Claire's POV
Philippe saw us coming through the window.
I know this because by the time we reached the door of the eight-table restaurant on the Quai de la Tournelle he was already moving toward it with the unhurried satisfaction of someone whose faith in the afternoon had just been confirmed.
He opened the door. Looked at Alexandre. At me. At Theo, who was holding my hand and examining the restaurant exterior with the professional thoroughness of someone conducting an assessment. At Gerald, tucked under Theo's other arm, facing outward.
Philippe looked at Gerald for a moment.
Then he stepped back and held the door wide open.
"The whole family," he said, with the tone of someone receiving information that improved their Friday considerably.
"Philippe," Alexandre said, "this is Theo.
