Frederick - Into the Courtyard

Continued from Agnes (or here) or both
As they approached the spiral stairway that wound down into the treetops Frederick noticed that some of the trees were beginning to infringe on the walkway. He made a mental note that some pruning would be necessary. Some of the trees were nearly as tall as the roof of the buildings now. It was the first time he had been on the upper balcony in several weeks and the rate of growth surprised him. He would have to speak with Franco and arrange a crew.

As Agnes descended the stairway she had to push branch ends out of her way, and a couple of times they swished back at Frederick. He had to keep his guard and his arms up to prevent getting slapped in the face. To help avoid the branches he moved in closer to the center pole. He really needed to spend some time tending to the courtyard. Agnes was wending her way down slowly and cautiously, not seeming too sure of her footing, she was judiciously clinging to the hand rails.

The bottom of the stairway landed in the midst of a small pond. When Agnes got to the bottom she stopped suddenly and he nearly ran her over. Frederick told her to follow the stepping stones to the right. The stones circled around the stairs and led to the open space of the courtyard. Frederick followed her across the stones and collected her at the edge of the pool.

“This is an absolutely amazing garden Frederick. You are responsible for all of this?”

“Thank you. It has been my pleasure to maintain this garden for a few years now. It was maintained by someone else long ago, but he has passed away. When I moved in it had fallen into disrepair and I made a pact with the owner of my building to let me take over it’s maintenance and development. As I said last night, landscaping is an avocation of mine and this space has been a perfect opportunity for that expression.”

“It is gorgeous; so lush and green, and so mature; like being in a park.”

“It is a surprisingly large space in the center of these buildings. There are many tricks of layering plantings to create depth, and so while it is a big space, it is not as large as it might appear.”

“Well, it is just lovely Frederick; it really is like a small park.”

“Thank you.”

Agnes seemed to falter as she walked, then stopped and turned to Frederick and said, “I am feeling a little dizzy and fuzzy. I think I am a bit overdone from the rich food and alcohol last night and the strong coffee this morning. Would it be all right if I sat down?”

“Of course. Let’s sit down on that bench and we can relax. I will tell you more and you can catch your breath.”

Frederick took her wrist and guided her to a small white iron love-seat style bench. As they settled into their seats, Frederick put his arm across the back of the bench so it was resting across her shoulders. He looked over at Agnes and saw her looking into his eyes, but his gaze seemed to embarrass her. She immediately turned her face down and away. She was a confusion of shy openness. He pulled at her shoulder and she leaned in against his body and buried her head into the crook of his neck. Tentatively, he tangled his fingers in her hair; toying with it, swirling, combing, petting and listened to her soft murmurs in response. She reached over and took his hand up off his knee and held it in hers. She held his fingers across the palm of one hand and rubbed her finger absentmindedly up and down along the back of his index finger. When she lifted her head back up she was smiling.

“I think I am feeling better now and I am really looking forward to a tour of this beautiful garden.”

They got up off of the bench; he took her wrist and guided her along a path. It led out to the middle of a open grassy area in nearly the center of the courtyard. He stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulder. He directed her attention and turned her slightly to the left.

“Over there is the stairway we just came down and the pond we walked across.”

The stairs were visible here and there as they looked up the three stories of the interior of the building but much of it was obscured by three mature trees; one on either side and another that stood between them and the stairway. Just down and to the right of the stairs was the pond they had walked across and further off to the right was the bench where they had rested.

With his hands on her shoulders and her neck, and at times her head, Frederick encouraged Agnes to turn this way and that way as he explained the major features of the foliage and landscaping of the space. He noticed as he spoke how responsive and attuned she was to his touch. At the slightest shift of his hands on her shoulders or move to her neck or head, he felt her muscles respond and she would shift her gaze and posture. He was pleased with the way she moved in response to his touch, guiding her this way or that as they walked. He felt an increasing warmth through her skin.

Suddenly there was a digital chirping sound. Frederick reached into his pocket and answered his phone. He listened, then said, “Yes,” listened more, and then, “Hold on.” He pulled the phone from his head.

“Agnes, I need to take this call, please excuse me a minute. Just relax and enjoy yourself. I will be right back.” He gave her a ‘hold on a moment’ gesture with his finger.

