanât we hang around long enough for one of these French gentlemen to buy us dinner? Iâm hungry.â
âWe can find something in the kitchen at home. I have to work in the morning.â Catherine worked in the law office where Diane was no longer employed. It had been her first job, and she hadnât lasted long. They moved a few steps away from the bar to finish their water, and someone else in need of a drink quickly took the stool.
âYouâre no fun at all,â Diane pouted. She couldnât stay aloneânot in France or at Moulin Rouge. As she spoke, one such French gentleman sidled up to them, waiting for a turn at the bar. He was taller than everyone else around them and dressed in a black suit, white tie, and black top hat. There was a white rose pinned to his lapel. When their eyes caught, he nodded, smiled, and politely looked away.
âCan I just say one last thing about leaving Paris?â
Diane shrugged. âAs long as we note that this time Iâm not the one breaking the rule we agreed upon.â
âWe canât stay forever. We canât do this forever.â She waved her empty water glass around as if to suggest everything about the cabaret. âAnd planning our return is not only sensible but also empowering. We get to do it on our terms, rather than Daddyâs.â
âIâm just not ready to think about it, though,â Diane whined.
âSheâs right, you know,â the Frenchman said. He was facing them now, leaning an elbow on the bar like he was holding it up. And involving himself like he was a part of their conversation?
âExcusez-moi,â Diane said, dragging out the syllables with attitude.
âPardon, mademoiselles, but I overheard, and sheâs right.â The man, who looked perfectly comfortable inserting himself, tipped his head toward Catherine. âPlanning your departure from Paris will allow it to happen on your terms. As mademoiselle has said.â
âWell, no one asked you.â Diane narrowed her eyes. So typical. A man inserting his opinions. How original. Every man sheâd ever known well had been the same way. âBut my terms are not leaving Paris.â
âI thought that wasnât possible?â The man was regrettably dashing with blue eyes and golden blond hair; obviously the sort who relied on charm to cover up for his rudeness.
âDo you always feel the need to comment on topics that are none of your business?â
He looked between the two sisters, confidence and that specific French sort of snobbishness that she both loved and hated oozed from him. His face flushed and his mouth quirked with indignance. âWell, as a Parisian, I have to say the departure of every tourist is a victory. Bonsoir, mademoiselles.â
Dianeâs mouth fell open as he moved off to get the bartenderâs attention. He exchanged a few words with the barman and then nodded at her and Catherine as he walked off into the crowd.
âHow rude,â Diane said before he was out of earshot. Didnât he know you are supposed to ignore other peopleâs arguments?
âOh, stop, I think he liked you.â
Diane hadnât thought of that. Her face grew warmâthough definitely not because she liked the idea of him liking her. She was warm from dancing. âI doubt that.â
âDidnât you see the way he was looking at you? He didnât even seem to care that your hairâs a mess. He barely looked at me because he couldnât take his eyes off you.â
Maybe she should have asked him to buy her dinner instead of chasing him off. Then she thought better of it. âWell, I didnât like him.â
Diane finished her water and then set her and her sisterâs empty glasses among a few other dirty ones on the edge of the bar. Just as she was getting ready to relent and leave the cabaret, Catherine pointed across the room.
âHey. Thatâs Charlotte.â
âDeveraux? I canât believe it. Where?â
Catherine grabbed Dianeâs arm and pulled her through the crowd, calling after their housemate whom Diane still didnât see. Then there was Charlotte in her feathered hat on a manâs armâprobably her aristocrat friend she was crazy about.
Charlotte was a regular girl from the provinces who happened to be a wildly talented writer. Diane liked her because, as far as the Parisians sheâd encountered, being from America was as backwoods as being from anywhere outside of Paris. They called it backwoods at home, but here it was provincial. Even the word for uncultured was fancier in France.
