I TOLD MY family about my plans for the evening while we ate dinner.

Eric was not happy. My father even less so. And Camille . . . unhappy was not how I’d describe her reaction. More like controlled fury. Dane seemed stunned, and he kept staring at me throughout the meal.

Eva exuded pure joy.

“William, calm down,” she murmured, patting my father’s arm. “Mathieu is a lovely boy.”

“And you’ve been going to his house every day?” he asked. “For hours? I didn’t even know you liked this boy.”

“He’s kissed her,” Eric said, glaring at me.

“Eric!” I shouted.

“You’ve kissed him?” Camille shouted. Her face was red and her eyes were wild.

Eva let out a long sigh and patted the air with her hands. “Everyone calm down.” She turned to Camille. “You and Mathieu were friends for years before you were together for a few weeks. It was never serious. You moved on, and Sophie had no way of knowing you and Mathieu used to be together. Isn’t that correct, Sophie?”

“I only recently found out.”

“See?” Eva said with a warm smile. “And you have Dane.”

Camille’s eyes filled with tears, and she started speaking in French. I heard Dane’s name, and then Camille stomped off to her room. Dane looked irritated as he scooted back his chair, then followed her.

Eva looked at the rest of us and shook her head with a sigh. “Young love.”

But Camille’s tirade helped calm my dad and Eric. Eva convinced them that nothing was about to happen to me on the Metro or at my father’s place of employment.

My biggest problem was deciding what to wear. I had my sundress from the wedding, but Mathieu had already seen me in it. So I riffled through my suitcases, frustrated by my lack of choices. Going through the few clothes I had hanging in my brother’s closet confirmed it. I steeled myself as I went into my shared room to riffle through my suitcases again.

“He was my boyfriend first,” Camille said, her eyes red from crying.

I stood and turned around to face her. “I’m not trying to take him from you. He told me you two stopped seeing each other in May.”

“Does he know you kissed Thomas?” There was a hateful look in her eyes. “He’s very jealous, you know. He’ll hate you if he finds out.”

I had to admit the thought had occurred to me. But it wasn’t like I had invited Thomas to kiss me—quite the opposite. Still, I planned to tell him about it tonight so it was out in the open. I didn’t want to have to worry about Camille using it against me.

“Are you planning to tell Mathieu for me?” I asked. “Is that what you do? Blackmail people?” The blank look on her face made it obvious she didn’t understand. “I know you have something on Mathieu and you’re using it to get him to do whatever you want. Are you planning to go tell your mother now that you know we’re going out? You’d really ruin his chances of getting the internship next summer out of revenge?”

A blank looked filled her eyes at first, but then she began to laugh. “Is that what he told you?”

I sucked in a breath.

She laughed again. “Poor, stupid Sophie. You can have him.” She slid off her bed. “I hope the two of you are very happy together.” She left the room, and I heard her call Dane’s name. I was disturbed by what she’d said. Was there more to the story than what Mathieu had told me? I was going to get to the bottom of that as well.

But now I had to figure out what to wear. I pushed out a sigh as I held up a wrinkled pink blouse and a white eyelet skirt. This was the best I could do.

“Would you like to look in my closet? I have some things you might like,” Eva said, leaning against the doorway.

I glanced up at her. “Could I? I only have my dress from the wedding, and he saw me in it that day.”

“He did?”

I told her about how he had approached me outside of the restaurant.

“See?” she asked with a twinkle in her eyes. “Destinée.”

I followed her into the room she shared with Dad. It was small, and the queen-size bed and a dresser filled up most of it. Eva walked around the edge of the bed and looked in her closet. “How about this?

She held up a sleeveless navy blue fit and flare cocktail dress. It was the kind of dress that was classic, timeless, very sophisticated . . . and undoubtedly very expensive.

“It’s classic but not formal,” Eva said, “So you won’t feel out of place, but you’ll still be stunning.” She held it up to my front. “Ah, yes. It brings out your eyes. Try it on.”

She handed it to me and shut the door, then sat down on the bed.