She looked concerned and started to say something but he turned and walked away. He walked off a few meters and stopped and continued the phone conversation. It was a routine business matter, but something that required a timely decision. Frederick listened, nodding his head absently several times, and then said, “Yes. Yes. Tell them we are absolutely committed to finalizing the arrangement. Set a meeting for the five of us at their offices for lunch, Monday. Thank you.” He clicked off the phone, put it back in his pocket and swiveled around to return to Agnes, but she was not there.


Where could she have gone? Frederick looked to the bench, then the pond, then further along the trail they had been following but could not see her anywhere. He walked back to the clearing and looked to the right and then to the left. In the distance, toward the far corner he saw her looking through the bushes, in a cautious but inquisitive way. He called out her name and headed quickly over to her. She had heard him call out and turned around toward him just as he reached out and grabbed hold of her arm. He pulled her away from the bushes she was investigating. He spoke as he hurriedly pulled her along, back to where they had been talking before the phone call.

“I am done with my call now. Let’s continue our tour back over here. I prefer you not go wandering around here on your own.”

“I was just looking at the beautiful flowers over there. It is a nice and sunny spot. The ground cover is spectacular; such brilliant colors.”

“Yes, yes, that is a lovely spot. I understand your curiosity but I do not want you wandering off again.”

With a look of concern on her face, Agnes nodded her head slowly, and looked down, “Yes, I am sorry.”

Frederick looked at her, trying to decide her state of mind, and in a stern voice he said, “It is not enough to be sorry, you need to be careful.”

He let that thought float between them and continued to watch her expression. Eventually she raised her head slightly, and spoke softly and said, “Yes sir.” He was satisfied that she truly understood that this was serious.

He took hold of her chin, lifted her head up and broke the silence. “That spot is lovely, I often eat a picnic lunch there. It is also a nice place to lay back on a blanket and have a nice sunny nap. The brightly colored flowers and their sweet scent can be intoxicating. Perhaps when we finish our walk around we can spread a blanket and have a small lunch.”

He gave her a quick steady smile, put his arm around her and resumed explaining the history and botany of the garden to her. As they meandered he explained that before these buildings were here, this had been an area for livestock and feed stores. And over the years as the neighborhood developed, buildings had been built out around the edges of the yard at street fronts. As the buildings along the streets were built, it left this sizable space “landlocked” inside and behind the buildings. Eventually the buildings completely encircled the yard area and over time it’s purpose changed. The neighborhood became more and more urban, losing it’s rural roots. As he understood it, the families of the building owners had encouraged and supported the people who lived in the buildings in developing this courtyard.

He looked at Agnes and saw that her attention was drifting. He realized that he might be going on a little too much. When they came back around to the open grassy area again Frederick asked if Agnes was hungry and she said she was a little.

Holding out his keys, Frederick said, “I have a couple things to do down here. I want you to go back up to the apartment and make us a light lunch; perhaps a sandwich, some cut up fruit, and a small bottle of wine. There is a basket in the shelves in the kitchen island.”

She seemed frozen by the request, but he could not read the expression any deeper.

“Is that something you can do for us?”

“I think I can, yes, but do you trust me in your apartment on my own? And, and . . . I am not sure what you might have that would make a good lunch.”

“I trust you on both counts Agnes. While I doubt you would go rummaging, you are welcome to see anything and everything in my apartment. And as far as the food goes, feel free to find anything you might enjoy eating and I am sure I will be happy with your choices.”

Agnes smiled at his reassurances, but still seemed to have some doubt, but said, “Okay. I will.”

Frederick stood watching her walk away, enjoying the way her shapely body moved. Even in what he imagined to be an uncomfortable situation she seemed to have an air of confidence and poise. She looked sexy. He continued to watch her as she climbed her way back up the spiral stairway and disappeared into the building.

Frederick was feeling elated by her company and in fact quite aroused, he was finding himself very tempted. He was very pleased with the way their friendship was developing, by her responsiveness to him and he was looking forward to getting much closer.

He shook himself out of his reverie and turned and walked back toward the far corner of the courtyard . . .

(Agnes's reaction)

(Agnes goes to make lunch)

Frederick - Friday morning

Continued from Agnes sleeps over . . .

As they sat on the bed drinking their coffee Frederick moved his hand under the comforter and placed it on the side of Agnes’s leg. Her body shivered as his hand pushed up into the hamstring muscle and then slowly back up toward her knee, applying a lifting pressure that dug into the hollow of the muscle, fingers digging into her hamstring. He repeated that movement again so that his fingertips worked even deeper into the muscle. He moved his hand up to the back of her knee and lifted her leg, turned it across her torso and twisted her to almost a sitting position. He marvelled at her wonderfully strong but lithe legs; trim, healthy, country girl legs.

He offered his hand and pulled her up into a sitting position at the edge of the bed. “Another cup of coffee?” She nodded. He took the cups to the kitchen, refilled them and brought one back to her.

“Go shower.”

She gave him a quizzical look and he repeated himself. “Go shower and I will put out something fresh you to wear. It will be in the bedroom. You will find any toiletries you might need in the bathroom cabinet. ”

While Agnes went in and turned on the water in the shower, Frederick went into one of the bedroom closets and picked out a simple soft cotton shift with 3/4 sleeves, medium short length. He held it up and guessed it would fit well and come to about mid thigh. He nodded his head, smiled, and laid it across the foot of the bed.

He heard the shower running and returned to the kitchen and began preparing something for breakfast. He chopped some nuts and dates, put them in a serving bowl and added raisins. He served up two bowls of cereal, and filled a small pitcher with soy milk. He then peeled and sectioned a couple oranges. He moved everything over to the dining table and set two places.


He moved over to the desk and sat down, checking his morning email. He sent off some instructions to his agents, arranging activities for that day that would effectively clear his calendar. He wanted to be sure he had the entire day to spend with Agnes. He knew he would have to take a few calls but they would be simple status updates and a couple of yes/no decisions he would need to make. He checked to be sure that his phone was plugged in and charging, and that everything was synchronizing.

Just then he heard the bedroom door creak and Agnes stood there on the threshold.

“How does this look?”

She stood there wearing the dress he had put out for her. It was a little longer that he thought it would be but was still well above her knee. She looked all squeaky clean without any make up and wet, flat hair. He was pleased with how the dress fit her, and how she looked.

He got up from his desk, walked across the room to her and gave her a big smile. He put his hand up, his index finger pointed down and twirled it slowly. She turned around to let him see how she looked and he said, “You look very nice, and it fits you quite well. Do you like it?”

She smiled back and nodded. “I think I . . . “ but he put his finger up to his lips, and said, “Shhhhhh.” He decided to test her a little and see how she responded to non-verbal signals.

He picked up a leather and wood hair tie from the kitchen counter and went around behind her. He lifted and pulled her damp hair together, combing it with his fingers. He twisted it into a loose ponytail and wrapped the hair tie to gather it at the base of her neck. Her wet hair fell half way down her back, dampening most of the back of the dress. He then came back around in front of her, tilting his head, raising his eyebrows, begging the question, is that what you were going to ask about? She started to say something but he put his finger to his lips again and she fell silent. She smiled, and put her palms together, held them up in front of herself and bowed slightly.

He took her by the wrist, led her over to the table. He put up his hand in a “stand still” gesture and picked up a length of light rope. He wrapped it twice around her waist and tied it loosely as a sort of belt or draw, "We may need this later." She looked down at the rope, pondering the rope for a moment and then shrugged her shoulders.

He pulled her chair out and seated her. He went and took his seat at the opposite end of the table, and made a gesture with his hands to indicate, help yourself. They ate in silence and he used this quiet time to observe her in a more relaxed natural environ, sitting in a quiet “home” setting and eating a very simple meal. She seemed lost in the moment, not performing for him or trying to impress, but simply being herself. Being stripped of her clothes, in a common ordinary shift dress, no make up, bare feet, she seemed new and fresh and pure.

After he finished eating he got up and went to the refrigerator and took out a water pitcher. He snapped his fingers twice and Agnes turned and looked at him. He held up the pitcher and a glass. She nodded yes, and he brought them each a full glass.

He sat and relaxed, drinking the ice cold water while Agnes finished eating her breakfast. He interrupted the silence momentarily and said, “When we finish breakfast I want to take you down and show you the courtyard we talked about last night.” He looked over at the clock, it was approaching 11:00.

Frederick got up from the table, walked around, picked up Agnes’s water glass and refilled it. He came back and collected Agnes and led her over to the couch where she had fallen asleep the night before. He motioned her to take a seat, put down the water glass, and moved a stack of magazines closer. With a raised hand gesture, he signalled her to remain seated. He turned and walked away, to go brush and shave and comb, and get himself ready for their outing.


