Infatuation

At the other end of the apartment, in his room Andrei Rosier, Nicole's house agent sat slumped and rather gloomy in an armchair, smoking a cigarette. After having contacted Center through his tiny radio-transmitter, just a few moments earlier - he had to report the astounding fresh developments.
Hardly nine months had elapsed, since he met Nicole in Paris. A meeting he would not forget, never! Although he was prepared for it, was warned, would be a better definition; he was totally overwhelmed by her exotic beauty. Thus he did not have to play the role of an infatuated middle aged man, with the enchanting young woman. But did it naturally in the most effective way, as he was making a pass at her; down at the the Opera Metro station, at the corner where he was told to expect her. He followed her outside as planned, while she tried "her best" to ignore him. Just as they were both instructed to do. Then in "a second thought" she agreed to have lunch with him, right on the spot. It was noon time in any case, and she was supposed to be a lone heiress "in distress", at the Capital of lights craving for a friendly soul.
In the short conversation they had, she learned how experienced and capable he was and offered to hire him as her valet, chef, secretary and body guard - all in one position, which obliged him to accompany her twenty four hours a day. As he himself was "a lone and troubled soul", without a family or any sort of other human connections; he consented to all her demands, with the hope of winning first of all her faith in him and with the passing time - her heart too. Although it was all prearranged and both of them learned every little detail before meeting each other. Nevertheless, he was elated and excited, just like an inexperienced young man. He was on the brink of loosing his head completely, from the second he saw and understood who she was, having read the sign she made. During lunch that they had together, in which he did stammer like a schoolboy in her astounding presence - up to the moment they parted.
On his way back to his hotel to check out, he was still dizzy with excitement. He had his share in life, he courted and loved beautiful women quite a bunch of them. But such an exquisite beauty, with such a charismatic personality, such wit as he learned her to have during their conversation - he never met before.
Incredible! Simply incredible! He admitted to himself, riding the Metro on his way to his hotel. As he realized that he was simply infatuated, he became rather confused and terribly frustrated. It was a fact he could not ignore, a fact that has overpowered him; and above all, contradicted his instructions. He had to grind his teeth, fight ceaselessly the terrible urge to pour his heart before her, to confess to her his true feelings - from the moment they parted up to their next meeting. What a trial, what an ordeal it was, at his age with his experience; and it was not over yet. How was he going to cope with it from now on, he did not know, but he knew that he shall never give up the hope of winning her heart.
He left the cheap hotel in Montmartre where he stayed six long months in advance before Nicole's arrival, in order to learn that magnificent Capital of his native country by heart. Lyon was his native town and there he spent his childhood and adolescent years, up to the Spanish Civil War. At the age of eighteen he joined the Republicans, was wounded twice and survived the war and the treacherous purges after it - quite miraculously. That's how it all began. He owed his life to them, his comrades perished at the front lines, or were executed as traitors. The very few including himself, returned to their native countries. Although he was already disillusioned at a rather young age, he had to serve them! He had no other alternative. Due to his impressive physical built, and because of his poor education, he was used mostly as an assassin. He was on the verge of resigning, which usually meant being disposed of... But as his course of life coincided with Nicole's graduation and her stay in Paris; he survived a second time, to keep on the career he was fed up with - up to the moment Nicole entered his life.
On that same afternoon in which he met her, he checked in her five star Hotel. The room he received was on the same floor of her suite. He lodged full-board on her account, had his first pay in advance; and during the next month followed her everywhere she chose to go, at a certain distance; acting as her body guard and making sure she is not followed by any possible foes or nagging young men. That month brought him back to his wits. He got hold of himself again, by reaching the equilibrium he so much needed. He taught himself with much mental efforts to admire her secretly in his heart, to cherish on his secret hopes but at the same time, to adhere to his duties with the same vigilance as ever. Just as he was supposed to act, and was expected to show no feelings as a pro - as an efficient KGB agent which he indeed was.
They parted for Montreal after one sole month of working thus together, right to that vast apartment where he served her in addition as a valet and chef with the utmost loyalty. He had nothing to with the Gordins' of course, which was the least Nicole could do for secrecy and seclusion among her net members.
With Nick's arrival he was dispensable once again, Nicole could send him back to Moscow, if he would act stupidly, if he would show his true feelings. The envy, the frustration he harbored seeing her swept away in Nick's arms. He did not have to probe his imagination to know what they were doing on that very moment, in her bedroom... He could listen to them if he wished to, the apartment was bugged; he was instructed to do it and did it. But frustrated as he was, he preferred to give it up at that moment. Desperate, hurt like he never had been hurt ever before, he sat on in utter gloom, holding the cigarette butt between his teeth till it almost scorched his lips. He was the one, who met her before, but he did not touch her, he was the one who just dreamed of it; and now even his dreams were shattered into meaningless fragments!
Tearing the forgotten earphones off his head, he rose to his feet took his overcoat and sneaked outside; without returning the Radio-Transmitter to its cache. He had to mingle in the company of strangers in some lighted joint. He needed the tumult and din to make him forget. He had to drown his frustration in liqueur, otherwise he would surely crack up!