“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Julien said as he kept pace.

“I was just hoping my grandmother would be ready to talk about Edouard and the Brasserie Moulin today.”

He smiled. “And you think your grandmother is a woman who can be rushed?”

“I’m delusional, I know.”

Julien laughed, and some of Liv’s frustration melted away. She gave him another smile, this time a real one.

“Here we are!” Grandma Edith announced from up ahead, waiting for Liv and Julien to catch up. She had stopped outside a tiny brasserie with a few empty tables outside, overlooking the edge of the Place d’Erlon. “I have read wonderful things about this place on Facebook.”

“Your grandmother is on Facebook?” Julien murmured.

“I had no idea she even knew how to email,” Liv replied.

Julien opened the door for Grandma Edith, who flashed him a flirtatious smile as she slipped inside. Liv rolled her eyes as she followed her in. She waited with Julien just inside the entryway as the older woman exchanged a few words with a waiter, who gestured outside and grabbed three menus.

Once they were seated and Grandma Edith had ordered a bottle of Bergeronneau-Marion champagne, she closed her menu with a definitive snap and stood up. “Well, if you two will excuse me, I just realized that I am very tired. I think I’ll go back to the hotel and take a nap.”

Liv stood, instantly worried about her grandmother. “I’ll come with you.”

“Nonsense.” Grandma Edith deposited several bills on the table. “The champagne is on me. Stay. Enjoy. I’ll see you when I wake up, Olivia.”

She walked away before Liv could say another word. Liv sank slowly back down into her seat just as the waiter reappeared with their bottle of champagne, expertly popped the cork, and poured two tulip glasses. He looked at Grandma Edith’s empty chair and then at Julien, who shrugged and said, “Elle est partie.” The waiter nodded and whisked her empty glass away before hurrying off.

“I’m sorry about that,” Liv said. “If you want to leave, too . . .”

“And leave you to drink an entire bottle of champagne by yourself?” Julien asked. “Besides, I love Bergeronneau-Marion. Your grandmother has good taste.”

Liv smiled. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

“I feel certain of it.” He raised an eyebrow and then his glass. “To your grandmother.”

“To my grandmother,” Liv grumbled, clinking glasses with Julien and then taking a long sip. The champagne was crisp and full, and its bubbles tickled her tongue. “May she one day learn to act like a normal human being.”

Julien laughed and then fell quiet. In the silence between them, with butterflies fluttering in her stomach again, Liv had the strangest feeling that she’d just been set up on a date. But that was ridiculous; he was married, and she wasn’t the kind of person who flirted with other people’s husbands, even when they were as attractive as Julien.

They were interrupted by the reappearance of their waiter, who filled their water glasses from a carafe and took their order: beef tartare with a green salad for Liv, and filet of beef for Julien.

“So, tell me about your wife,” Liv finally blurted out when the waiter vanished. She needed to remind herself that the butterflies in her stomach had no business there. “How did you meet?”

Julien looked confused, but he answered politely. “Well, Delphine and I were in school together years ago. We began to date when we were both fifteen.”

Liv forced a smile. “Did you know right away that you’d marry her someday?”

“Well, I thought she was very beautiful at first. But it was only once I got to know her that I knew I would fall in love with her.” He paused to take a sip of his champagne. “What about you? You are involved with someone? Your grandmother mentioned you divorced recently.”

“Of course she did,” Liv muttered. “I’m pretty sure the day I signed the papers qualified as one of my grandmother’s favorite ‘I told you so’ moments.”

Julien smiled. “Oh, I don’t think so. Of course, your grandmother, she loves to be right, oui? But she has mentioned many times how concerned she is about you.”

Liv groaned. “Great. So you must think I’m completely pathetic.”

“No, not at all! I think it must be very difficult when someone you believe in becomes someone you don’t recognize anymore.”

Liv half laughed. “So I see she’s gone into great detail about my failed marriage.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. She really hasn’t.” Julien turned a bit pink. “I just—I can imagine how hard that must have been on you.”

“Right, so, uh, I’m going to change the subject before I feel like even more of an idiot, okay?”

“Liv, I didn’t mean—”

She held up her hand to stop him. “Really, it’s fine. So, Julien, do you and Delphine have any kids?”

When Julien smiled again, his whole face lit up. “A daughter, Mathilde. She’s about to turn six. She is looking forward to the end of her école maternelle, which I think you call preschool? Prekindergarten? Next year, she will be with the bigger children in une école primaire, which of course feels impossible to me. The time goes by so quickly. Every day, she reminds me more of her mother.”