In the bathroom he opened the cabinet and found her skirt and blouse and bra on hangers on the back of the cabinet door. He gathered them up, went into the bedroom and hung them in the closet where he had earlier retrieved the dress she was wearing. He also put a wide toothed comb in his pocket.

While he was in the closet he gathered up a couple of long light bandannas and put them around his neck, securing them in place with a simple wooden ring. He also took out a small hunting knife in a sheath with an attached sling that he put over his head and under one arm so it hung at his right side. He pulled his shirt out and over so it lay against his skin, out of sight. He found his lightweight huarache sandals at the foot of the bed, slipped them on and headed back out to the living room.

When he came back into the room he stopped by his desk and looked quickly for any messages. Finding none, he unplugged and pocketed his phone and went over to the sitting area. Agnes was seated on the couch, exactly where he had placed her, reading a magazine. She looked up and smiled as he walked across the room, and adjusted and settled herself as he sat down beside him. She turned to him and started to ask a question, but once again he put his finger to his lips.

He gestured for her to turn her back to him and as she did he removed the leather hair tie and brought out the comb. He spent a few minutes combing out her hair, parting it in the middle, smoothing it back into a new ponytail and reapplied the hair tie, tighter this time, close up to the base of her skull. She sat very still during the whole process but he could hear her making a soft deep humming sound as he worked her hair. When he finished, she turned back to him, smiled, and said, “Thank you very much.” He nodded his head to say, you are welcome, but again, with his finger, admonished her to silence.

As he looked at her he noticed her erect nipples pressing out against the soft material of the dress, and remembered that he had found her bra with her other clothes in the bathroom. He wondered with a wry smile if the arousal was the result of the cold morning air, or if it was in response to his attention and touching, and suspected the later. He looked back up and noticed she was noticing him noticing. He smiled back at her for a few moments, making no excuse or apology and then offered his hand to help her stand up. He led her over to the alcove, and pointed down at her sandals. She slipped them onto her feet and followed Frederick to the front door.

They went down the hallway and past the stairs they had come up the night before, and through a door at the end of the hall. The door opened onto a broad balcony that ringed the inner walls of the building. Looking down over the rail, down two floors was a lush, mature garden, so full of trees and bushes that you could not see the ground through the foliage. Frederick motioned Agnes to the right and they walked toward a spiral stairway that wound down into the treetops.

(Agnes's reaction)

(to be continued)

Frederick - Dinner

Continued from The Other Side of Agnes

"Would you like to join me for dinner?"

She did not respond immediately, but looked at his basket, then at her own, and finally said, “For dinner? Oh, I was planning to have dinner at home...”

“A baguette?” he said.

She told him the baguette was for breakfast and that she had planned to just eat out of the cupboard, a small dinner. He insisted that she needed something much more substantial, and suggested seafood. He immediately had a restaurant in mind, within walking distance. She was enthused, and before she could waver again he took her basket, dumped the contents into his. The cashier ran them through the register and offered to set everything aside for them to collect later.

He beckoned to her to come along, taking hold of her wrist again, noticing how compliant she felt. He nearly had to drag her along to keep pace. He was moving quickly to assure she wouldn't change her mind again. He had been very surprised, shocked actually by her abrupt departure from his apartment last week and wanted to be sure she did not have a chance to change her mind this time. When they stopped for a signal light, he gathered her in more, wrapping her arm around his. "Ah, that’s better. You just need some leadership.”

“I see.” she said, smiling. He spoke half under his breath, “I doubt you do.”

As they walked down the street, it was clear she was taken off balance by his resolve, and seemed to be weighing things in her mind. They did not speak the rest of the way to the restaurant. “Here we are.”

It was an impressive place he knew and his favorite for this kind of first impression. He had cultivated relationships with the maître de and most of the waiters and they knew he was fond of bringing girls here; the whole ambiance of the place was seductive. It had a formality and richness to it, but was also comforting in an at home sort of way. They were taken to a table and two glasses of red wine arrived before they had settled in their seats. He offered a toast, “To a balanced meal.” She repeated his words, with a hearty smile. He returned her smile. They settled into a relaxed comfort and he could tell she had something to say.

She offered an apology for leaving his apartment last week, citing advice from her father. She clearly had a respect and reverence for the counsel of older men. He had noticed that already in her responses to him, although not always positively. He took advantage of her serious reverence, and teased back and forth with her. Finally, she called the game, “Whatever you say, Frederick.” They'd scored about even he thought, but just barely, and he said mostly to himself, “Ah, the girl is trainable.” She asked him to repeat himself, but he busied himself with the wine list, ignoring her question, capping the final move, for this segment of the game.