âI thought that was you,â Catherine exclaimed. âDiane didnât believe me.â
âItâs not that I didnât believe her,â Diane said, sizing up the man on Charlotteâs arm. He was the one sending all the gifts and messengers to the house. He was handsome, she had to admit. âYou never come out! Iâm surprised to see you is all.â
âWeâve only just arrived. I was at a party in the seventh, and then we took the metro here.â Charlotte looked up at the man and continued, âCatherine and Diane Talbot, this is my friend Antoine de Larminet. Antoine, these are my housemates. Theyâre sisters.â
Diane smiled and held out her hand to Antoine, which he kissed. Then Charlotte stepped aside to introduce another person. âThis is Monsieur Guillaume Allard, who was hosting the party. A group of us came from his place.â
That was when Dianeâs eyes landed on the rude gentleman from the bar. For a second, she thought sheâd made a mistake, or that the interloper was once again interloping. But no. Charlotte ushered him forward.
âYou again,â Diane raised an eyebrow at Guillaume, who looked as surprised as she was to be reacquainting. He scowled, but the glimmer in his eyes was playful, like he was thrilled to be meeting her again.
âDiane and Catherine Talbot, enchantĂ©.â He kissed Catherine on the hand. When Diane held out hers, he leaned past it and air-kissed her on the cheek. A quick, dry brush of his soft mouth and the stubble along his jaw against her skin. And Diane, it turned out, wasnât mad about meeting him again either.
âWe were just discussing leaving and apparently met your friend Guillaume,â Catherine continued, unfazed by the coincidence. âIâm ready and sheâs not.â
âNow that Charlotte and her friends are here,â Diane said, recognizing her opportunity, âyou can take a cab home, and Iâll stay with them.â
âCanât you stay, Catherine?â Charlotte said.
âI almost feel like it, now that youâre here,â she said regretfully. âBut I have to work in the morning.â
âSo go home. Iâll be fine!â Diane assured her sister.
âIâll keep you company.â Guillaume stepped forward, as if his presence might be appreciated. His blue eyes caught Dianeâs, and something warm and pleasant stirred in her stomach. Probably because she was hungry.
He continued, charm unabated. âI need to make up for the poor first impression I fear I left.â
Dianeâs annoyance with this man faltered again; here was another opportunity. âIt will cost you dinner, monsieur.â
âGood, then itâs settled,â Catherine said. âIâll get out of here, and you can stay with them. Will you see me out?â
âOf course.â Diane turned to Charlotte then. âIâll meet you back here in a few minutes?â
âOkay.â
âWeâll get a table outside,â Guillaume said as the sisters walked away.
Diane groaned. âCan you believe that guy is Charlotteâs friend? Heâs probably a terrible snob.â
âSo why are you staying with them?â Catherine smiled wryly.
âTo visit with Charlotte, silly. She never comes dancing with us.â
Outside, the night air cooled Dianeâs balmy skin like drink of water. People mingled on the sidewalk and foot traffic flowed like a stream from one club to another. Montmartre was alive and filled with the energy of nightlife. A cab of revelers was emptying out just as they reached the street. Catherine waved to get the driverâs attention.
âCan you take me to 77 Rue de Fortuny?â
The driver obliged with a nod.
Before stepping into the carriage, Catherine turned to Diane. âIâll see you at home.â
âI wonât be long.â For a moment, Diane considered following her sister into the cab and going home to bed. But it wasnât even eleven yet, and all the pieces of an interesting evening were falling into place. First, the nosy and admittedly handsome stranger turned out to be Charlotteâs friend. And that Charlotte had turned up with an obviously monied group of friends. Diane just couldnât go home when things like this were happening. She smiled at Catherine. âI still canât believe you want to leave.â
âDo you mean Paris or Moulin Rouge, darling?â Catherine didnât wait for a response; the question a tease, anyway. She pulled the carriage door closed and smiled and waved goodbye to Diane through the grimy window.
