Page 3 of One Night in Paris
Still, my ability to carry on a conversation with this hot guy in the middle of a French bar wasn’t proving very successful right then. Perhaps I needed a moment to regroup. Lifting the beers in my hand, I saluted him, said, “Thanks again,” and then turned to walk away.
Immediately, my face burst into flames. I could already hear what my friends were going to say before I even reached the table. We’d seen a lot of hot guys on our trip, most of them French, some of them tourists like us, but this guy? Wowzah, he took the cake.
“OMG, Harp!” Kylee exclaimed the moment I reached the table. Her hand encircled my arm, and she practically pulled me down into my chair. “Who was that fine gentleman?”
“Uh, that was Logan.” Shrugging my shoulders, I handed one of the beers to Desiree and kept the other for myself. Kylee and Charlotte were still nursing the glasses of wine they’d gotten a little while ago, before the bar got so busy. Or rather, before the bartender’s friends showed up.
“Logan is smokin’!” Charlotte giggled like what she’d said was an actual rhyme. Close but not quite. “Did you get his number?”
“Yes, I did.” I kept my face perfectly straight as I cracked open my beer. “I memorized it and later I’ll put it in my phone you never saw me pull out.”
Rolling her eyes, Charlotte said, “Well, I didn’t think you did, but you should have.” She turned toward the bar, which was behind me now. “He’s still standing over there. It’s not too late.”
“No! Come on, girls. This is our night to blow off some steam. We’ve got a lot more touristy things to do in a short amount of time before we head home. Let’s just forget about Larry and enjoy ourselves.” Taking a swig of my beer, I hoped that my intentional name slip-up would fool them, but these girls knew me too well.
“That guy is not a Larry.” Desiree batted her eyelashes as she looked longingly over my shoulder at where I could only assume Logan was still standing. “I’ve met a few Larry’s in my day and none of them looked like that.”
Both Desiree and Charlotte burst out laughing, but Kylee only shook her head. “Fine. Blow your chances with the hot French guy, but you’ll regret it later.” She took another sip of her drink while I pondered her words.
She might be right. He was incredibly sexy, and I looked amazing tonight. This dress had been a sweet find at one of the shops on Les Champs Elysees. Considering I had absolutely no money and had pinched my pennies for over a year to be able to afford to take this girls’ trip with my friends, I probably shouldn’t have bought it. But who could possibly pass up a Gaultier for eighty percent off?
“Did you even tell him your name?” Kylee wanted to know while the other two girls had moved on to discussing another guy who was sitting at a table nearby.
“Yeah, but that’s it. What am I going to tell him? Hi, I’m a waitress from the Bronx who sold blood plasma for months to be able to afford to sleep on my friends’ couch in their hotel room. Nice to meet you.” I rolled my eyes and took a long swig of beer.
Laughing, Kylee took mercy on me. “No, sweetie. We’re in Paris, and you’re wearing a designer gown. You tell him whatever the fuck you want to.” She raised and lowered her eyebrows at me.
Recognizing the mischievous look in her eyes, I couldn’t help but grin at her. “What, like I’m a CEO of a… lingerie company or something?”
“Why the fuck not?” Kylee snorted and finished her wine. She would have to get her own refill. I wasn’t braving the bar again.
“You have a filthy mouth when you’re drinking,” I muttered.
Her grin widening, she said, “I have a filthy mouth when I’m fucking sober.”
“True, true!” Chuckling, I took another drink and fought the urge to look over my shoulder. “I don’t know. Just seems… pointless.”
“Hot sex with a French guy seems pointless?” Kylee’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows lifted above her blue eyes. “Hardly.”
“He’s not French.” Turning to glance at him, I saw that he was speaking to another guy at the bar and turned back around. “But he is hot.”
“So why not? How many times are you going to be in Paris, huh? This is the trip of a lifetime. We’ve had a ton of fun, seen a lot of old, amazing shit, walked up some towers, and eaten some baguettes at a real Frenchboulangerie. Now, go get laid!” Kylee rested her elbow on the back of her chair, her skinny frame stretched out beneath the amber light hanging above us, making her somehow look more intimidating than normal.
Immediately, the image of a familiar face formed in my mind. Taking a deep breath, I let it out slowly, trying to push downthe guilt that had crept up a million times while we were on our adventure. How could I be sitting here having fun in a bar beneath the shadow of the Eiffel Tower while my mom was at home suffering?
Nimble fingers wrapped around my wrist. “Sweetheart, I know you feel bad about your mom. I get it. I would, too. But Ellie told you to go and have fun. No one understands the sacrifices you’ve made more than she does—and she wants you to have a good time while you’re here, not be lost in melancholy thoughts of her.”
Tears stung my eyes as I swallowed back a sob. I couldn’t let my emotions get the better of me, not sitting here in a crowded bar where I was meant to be having fun with my friends. I had to focus on something else.
Besides, Kylee was right. Mom had told me a million times not to worry about her before I left—and in several text messages since then. I’d taken a ton of pictures, and I fully intended to show her every single one when I got home so she could feel like she’d been here, too.
It had always been my mother’s dream to stand at the top of the Eiffel Tower and look down at Paris at night, with the lights of the tower twinkling, lighting up the River Seine far below.
When I’d told her that my friends were planning this trip, she’d insisted I go, even though I absolutely couldn’t afford it. Cancer treatments don’t pay for themselves, after all. But ultimately, Mother knew best, so here I was, sitting in a bar in Paris with my friends, sipping a beer.
With the hottest guy I’d ever seen sitting at the bar a few dozen yards behind me.
“What are you afraid of?” Kylee leaned in close and gave me a little nudge. “He seems like a nice guy, helping you out with the beers and all. Go over there and talk to him.”