I realized she wanted me to try it on in front of her. I’d already figured out the French weren’t ashamed of their bodies, which wasn’t such a bad thing. Besides, I was wearing underwear and a bra. It was pretty much the same as wearing a swimsuit. I stripped and tossed my clothes on the bed, then slipped on the dress.

“Belle!” Eva hopped off the bed and dug at the bottom of her closet. “What size shoes?”

“Seven.”

Her head popped up, and she gave me a look of confusion before returning to her task. “Never mind.” She pulled out a pair of nude heels. “Try these.”

I sat on the bed and slipped them on and stood, thankful they fit.

Eva clasped her hands together and smiled. “Perfect. Look.” She pointed to a full-length mirror next to the closet. I stepped in front of it and gasped. The girl staring back at me in the mirror looked so much more mature than little Sophie Brooks from Charleston, South Carolina. I couldn’t believe it was me. The dress made my waist look smaller, and the hem hit several inches above my knee, which, paired with the heels, made my legs look longer.

Eva moved behind me. “If we put up your hair . . .” She gathered my hair and began to twist the strands, then held it up to the back of my head. “A little more makeup . . .” She looked at my reflection over my shoulder. “Would you like my help?”

“Yes!”

She finished helping me get ready, and I was amazed when I looked in the mirror. I looked so different from the lonely, crying girl Mathieu had met standing outside that restaurant.

I was a different girl.

There was a pounding at the door, and I jumped. “He’s here,” Eric barked from the hall.

Eva chuckled. “They are protective of you. Give them time.”

Maybe so, but I hoped they would bring it down a notch soon.

I walked out of Eva’s room, grateful that she’d loaned me her dress. Mathieu was standing just inside the front door, and there was a serious expression on his face as he talked to my father. He had on a crisp black suit and a soft blue tie, and I’d never seen him look more handsome. He saw me walking toward him and stopped talking, as if mesmerized.

Dad’s gaze followed his, then his eyes narrowed. Eric didn’t look much happier.

All three men watched me as my heels clicked on the wooden floor, and I suddenly felt self-conscious.

Mathieu was still speechless when I stopped in front of him, but then he blinked and seemed to gather his wits about him. “Sophie, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”

My father scowled, and Eric’s eyes narrowed too. “That’s my sister, Mathieu, so keep your hands off her tonight.”

“Eric,” Eva murmured in a soothing tone as if my brother were a feral dog that needed to be talked out of biting someone. “Sophie is capable of making her own decisions.” She turned to Mathieu. “But if I ever hear about you hurting my daughter, I will hunt you down myself.”

Mathieu swallowed audibly. “I would never hurt Sophie.”

“You will have her back by ten o’clock,” my father said, his voice gruff.

“Dad!” I protested. “The concert doesn’t even start until eight thirty.”

“Then ten thirty.”

I started to protest, but Eva put a hand on my father’s arm. “Eleven seems more reasonable, don’t you think, William?”

Dad scowled once more. “I guess.”

Mathieu looked very serious as he nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Eva opened the front door and gave us a huge smile. “Have a wonderful night, Sophie. Mathieu, give your mother my love.”

“Merci,” I said. As I walked toward the door, I looked back and saw Camille and Dane on a sofa in the living room, watching TV. Camille eyes widened when she saw me, then turned angry. But it was Dane’s expression that worried me more. He looked . . . interested.

It was a good thing he was leaving on Saturday.

Mathieu was quiet as we descended the stairs. When we hit the lobby, he put his hand on my lower back and ushered me outside. Then he turned to look at me, and a grin spread across his face. “Sophie, you are so beautiful.”

“You are too,” I said, then blushed. “You look very nice in your suit. I’m glad Eva loaned me her dress.”

“I will be the envy of everyone there.”

I smiled, so full of joy I could hardly contain it. I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him, but he put his hands on my arms. “We have an audience.”

Sure enough, three sets of eyes peered down from my apartment—Dad, Eric, and Dane.

If they bothered Mathieu, he didn’t let on. “We have a car.” He gestured to a black sedan parked at the curb and opened the back door. “Mademoiselle.”

“Mathieu, you didn’t have to pay for a car! We could have taken the Metro.”

He smiled. “Not tonight.”

