Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Why me?
Why him?
He is the grumpiest asshole in the family.
Every scowl he sends my way makes my heart turn in my chest.
Wait, what were we talking about?
Thayer.
In case of emergency.
Got it.
“Perfect. Listen,” I tell Nicolette. “When I was in America, I didn’t have a guard, and I was fine. I’m not sure what’s changed. If anything, I’m closer to you now than before.”
I don’t meet her eyes. My sister can see right through me, and I’ll bet Fabien can, too, which is almost worse, because the man has the power to literally wilt me with a stare.
“The difference is you’re in Paris now,” Fabien says as he holds Nicolette’s jacket up for her to slide into. I’m surprised to find my eyes misting with tears.
I want that.
I want someone to care about me the way Fabien cares about Nicolette. He might be a criminal, but the man knows how to take care of a woman. The gentleman mob boss, if ever there was one.
I swallow the knot in my throat that threatens to choke me and signal to the waitress.
“We’ll talk about this when we get back,” Nicolette says in such a tone I’m surprised she didn’t add young lady to the end. She reaches for my hand and squeezes it.
“Alright,” I agree. “You kids have fun in Italy. I can’t wait to hear all about it, and don’t forget to bring me back something!” I’ve never outgrown my childish need for souvenirs.
“Of course not,” Nicolette says with a wink. “Love you!”
The lump grows again. “I love you, too,” I say with a sigh.
I sit at the table after they’re gone.
I eat the last of the crême brûlée and sip the last of the wine. I watch the sun sink beneath the roof of the restaurant.
When I stand and finally stretch my limbs, evening has fully descended.
The streets of Paris are typically well lit, but like most old European cities, some sections still hearken to days gone by—brick buildings, cobblestoned streets, streetlamps that have stood for decades.
God, I love Paris. If I could marry Paris, we’d elope.
The tourist guides all say that Paris is safe for a single woman. Even the Eiffel Tower’s structure has been outfitted with hundreds of yellowish spotlights that not only highlight the landmark, but also provide visibility and safety for nighttime visitors. Here in France, we have trains and buses and rental cars at the ready, and policemen aren’t far away if we need them.
I’m safe, I tell myself as I step outside the restaurant and into the cooler evening air. Across the street, a rowdy crowd of young adults chats and laughs, one gesturing wildly as if he’s telling a story. A pang hits me in the chest.
Heh. I must be hormonal. I’m not usually this emotional all over the place like this. What’s going on with me?
Am I… lonely?
Me, world traveler and student—correction, wealthy world traveler and grad student—who lives in the swankiest apartment and eats the best food and wears truly fabulous clothes… is lacking in something?
Maybe rumors float through school about my affiliation with the Gerards. Maybe Parisians are just a close-knit sort of people that don’t easily take on new friendships. Or maybe I just haven’t given it enough time, but I’m… well, sort of friendless here.
I shove my hands in my pockets and decide to walk instead of taking a cab. It’s a lovely night, and there are lots of people out here… and my overprotective sister and brother-in-law are on a flight to Italy and can’t stop me.
The sound of my footsteps on the hard sidewalk click clacks down the streets as I leave behind the noise of the city and walk toward our little apartment. One of the reasons we got such a deal on this place was that it’s a good walk from our apartment to the other parts of the city where we find restaurants and shopping venues.
I pull out my phone on instinct and check the texts.
Nicolette:
Hey. Be safe, please. I know you’re not a kid but you’re my sister and the only one I’ve got!!
Cue a whole string of heart emojis.
Me:
I promise, I will not drink more than ten drinks at a time, will only smoke high-end pot, and have casual sex ONLY every other day, m’kay?
I can almost hear her sighing on the other end of the phone.
Nicolette:
Alright, sounds good. Love you, you big goof.
I smile and text her back.
Me:
Love you, too
I continue to walk, my head down, when a surprising brisk gust of air makes me shiver. I pull my jacket tighter around me and come to a sudden stop.
Wait.
There’s got to be some kind of a carnival or something happening this weekend, because the street looks different.
This is… unusual. Stalls are set up in various places, changing the appearance of landmarks. I’m all turned around. I look about me, trying to locate something I recognize, when I realize with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach…