He smiled at me—a triumphant smile, if I wasn’t mistaken—and turned to the officer. He said something in rapid, confident French, and the police officer responded in a low, grumbling voice. Gabe spoke again, and finally the officer shrugged, took my arm, and began guiding me away from the media horde.
“I told him you were Guillaume’s publicist and to bring you inside to find Poppy,” Gabe said as the officer pulled me away.
“Thank you,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Anytime!” Gabe gave me a cheerful little wave. “And hey, be careful in there.”
The officer guided me through the crowd and into the lobby of one of the buildings Guillaume was dangling between. He said something to one of the other officers inside, and in a moment yet another policeman appeared to escort me farther into the building. I found Poppy around the corner, waiting for me.
“What on earth is going on?” I asked.
Poppy sighed and glanced toward the ceiling. “Well, the good news is that he’s not violating any laws, so for once we don’t have to worry about him being arrested. Apparently in this city, you can hang upside down by your ankles thirteen stories above ground and no one minds.”
“Of course you can,” I muttered.
She nodded tersely. “The bad news is that he’s not being particularly responsive to the pompiers, and they can’t get him down without his help,” she said.
“Oh, no.”
“It gets worse,” Poppy said grimly. “He and some friends tied the ropes themselves. The police have secured the ends, but who knows how well he’s knotted on to the rope? Or how long it can hold his weight?”
“This is awful,” I said. I thought about it for a moment. “Have you tried to talk him down?”
Poppy nodded. “He won’t listen. He just keeps on singing.”
I hesitated. “Let me give it a shot,” I said.
“You think he’ll listen to you?”
“I think we sort of, um, bonded during that whole Eiffel Tower thing,” I said. “It’s worth a try.”
Poppy shrugged and led me to the elevator, which we took up to the thirteenth floor. When the doors opened, we stepped into a hall filled with police officers, firemen, and paramedics, all of whom appeared to be standing around, doing nothing but sipping coffee and smoking cigarettes. Had I not known that a man was dangling above the pavement outside the window, I would have mistaken this for a friendly hall party.
I shook my head, and Poppy led me past them and into a room at the end of the hall. Inside, several officers were gathered around the window, looking just as casual as the people in the hallway. It was as if they dealt with dangling rock stars every day. After a quick glance around the room, I could see the end of a thick length of rope tied to a bed pushed against the wall. I followed the rope to the window and looked outside. Suspended in midair, Guillaume was cheerfully belting out the lyrics to “City of Light.” I shook my head. This was insane.
I checked the rope and made sure it looked like it was securely tied. While Poppy conferred with one of the police officers, I leaned out the window, trying not to think about how dangerous this was for the man we were responsible for.
“Guillaume!” I called. I couldn’t resist looking down, and when I did, I felt sick to my stomach. Thirteen floors was a long way. Definitely far enough to worry about a splattered rock star on the pavement. In a city where most of the residential buildings topped out below ten floors, how had Guillaume managed to find two buildings beside each other whose height made this stunt so potentially deadly?
Guillaume turned his head slowly toward me. It seemed to take him a moment to focus, but when he realized who I was, a broad grin spread across his face. “Emma!” he exclaimed, as if I had simply surprised him in the recording studio as opposed to suspended in midair. “Hi! You’re here! Welcome! Join the fun!”
Below us, a murmur ran through the crowd as it became obvious that Guillaume had stopped singing and was now conversing with someone inside. For a moment I wondered what Gabe was thinking on the ground below, but just as quickly I banished the thought from my mind. Who cared what he was thinking? Why had that been the thought that popped into my panicked brain?
Guillaume kept grinning. I stared for a moment and sighed. “Guillaume,” I began wearily. “What on earth are you doing?”