I slid across the backseat and he climbed in after me. The driver turned around to address Mathieu in French, and I recognized the word belle.

Mathieu’s cheeks turned pink. “Sophie, I’d like to introduce you to my father, Pierre Rousseau.”

“Oh!” I gasped. His father drove a taxi, so it made sense Mathieu would get him to drive. I was excited to meet him. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Rousseau.”

I held my hand out to shake his, but he grabbed it and kissed my knuckles. “Enchanté.”

I blushed and pulled my hand free. Mathieu’s father chuckled as he drove away from the curb.

“French men are notorious flirts,” Mathieu murmured in my ear. “They flirt for the sake of flirting.” He grabbed my hand and stroked the open palm.

My stomach tinkled at the contact. “Is that what you’re doing now?” I asked, holding my breath.

“Mais, non,” he said, turning to look more directly into my eyes. “I’ve wanted to hold your hand ever since I watched you play your Rachmaninoff prelude this afternoon. I wanted to hold the hand that created such beauty.”

I grinned. “Trying to live up to the French reputation?”

His eyes twinkled. “Is it working?”

“Oui.”

We stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and the way he was looking at me brought a new blush to my cheeks.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he murmured softly, looking down at my lips for an instant.

“Thank you for inviting me,” I managed to push out before I looked away. I’d liked him before, but now that he was full-on courting me, I felt myself falling under his spell. I wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing or a good one.

We rode in silence the rest of the way to Saint-Chapelle, but we kept glancing at each other, locking gazes for several seconds and smiling. Several times I thought he was going to kiss me, but with his father in the front seat, I was glad he didn’t.

Monsieur Rousseau pulled up to the curb and dropped us off. He opened the window and said something to Mathieu before driving away.

Mathieu could see I was curious about their exchange. “He told me to call him when we are ready for him to pick us up, but to give him a half-hour notice.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling nosy.

He put his hand at the small of my back. “Let’s go find our seats.”

We stood in a line outside the church. Mathieu held my hand, his fingers laced with mine. Though this was hardly the first time we’d been alone together, tonight felt so different, so magical, I was worried I’d break the spell.

Mathieu eyes were filled with wonder whenever he looked at me. “I know I keep telling you this, but you look so beautiful tonight.”

“It’s Eva’s dress.”

“It’s not just the dress.”

I blushed. I definitely wasn’t used to this kind of attention. The scaffolding caught my eye when I glanced at the outside of the chapel. “See that gargoyle? My father is restoring that one.”

Mathieu’s eyes flew open. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. He brought us here last weekend to show us.” I’d been too angry to appreciate the beauty of what he was doing, but standing here with Mathieu, it suddenly registered. “This building is literally hundreds of years old, and my father is giving it new life so people can continue to enjoy its true beauty.”

“It’s not so different from what you do,” he said, studying the stone sculpture. “You take musical pieces hundreds of years old and give them new life. You play them so others can enjoy the work the way the composers intended them to be played and enjoyed.”

I turned slowly to look at him. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” His deep blue eyes were locked onto mine.

“How do you know exactly the right thing to say?”

He grinned, and a boyish gleam filled his eyes. “It’s the gift of the French.”

I laughed in response and he tugged me closer, staring at me like I was the only girl the world. At that moment, I almost felt like I was.

I had worried that Mathieu would be bored by the concert—most of my friends would have been, Jenna included—but he looked enthralled. We went to a nearby restaurant afterward and ordered dessert to share—cheesecake and crème brûlée.

But as magical as this was, I needed this growing thing between us to be firmly anchored to the truth. “Camille was upset I was going out with you tonight.”

He licked the back of his spoon before he asked, “Does this bother you?”

“No, not really. She has Dane, and honestly, I think she’s more upset that he’s leaving. She seems to see you as more of a possession.”

He nodded and took another bite. “Why do I have a feeling there is more?”

“Because you are very perceptive, Monsieur Rousseau.” I sliced my spoon through my dessert. “I accused her of blackmailing you with your secret.”

He watched me, waiting for me to continue.

“She insinuated there’s more to the story.”