After a time, he re-engaged her in a discussion, now exploring her feelings, missing friends and others left behind, and her motives for moving to Paris.

"I wanted to get away from the sense of myself that I was a misfit; that I wanted something unattainable.”

“Agnes, I know we don’t know one another well, but I can assure you that you are not a misfit here.”

“You really think so?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, that is nice to know.”

When the waiter offered menus, he held up his hand and said, "We will both have the salmon." The waiter turned to Agnes to get her confirmation but Frederick spoke again, "And instead of the potatoes we would have green beans." When the waiter looked back at Agnes again she just smiled and settled back in her chair. As the waiter left Frederick looked over at her, saw the smile and could tell she was performing some sort of assessment. He busied himself with dishing out the salad and the bread, and the general presentation of the food, and left her to her musing. When she asked a question, he would answer it, but did not take any bait, nor was he led into any conversations. He persisted in managing the meal, the waiter, giving the impression that the conversations had ended and it was time to enjoy the meal, no more.

Finally when the meal was nearly over, she spoke up and broke the silence. She was dying to know more about Frederick, who he was, what he did, and most interestingly, what he was, because he was definitely not like any man she had known before and she was captivated; but, she was having great difficulty reading him. When she asked what kind of work he did, he said finance, acquisitions, takeovers, those sorts of things. She said she didn't know much about finance and started to say something about her father's advice. He abruptly interrupted her and said, “I am sure your father guided you well, that is plain to see by how you have turned out. But you are a grown girl, and you need guidance in the here and now.”

He was surprised but pleased with the look on her face. He had snapped her out of her daddy's little girl patter, and stricken a chord with her. He had been baiting and teasing her all along and was now pretty sure that he had just set the hook. He grinned to himself, sat back and waited for the coffee and crème brûlée. When it arrived, he took his time; commenting on the smoothness and delicacy of the flavors. He could see she was enjoying the dessert but clearly was anxious to be done in this restaurant. Finally the waiter brought the check, which he paid and took her hand, lifted her out of her chair and helped her put on her light sweater.

Once outside, he slowly walked with her back to the supermarket, having placed her hand on his arm again, and adjusted his gait to her natural pace. When they arrived, they collected their parcel and he said, “I shall walk you home.” At that she stopped walking, and because very quiet and seemed distressed.

He stopped and turned towards her. “Agnes? Is something wrong?”

“Frederick, I don’t really want to go home.”

“Where do you want to go, Agnes?”

She remained silent.

“Where do you want to go, Agnes?”

“With you.”

He said nothing, but abruptly turned the corner and headed down a side street. He noticed that she was again animated and was actually humming a little tune under her breath. He smiled to himself and headed around another corner, into a darkish little alley. She slowed her pace slightly, pulled at his arm, and said, "Frederick, where are we going?"

In response, he turned into a doorway, pulled aside a curtain, and said, "I think we need a small after dinner drink. This is a favorite little bar of mine."

They worked their way past the bar and tables, to a small sitting area in the back corner, with low couches and tables. As they moved past people, several of them said hello to Frederick, and nearly all of them took particular notice of Agnes, some with muttered comments, and even a couple of low whistles. She moved even closer to Frederick and clung to his arm, seeking the comfort and protection of closeness. Frederick accepted her discomfort and moved his arm up around her shoulder, pulled her to him, and when they reached the sitting area, ushered her to a seat on one of the couches and took a seat for himself in a chair off to her left, at a 90 degree angle. He noticed her looking at the space on the couch next to herself, clearly surprised and disappointed he had not sat down next to her. He lit the candle on the table, and when the waitress arrived, ordered snifters of B & B. There was soft jazz music playing in the background, and Frederick felt in his element and was pleased that Agnes was slightly off balance. It gave him both an advantage in the conversation, and a dilemma to solve and salve.