With a flourish of her feather boa, Diane kicked her leg high into the air and swept it back down to land in a deep bow. Catherine laughed as the cab pulled off. When Diane turned back toward the club, the red windmill spun slowly against the dark sky and the night showed no signs of stopping. Diane, invigorated by the possibilities of it, hurried back inside to find Charlotte. Theyâd said they were going outside to look for a table, so Diane passed through the front of the house where the woman was now on a swing that had lowered down from above the stage. Her audience still watched from their tables.
All the curves and chambers and red reminded Diane of the diagram sheâd seen of the human heart. Moulin Rouge was kind of like the heart of Paris. Of course, there were the fancier places and the palaces and the new tower that everyone loved. But here, where eclecticism reigned and people from all walks of life came together to be part of this raucous, creative, burlesque experience, was the real Paris. The heart of everything that made the place so grand. This was why Diane couldnât fathom leaving and going back to dull, boring Woollett. Nothing in that whole town was red.
Outside, the giant elephant loomed over the dance floor, where people carried on in time to the music. Charlotteâs orange and purple feathered hat quivered over a table across room and headed that way. Around her, the crowd whirled and cheered along to the music. Diane, whoâd been to Moulin Rouge a few times, sashayed in time as she walked. When a man wearing lipstick and a lace bodice bumped into her, he smiled and took advantage, twirling her around and kissing her on the cheek before letting her go in a fit of giggles. Diane danced away, thinking her father would be furious if he knew where she was. Sheâd taken all sorts of dancing lessons when she was a little girl. But her father made her stop when she turned thirteen because, in his thundering words: he was raising a lady, not a dancer. Good thing he was back in America.
At the table, Guillaume rose and pulled out the seat next to him for Diane. Sheâd cooled off from her marathon of dancing, but her skin tingled with him so close to her again. Close enough to smell cigarette smoke and the perfume of his rose. He was a full head and shoulders taller than Diane, his clothes finely tailored. And heâd placed his hat on the table in front of him, revealing loose waves of sandy blond hair. When he looked at her and gestured for her to sit, she said quietly so no one else would hear, âYou donât have to make up for any previous rudenesses by being overly nice. It wonât work anyway.â
âMademoiselle, I am merely using my manners.â
âOh, so you have those in France.â
Guillaume laughed, which made Diane laugh too, unfortunately. She tried to hide it by meeting Charlotteâs eyes and smiling. âIâm so happy to run into you.â
âWere you and Catherine here for long?â Charlotte asked, returning the smile.
âWell over an hour. We were dancing almost the whole time. I must look like a disaster.â
âDonât be silly,â Guillaume said. âYouâre the most stunning woman here. Charlotte tells me youâre American?â
âI am. But weâve been here for months and have no plans to leave.â She said it pointedly to let him know he wasnât off the hook no matter how nice he tried to be now.
The server returned with drinks and asked if Diane wanted anything since sheâd only just joined them.
âNothing to drink, thank you. But have I missed dinner?â
âDinner is still being served inside, mademoiselle. Let me know if you want a table.â
âMaybe. Thank you.â She shot Guillaume a quick look, and he was watching her.
After the server had gone, Guillaume asked about America.
âIâm from a small place,â said Diane. âBut New York City isnât far.â
âIâve never been,â Guillaume said.
âThereâs not much reason to, not when you live here.â She said it dismissively, hoping heâd drop the subject. She didnât want to think about Woollett. She didnât want to explain what life was like there to someone like Guillaume. It simply made for dull conversation, and sheâd already told that story a hundred times. Not that Woollett was such a terrible place. Sheâd had a wonderful childhood, come from a loving and supportive home. Her parents were working-class people whoâd built their considerable wealth through hard work and smart business decisions. Their mother died young, and that was still a difficult reality for Diane and her sister to navigate. But by then Daddy could afford to keep maids and tutors who served as positive feminine role models for the girls as they grew up. He was a kind and reasonable man, when they were obeying him. And generous. Most young women from Woollett would never visit Paris or anywhere outside of the States. She and Catherine were so lucky that their father had allowed them to come. Lucky that he could be swayed, after all those years of French language tutoring, to let them immerse themselves with a season abroad.
One of Charlotteâs friends, whose name Diane had forgotten already, had gone to Manhattan last year and was talking about a show sheâd seen there. The thing about being a tourist was that everyone wanted to share the most distantly related stories about the place youâre from. Nothing reveals a personâs misconceptions about places like these exchanges. By now, Diane had spent more time in Paris than she had in Manhattan, so she didnât have much to add. The awkward part was that the woman was telling the story to connect with Diane. Though perhaps that sheâd tried at all was most important. Like never understanding weights and measurements, these were the everyday conundrums faced by an American in Paris, and so Diane had to tolerate it all if she wanted to continue as such.
As the conversation carried on, Dianeâs attention fell on Guillaume, who was seated right next to her and casually leaning her way. He looked like trouble. Very handsome. Everyone at the table laughed when he chimed in. She gathered that Guillaume was Antoineâs close friend. His elbow brushed hers as he played with his hat on the table. His hands were broad and looked capable enough inside his white gloves. If only he werenât so arrogant.
Speaking of arrogant, Diane had read about Charlotteâs aristocrat friend, Antoine, a time or two in the gossip columns, all of it pretty tame and only interesting enough to print because of his high society status. No matter who was speaking, Antoine didnât take his eyes off Charlotte. He was obviously smitten with her. Men were so much trouble, with their egos and their demands, but they were also so adorable. Diane had lamented this dilemma countless times.
Someone told a joke that Diane missed, and everyone at the table laughed. Then Guillaume turned and caught Diane staring at him. Flustered, her face warmed and she looked away. When she ventured a look back at him, he smiled and said, âLet me buy you dinner. Is anyone else hungry?â
âWeâll probably stay out here with the others,â Antoine said. âBut you two can go ahead.â
âAbsolutely.â Charlotte shrugged and smiled suggestively. What exactly she was suggesting wasnât so clear. Diane half-hoped Charlotte would save her from Guillaumeâs company, not encourage it. But she was hungry. So hungry that she had maybe⊠maybe been a little hard on him. Maybe. If he was willing to buy her dinner, she could give him a chance to redeem himself.
âOkay.â Why not?
Guillaume stood and held out a gloved hand to Diane. His thick arm led to a strong set of shoulders. Her stomach grumbled; she was starving now. She put her hand in his and rose from her seat. Then after a quick, temporary goodbye to Charlotte and her friends, Diane let Guillaume whisk her inside.
Thanks to Reedsy/Discovery for an ARC of this book. I was unfamiliar with the author but looking for a lighthearted romance. This fit the bill. It was a quick read and hard to put down. I truly enjoyed the style of storytelling, switching between POVs while staying in third-person and allowing the reader to experience the emotions of both Diane and Guillaume concurrently. And Guillaume is refreshingly sensitive and in touch with his feelings. Itâs a fake engagement story, so itâs clear Diane and Guillaume are going to fall in love while faking their relationship. Whatâs surprising is how dead-set against marriage Diane actually is, and how Guillaume reacts to this.
For good reason, Diane is afraid of giving up her independence because, letâs be honest, marriage was not exactly to a womanâs benefit in the early 1900s. Her father had arranged for her to marry his best friendâs son, and for a while, Diane was fine with that. She even thought she might be in love with him. The problem is, she always felt like she needed to conform to the expectations of her almost-fiancĂ© Alvin and the rest of society in their small town just north of NYC. She and her sister Catherine convinced their father to allow them to spend a season in Paris, but when it was time to go home, they decided to stay. Diane loves Paris and never wants to leave, but Catherine is ready to go home.