He sighed, sounding weary. “Camille is into games.”

I set my spoon on the table. “I need you to tell me the truth, Mathieu. If we can’t tell each other the truth, we have nothing at all.”

He looked down at his plate, and I could tell he was weighing his options.

“I know Camille cheated on you.”

His gaze jerked up to mine.

“Thomas was talking to your friends at the Bastille Day celebration. They were surprised to hear you’ve been hanging out with her this summer. Thomas said it was like she had something on you.” I leaned forward. “Other people see this too, Mathieu.”

He kept his eyes down.

“Thomas said you found Camille with Hugo. That you found them together.”

Mathieu sat back in his chair and looked out the window, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Why didn’t you tell me about how things ended?” I tried hard to keep any accusation out of my voice.

“I was embarrassed.”

“That she cheated on you? That’s not on you, Mathieu. That speaks to her character, not yours.”

“No. Embarrassed of how I reacted.”

My chest tightened. What could he have done?

He looked into my eyes. “Hugo and I used to be friends when we were younger, but that changed as soon as he found another group of friends. His grades were always better than mine and he loved to shove it into my face, especially since he knew my stepfather accepted nothing less than perfection. Camille has known him since we were all in primary school. And she also knows we are enemies.”

I had a really bad feeling about where this story was going.

“Yet she always liked him anyway, even though he never paid attention to her. But when he found out we were together, that changed. When I realized Camille and I would never work together, I told her we had to talk. She said she’d be home at five, but I got there earlier. I had a key to her apartment, so I let myself in. I heard noises in her room and went to investigate. That’s when I found them.”

“In bed?”

“Oui. There was no doubt about what they were doing.”

I cringed.

“I think I was more upset that she would betray me by being with him of all people. I was furious. I hauled him out of bed, still naked, and punched him. I told Camille we were no longer friends and left. I’m not proud of how I handled it. I think I broke his nose.”

“She’s holding that over you? You could use it against her too. Besides, I think you were justified.”

“That’s not all I did, Sophie.”

“Oh.”

“You have to understand the depth of my anger toward him. He made my life hell all through colleges—what we call middle school. His family knew mine, so I was forced to endure him. He would tell my stepfather things that weren’t true about me and I would get into trouble.”

“That’s terrible!”

“But now you see that this was the last thing I could take.”

“What did you do?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I changed his grades.”

“Excuse me?”

“I hacked into the school grading system and changed his grades.”

“That’s ingenious.”

A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Until I got caught.”

“Oh no.”

“I was going to be expelled, but my mother convinced the proviseur to give me a punishment instead. I started it this week, which is why I was gone.”

“But Camille knows,” I said, picking at the crème brûlée.

“And Thomas.”

I nodded. Of course he would, though it made sense that he hadn’t told his other friends. Something like that truly could destroy his future. “International banking. I would guess you need a squeaky clean record.”

He nodded, looking grim. “The proviseur says she won’t report me as long as I complete my work.”

“What do you have to do?”

He gave me a wry grin. “Tutor students who struggle while they are on summer break. Some maintenance work around the school. I must complete one hundred hours.”

“And you won’t have to worry about it hurting your career?”

“Except for Camille.”

“What about Hugo? Why doesn’t he tell on you?”

“The proviseur discovered that Hugo had changed some of his own grades. Before me. She agreed to keep it from his father as long as he was quiet about my involvement.”

“But Camille can still tell.” The dessert in my stomach began to churn. “Oh, Mathieu. I hate to think of you risking so much for me.”

His eyes flew open. “No, Sophie. I didn’t just do it for you. I did it for me. Camille will hold this over my head for the rest of my life. I don’t want to live like that. I did a bad thing, so I must pay the price if it comes out. I accept that.”

“But for the rest of your life? Camille has control over your future.”

He shrugged. “There is nothing I can do but wait and hope she doesn’t tell.”

That was so wrong. “I don’t understand. Why did you defend her?”

A faraway look filled his eyes. “She used to be different. Happy. But that was before her father died. My friends and I hope that girl will come back.”