He listened to the music, and watched Agnes look around at the interior of the bar; a bohemian hangout. It seemed to be an oddity to her, many things she was not familiar with and as he watched, he saw more of her naivete showing through. Clearly this was not the kind of place she had ever been. As she looked around and he watched her, the waitress arrived with the drinks. As she bent over the low table, the front of her peasant blouse hung low, offering Frederick a clear and full view of her ample breasts. She noticed him noticing and they exchanged smiles of familiarity. She lingered, allowing him more time to appreciate the view. When she stood up to leave, Frederick looked over to see that Agnes had been watching the interaction. Frederick picked up a snifter, handing it to Agnes and lifted his own in a toast. He dismissed her concern with an off handed comment, "Gretchen is an old friend."

Agnes said, "She doesn't look very old." Frederick smiled, and took a sip of his drink, letting her quip pass for the time being.

"How do you like this place?"

"It is interesting, it is not like any place I have ever seen before, but it is comfortable and relaxed."

"I hope you will become accustomed to it. I come here often. It is a wonderful place to unwind from a busy day, and let go of my tension."

Agnes smiled but did not comment.

"So, if you have never been to a place like this before, what kinds of places did you go to, or did you not drink before I tempted you?" he asked with a wry smile.

"On the occasions when we went out it was usually to a bistro, and we drank wine. Places such as this surely exist at home, but young girls do not typically go there."

As they were talking, Agnes noticed that Gretchen returned and placed a silver serving tray on the far corner of the low table. There was an elaborately carved wooden box on the tray and a glass appliance that looked something like a kerosene lamp, but was something she had never seen before. She flashed a quizzical look in Frederick's direction and he answered, "Water pipe, hashish."

"Did you order this Frederick?"

"No, it is something they bring to all the tables back in this sitting area, but it is not to my liking most times. I can have it removed if it bothers you? I am not interesting in having any of it."

She shook her head.

"So, Agnes, you said "we" go to bistros, do you mean your family, or you and your friends? Or, perhaps young men take you to these places?"

"Well, my friends and I mostly, what you might call a girls night out, and on some occasions I would go on a date with boys and we often ended up at one of the bistros."

"You dated a lot, did you?"

"I wouldn't say "a lot" but sometimes on a weekend a boy would ask me out. I was fairly popular, but certainly not a lot."

Frederick continued to ask her questions about her dating habits, the kind of men she would see and what kinds of activities she enjoyed. He got the impression that she mostly went out with boys she knew from school or from the neighborhood, that they were typically her age and athletes, and that most of her dates were dinner, movie, museums, sightseeing, or combinations of these activities. He discerned that she had never really had any serious relationships, not surprising given what she had said about her father keeping a close watch on her in concert with her obvious daddy's girl desire to follow his will. He suspected she was not a virgin, but that she was pretty naive sexually. She exhibited a good bit of embarrassment and discomfort with some of his more personal questions, but she was forthcoming with answers, wanting to please him, no matter the nature of the inquiry. Probably a habitual characteristic of the daddy's good little girl, transferred to this interaction with another older man, a father figure.

After having a second B & B, he could see she was becoming a bit tipsy, a combination of these drinks and the wine with dinner, and the late hour. He took hold of her hand, and said, "Sweetheart, the night is over. It is time to head home."

Agnes was indeed tired but had enjoyed her time in the bar . . . 

Frederick

Inspired by Stripping Agnes or Start here, Reeling in Agnes
He had been in Paris for two years now and was thoroughly content with his apartment in the Latin District, with it's small businesses, intermixed with apartments upstairs, and so many wonderful little shops on the street level. One shop he particularly favored was a small corner patisserie where he would have his morning coffee and read the papers. It had become his custom for the past few months, on Friday, Saturday and Sunday mornings. He was infatuated with the neighborhood and the wonderful mix of people, of all ages and backgrounds.

He had gotten to know the shopkeeper and the staff quite well, and had become a bit of a fixture, sitting back in the corner by himself each day, quiet, respectful, but also very curious about all of the people who would come and go. He would greet most people with a nod and gesture as they entered, and might exchange a word or two with those who he had become acquainted with, or perhaps strangers, those who caught his fancy. Admittedly the ones who caught his eye tended to be the younger girls, or the women out doing some shopping early in the day.

One Saturday he noticed an attractive young girl who came in, sat down and ordered a coffee and an almond croissant. She sat quietly a distance away, and seemed to be absorbed in herself and watching the traffic out the window. After watching her for a while he returned to his papers and forgot about her, until she got up to leave. He noticed her manner of dress, plain but attractive, perhaps even frugal. He guessed she must be a clerk in one of the shops in the area, or maybe even an au pair or house girl for some local family. He made note of her and watched her walk off down the street, smiling to himself. A very quiet and solitary girl, he liked that, he made a mental note to watch for her again.