Diane is a free-spirited woman who is willing to try anything. She loves socializing and going out dancing. Because she and Catherine come from a wealthy family and were always given everything they wanted, itâs a rude awakening when Daddy cuts off funds when they donât come home. Both are forced to get jobs, but Diane has a particularly hard time adjusting. In a relatively short period of time, she gets fired from several jobs and largely relies on her sisterâs income from her âlong-termâ job to support the two of them. And then she meets Guillaume, who initially makes a very bad impression on her. She finds out heâs friends with the boyfriend of one of her roommate, so they get to know one another better.
Now, weâre treated to Guillaumeâs POV. Heâs a traditional yet forward-thinking Frenchman who has dated many women but also hopes to find someone special and get married. The more he gets to know Diane, the more he thinks she may be the one, but she keeps putting him offâeven though theyâre faking an engagement for the benefit of her family. Why are they faking an engagement? Because Daddy sent his fiancĂ©e Ada and her stepson Harry to bring Catherine and Diane home to America. Diane really doesnât like Ada but is compelled to spend time with her. I loved this description: âDiane had never existed anywhere she wanted to be less than sitting there across from Ada.â
Apparently, Ada is communicating with Daddy every night to let him know whatâs going on with the girls. After not very long, Ada tells them that Daddy will be arriving in a few days, and heâs bringing Alvin with him. Diane definitively broke off things with Alvin so sheâs frustrated when she finds out heâs coming. He is determined to win her back, but she lets him know in no uncertain terms that sheâs not going back. What makes it more complicated is that he was always her best friend. So, while she doesnât like that he came to convince her to marry him, sheâs also ecstatic to see him again. Guillaume picks up on this and doesnât respond well.
When Guillaume confides in his friend (mentioned earlier) how he feels about Diane and how she keeps calling theirs a fake engagement, his friend warns him that he may get his heart broken. When Guillaume sees Diane interacting with Alvin, he realizes his friend is right, so he separates himself from Diane, joining his family at their summer vacation spot at the beach. As they say, absence makes the heart grow stronger, and Diane quickly realizes she took him for granted. She doesnât know how to reach him, but begins sending him letters every day, knowing they probably wonât get to him. She makes excuses for why heâs unable to join her family for any events. âShe didnât want them to think her engagement might be in trouble. Even though it was both fake and very much in trouble.â Sheâs not ready to tell her family whatâs truly going on.
When Diane confesses to Catherine that the engagement was fake and he called it off, but now she thinks she might be falling in love with him, Catherine is quick to voice the problem. Dianeâs biggest impediment to happiness is obvious to her, and she tells her so in this conversation:
âDiane, I donât think youâre truly afraid of marriage. Or not just marriage, anyway. You, my dear sister, are afraid of commitment.â
âCommitment, in general?â
âCommitment, broadly, generally, universally. Definitely. Youâre afraid to make choices.â
Catherine continues, âYes, every decision is a trap. No matter what you choose, you have to give something up . But youâll never have anything if you donât choose something. Thatâs what life is. Choices. Paths taken and not. Itâs foolish to think you can avoid it and ever have a chance at happiness.â
Catherine also clarifies for Diane that she left home to avoid making a decision about marrying Alvin. And as much as she wants to stay in Paris, if her father insists she come home, sheâd probably feel relieved he decided for her. Diane is always talking about adventure, and Catherine reminds her that adventures can encompass many things, including falling in love and planning a life with someone. She then advises her to make a list of pros and cons, and when she does so, the choice becomes clear.
At first, I thought this was a straightforward story about a fake engagement that ends with an HEA. The âcomplicationsâ must refer to the entire debacle leading to the fake engagement, and the pretense itself, right? In truth, the biggest complication is Dianeâs inability to make a decision. Sheâs too fearful of what may happen with any choice she makes, and she has defined marriage as something it doesnât necessarily need to be. When she comes to terms with the fact that marriage is a legal binding of two people but not a requirement that those people interact in a particular way, she realizes that she gets to define it (along with whomever she marries), and this is a life-changing understanding. Now, falling in love and making a commitmentâto the right manâisnât nearly so scary anymore.