Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61922 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“Oh, stop! Boy, you look a-maze-ing!” Clap, clap, clap. “Where’s the red carpet? I’m having a moment.”
Dramatic? Maybe, but effusive praise was much appreciated by Hollywood’s who’s who clientele. Semi-famous actors, directors, and models asked for me by name. I was well liked, damn it.
But it wasn’t enough. It was the adult version of being the last kid picked in gym class. Been there, done that…no thanks. Thirty-five-year-old me owed it to the painfully skinny, awkward gay boy who’d eaten lunch alone far too many times in the fifth grade. I needed to regroup and reevaluate my goals.
I’d wanted to be a stylist to the stars, but perhaps the cosmos was suggesting there was something else out there for me. Another path, another purpose.
Like…what, though?
I’d vented to my friends over mango margaritas and more chips and salsa than anyone should indulge in. Max told me to hang in there, Deacon told me to switch salons, and my brother-in-law, Milo, who was one shady motherfucker, said he knew a guy who could shake up the owner. Wow.
Of course, I ignored Milo. Jail wasn’t on my bucket list and sure, everyone claimed orange wasn’t their color, but oh, honey…every shade of orange did me dirty, and I wasn’t taking any chances. Besides, I liked the owner at The Lounge. If Lawrence didn’t feel the same about me or my future at his salon, I had to accept it and make do, or…move on.
Raine had suggested that a visit to England might do me good. I’d regretfully informed him that an impromptu getaway wasn’t in my budget. He’d sighed and dropped the topic.
But a week later, he’d had another idea. “Be me for a month in Paris.”
“Excuse-ay moi?”
“There’s a series of lectures in Paris about ancient Egypt, and Professor Creighton is scheduled to speak. He wanted to go early to do some research. I planned to fly back and forth, but Graham just surprised me with a trip to Bali. I can find someone else at the museum to take my place or…you could do it!”
“Love it…except, I don’t know anything about ancient Egypt,” I’d reminded him.
Raine hadn’t been bothered by the reality check. “Normally, that would be a concern, but your main job on this trip would be to make sure the professor gets to his train on time and that his socks match. You’d be a glorified companion. That’s all.”
“Paid escort to an old man? How did I get here so soon?” I’d lamented theatrically.
“Not that kind of escort, perv. And Professor C is only forty-four.”
“Oh.”
“The professor doesn’t like change, but I talk about you all the time and you met at our party, so he practically knows you already.”
“I don’t remember meeting a professor.”
“Oh, I thought I introduced you. Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s going to love you, and you’re going to love an all-expenses-paid trip to Paris!”
There was a generous stipend attached to the temporary position, too. Sweet deal.
But I’d still thought about the proposal long and hard. It wasn’t a matter of packing and catching the next flight. I had Liza to think of, and rent, and…a job. But Max’s cousin had agreed to sublet my apartment for a month, and feed my cat. And Lawrence had patted me on the back, congratulated me on seizing a fabulous opportunity, and said he looked forward to hearing about my adventures when I returned.
So…guess who was going to Paris? C’est moi!
Yep, I’d been memorizing useful phrases from Google Translate, and I was determined to be the best travel companion possible.
Deux cafés, si’l vous plait. Two coffees, please.
Où est la gare? Where is the train station?
Aide! Help!
Good start. However, I had no illusions that this would be a walk in the park. I’d never been to France, didn’t know the language, knew nothing about ancient Egypt, and my people never had issues with mismatched socks. This would be a challenge. But if anyone needed a reset, it was me.
I petted Liza as I scanned my overflowing suitcase. “I suppose I could do a teensy bit of editing.”
Max nodded his approval. “You can always buy something in Paris. And I do expect a trip treat. I’m hoping for a rhinestone-bejeweled Eiffel Tower shirt, please.”
“You shall have it.” I smiled affectionately. “I’m going to miss you, Maxy.”
“I’ll miss you too, honey. You’re going to text us, aren’t you? Liza will want updates. We want to hear all about the professor. I hope he’s a hunk,” Max said in a rush.
I snort-laughed. “I’m pretty sure he’s a smarty-pants geek, but even if he was a dreamboat, I would never flirt with Raine’s boss.”
“Then you’ll have to find a sexy Frenchman.”
This was my cue to give a saucy reply of the “Oh, hell yes” variety, but I didn’t have it in me. Raine was right. I was blue, and it wasn’t a good look. However, I had high hopes that a change of scenery and a solid month of eating my weight in croissants would clear away the cloud hanging over my head.