Sure enough, on the following Saturday, late morning, there she was again. He sat down his paper, leaned on an elbow and studied her as she went about her coffee and croissant. She had a natural charm about her, delectable, and he was entertained by the pleasure she took in her meal. As she took her last sip of coffee and looked up, he gave her a big smile and said, "It is good?"

"Delicious," she replied, and added, "I only have one of these a week. I don't make a habit of it."

He gave her a slight nod and returned to his coffee. When he looked up again, she was leaving. He watched her leave, smiled to himself, she will be back next Saturday. He did not want to be too obvious and tip his hand so early on into the game.


Sure enough, the following Saturday there she was. As he was just getting settle and ordering his coffee, she walked in. He looked up and caught her eye. "Bonjour," she offered him, with a lovely smile.

"Bonjour mademoiselle," he returned. "Another croissant for you, today?" When she did not answer, he called out to the shopkeeper, "Two almond croissants, please; one black coffee and one coffee with milk." He paid for the food and ushered her towards a little table by the window. She followed his lead and sat down.

"What is your name?"

"Agnes."

"I am Frederick. And, you live in the neighbourhood?"

"Yes. But, I'm new to Paris. I love it here. The city is so exciting. There is so much to see and do."

He continued to smile at her, nodding in encouragement, saying nothing but spurring her on as she told him about her Parisian discoveries. When the food arrived, he continued to offer reassurance and made sure she had everything she needed. They sat and talked as they drank coffee and ate their croissants.  He continued to encourage her to talk about her new life in Paris.  As she was finishing her coffee and setting her plate aside, he suddenly stood up and said, "Come with me and I shall show you where I live. It is a lovely view of Paris from the balcony."

She stood up too, but seemed to be struck with indecision. Before she could say yes or no, he stepped around the table, took hold of her wrist and started to guide her out. She picked up her purse and followed him out the door. Just as he had hoped, his swift and decisive movement, and authority, had captured her attention, and she was with him now. He walked up the street, turned into his building, and pausing a moment to be sure she was still with him, ushered her toward the stairway to his apartment. As he followed her up the stairs, he made note of her trim ankles, the shape of her calves, and musculature of the backs of her thighs. When they reached his landing he led her to the balcony outside of his kitchen.

"There it is. The rooftops of Paris." he said, and smiled at her, reengaging with her, standing close, touching his hand to the back of her arm. As she looked out over the rooftops, he stared at her, drinking her in.

"Ohhhhhh, how beautiful. How fortunate you are to wake up to this every morning." She turned and looked at him, then again back out over the view, and then suddenly she was saying, "Thank you, Frederick. But, I must go. I have so many errands to do today."

He looked at her face, turned slightly away from him, and recognized that fear in her. She seemed confused and disturbed. He decided not to hold her there, but showed her down the stairs again and out to the street. He said, "I hope I will see you at the patisserie again soon." They said their goodbyes, and she turned and walked off. He watched her as she went up the street, back the way they had come.


Next weekend he waited for her at the patisserie but she did not come in. He wondered if she had been scared off by his actions. He had been quite abrupt in inviting her to his apartment, perhaps she had feared something about him in that situation. Perhaps he had read her wrong? He wondered, and reviewed his approach in his mind, thinking he might need to adjust his pace with her if there was another opportunity. After a while he returned to his papers and let Agnes drift out of his mind.


Thursday evening he was doing his shopping for dinner in the market when he turned a corner, there was Agnes standing at the cheese cooler. He stepped up behind her, leaned forward to her ear and said, "Are you going to tell me that you only eat Camembert cheese once a week, as well?"

She was startled and pulled away. But then she turned her head, saw who it was and said hello to him. She turned around to face him and smiled. He said, "Hello Agnes, I am very pleased to see you again, I was afraid I had lost you." She looked at him but when she looked into his eyes, she quickly lowered her head, and said, "I am sorry for the way I acted at your apartment, but I was uncomfortable for some reason. I am glad we are meeting again."

He looked into her basket and saw that it contained just a single baguette.  He had already selected a nice bottle of wine, a loaf of bread and various produce for a large salad. "Would you like to join me for dinner?"

She did not respond immediately, but looked at his basket, then at her own, and finally said, "For dinner?"