One Year Later

Paris at dusk is more magical than any other place on earth.

Twinkling street lights, bars and cafés filled with people spilling onto the streets, the scent of fresh baked bread, good wine and rare steaks in the air. The honk of cars and motorcycles racing through the streets, the smoke of cigarettes filling your vision and the music of street performers carrying on the wind.

I walk back to the flat with its Eiffel Tower view, my chef’s coat in hand, my hands tired and feet throbbing. But, the smile that marks my face is genuine. And the interest I take in the city I live in is now more thoughtful, I don’t just watch it pass by from the windows of a cab now.

“A rare evening off with my woman,” he calls from the kitchen when I close the door, the orange light of sunset filtering in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

In the last year, things in my life have changed in subtle, but dramatic, ways. Or should I say, things in our life.

I walk into the apartment that was once mine alone, now shared by Colton. It still has its feminine decor, the mirrored furniture, the creamy white couches, the pink throw pillows and chandeliers over both the dining room table and the king sized bed. But in the closet, on the rug next to the front door, in the shower, and on the bathroom sink, there are all traces of a man.

“So, it’s probably not as good as whatever you brought home from the restaurant, but I did make us an appetizer of pork wrapped in pastry crust.” He smiles at me, his dark hair a little longer, the stubble he’s been sporting now growing into a dark, handsome beard.

I round the kitchen counter, the entire room done in white marble and subway tile, and look at the pan he’s pulling out. “These are pigs in a blanket …”

Colton kisses me chastely on the cheek. “They’re pork with puff pastry, and that’s how I see them. Don’t be a downer.”

I roll my eyes at his attempt to cook. “Well, those wieners will go perfectly with our Jambon persillé, as that is pork as well. Can I have a glass of wine?”

“That I can throw together.” He winks at me, taking two glasses out of the cabinet.

As I watch him, I think about how wonderful it’s been having him here with me.

After we left Vermont, we spent a week and a half in West Virginia. On that first day, I honestly didn’t know if Colton would make it three hours. Putting his mother in the state facility nearly broke him after everything else he’d been through in that period of time, and I’d never seen him so devastated.

It hadn’t helped that I was returning to Paris just days after that. So when he suggested he have his first official visit to my second country at the same time I was moving back in and preparing for my apprenticeship, I didn’t hesitate to say yes.

Fate stepped in, and Colton’s agent finally did his job, and one of the French basketball teams who play out of the city of lights heard that he was coming over for a visit. They gave him a tryout the week he stayed with me, and signed him to a contract just hours after he’d left their practice facility. For the last year, he’d been riding high as one of Europe’s best basketball players. His team had even won the European Basketball League championship last season, his rookie year.

And with that contract came a paycheck … a large one. Colton now had enough money to set his mother up nicely, in a private facility, away from the sludge that resided in the state program. Not that money bought happiness, I knew that much, but it was a relief for him to be able to support his family in a real way.

He loved Paris, and Europe. It was the first time he’d ever traveled outside of the States, and he would say to me all the time that he didn’t plan on ever going back. Deep down, I knew his dream was still the NBA, but I didn’t bring it up. Some wounds were better left alone, scabbed over even if they weren’t healed.

I still talked to Blair through text constantly, and she let me know what went down on the day that Jade Mountain University launched an official investigation into what happened to Julia Henley. One of the local reporters I copied on the email I sent decided to run the story, and from there the news went national. The social clubs are all but extinct, and many of the top members at Charter House, including Gretchen, are being questioned by police.

My name has never been brought into it, but then again it wouldn’t be. I created a fake email address, had the help of a tech friend of Asher’s who routed it through some dummy IP address, so it could never be traced back to me. And since Gretchen and her minions had no dirt on me anymore, after Colton’s confession, it served no purpose to draw attention to my part in it.

I wasn’t glad, per se, to drudge up a scandal … but those bitches deserved it after what they’d done to her, and to me. And probably to loads more innocent girls that had passed through their ranks over the years.

“How was work?” Colton sets our plates down on the table, having set up the food I’d brought home in containers while I washed off the day.

“Bloody chaos, but I loved every minute. Chef Jacques was in rare form tonight, he smashed five plates against the wall. I had to bite my tongue to stop from giggling.”

“Please, allow me to bite it for you now.” Colton leaned over me as I took my seat, his mouth a wicked smile before it descended over mine.

My heart fluttered, actually fluttered, as he delivered me a proper welcome home kiss. And when he pulled back, that same devilish grin on his lips, I had to catch my breath for a minute.

We were more in love than I could have ever imagined being with another person. And not just that, but we were companions. We supported each other; he, when I worked late into the night at the restaurant I was a line cook at, and me, when he was on the road for a game and lonely. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, coming home to another person, sharing every intimate part of your life with them.

Colton and I were two opposite sides of a coin that just happened to fit perfectly together. Who knew it would take a cross country trip in which I promised to have some fun and let me hair down, that I would end up coming away with the love of a lifetime.

“You know what would really turn me on tonight?” I held his hand across the table, the food hot and ready to be eaten in front of us.

“What’s that?” He tipped a sip of wine back with his free hand.

“If you spoke French to me.” I grinned, knowing I was being a bit cheeky.

Colton gave me a stink-eye. “You know I’m not very good at those lessons.”

I laughed. No, he wasn’t making much progress on learning the language, but it was adorable to hear him try.

And secretly, I liked it when he butchered those elegant French words in the bedroom.