Mathieu had shared his deep dark secret, so it was time to confess mine. Especially after the whole mess with Camille. My back tensed as I clutched my hands on the tabletop to steel my nerves. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Worry filled his eyes. “Okay.”

I looked down. “You guessed that Thomas liked me. Did he know how you felt?”

“No.”

“I really like him as a friend. I told him I had a boyfriend back home because I didn’t want him to think about me that way. Everyone else ignored me, so I was grateful for the company. Plus he’s nice.” I gave him a soft smile. “I can see why he’s your best friend.”

His eyes were guarded.

“I went with Camille and your friends on Bastille Day. Thomas was there, and I told him I didn’t have a boyfriend back home.” Would he get up and walk away from me forever? The temptation to keep quiet was almost overwhelming. It didn’t matter. I had to tell him. “You and I had already broken up, but I didn’t think he would . . .”

“I know he kissed you.” He reached across the table and grabbed my hands in his. “He told me.”

“What?” He already knew?

“He knew you were hung up on someone else. He called me and told me, so I told him about us.”

“You did?” I cringed and squeezed my eyes shut. “Does he hate me?”

“Non, Sophie. He thinks I’m the lucky one who found you first.”

“Do you hate me?”

His eyes lit up. “Non, I could never hate you.”

I pushed out a huge sigh of relief.

“Now, no more talk of Camille or Thomas.” He smiled and leaned forward. “What did you think about the concert?”

I started analyzing the piece, and a huge smile spread across his face. I stopped talking, then asked, “What?”

He shook his head. “You should see your face right now. I love watching you talk about music. You are so . . . full of life.”

I lowered my gaze, feeling self-conscious. “Music . . . I just feel it. It’s like a second language to me—a way to express what’s in my soul better than words ever could.” Had I really just told him that? I started to pull my hands away, but he held them in place.

“Non. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s wonderful. Your love for music is inspiring.”

“What do you have that inspires you?”

His smile softened. “You.”

“Mathieu,” I scolded. “I’m serious.”

“And so am I.”

“Okay . . .” I grinned. “What about before you knew me? What excited you then?”

He let go of my hands and sat up straighter. “I’m not sure I have a real passion like you do, but I love banking and economics. I find it fascinating, especially global macroeconomics. China’s market has increased at such a fast rate that—” He stopped and grinned. “See?”

I squeezed his hand. “So you do have something you love.”

“Global economy?” he asked, sounding incredulous. “Most people would fall asleep after thirty seconds.”

“But you love it. That’s all that matters. My friends don’t understand why I love music so much, not even Jenna.” I shrugged. “But she knows it’s my thing and she accepts it.”

He turned serious. “Is it wrong that I hope you get into my mother’s conservatoire so I don’t lose you?” He paused. “I hope you don’t misunderstand. I want you to get in anyway, but I also don’t want you to go home in a few weeks.”

A warm feeling filled my chest and spread throughout my body. “When I decided to audition, I wasn’t sure I’d accept a position if I made it, but I’m rethinking that. I told my mother, and she wants me to try. She’s excited for me.”

“Will you live with your father or on the campus?”

Dad still hadn’t given me his blessing. In fact, I hadn’t told him anything about my practice or the pieces I was playing, although Eva had asked questions. I got the distinct impression he didn’t want me to come live in Paris, but why? The only explanation I could come up with was that my continued presence would upset his new family. Camille pretty much openly hated me now, and I had been difficult since my arrival. Staying for the summer was one thing; moving in was another.

I frowned. “Living on campus might have to be an option. I don’t think my dad wants me to go to school here, so I doubt he would want me to live with him, even though Eva says I’m welcome.”

He shook his head. “Non. You didn’t see him asking me questions before you came out of the bedroom. He cares about you.” He grimaced. “Your brother might be the issue. He might not be willing to let you out of his sight for that long.”

I chuckled. “This is an entirely new side of him. You saw the way he reacted to my adventure the day you rescued me from the platform at St. Michel. He used to find pretty much everything I did annoying.”

A soft smile lit up his eyes. “I wasn’t looking at your brother that day.”

I blushed again.

He shook his head, grinning. “I couldn’t believe it when I found you at the station that day—the girl from the restaurant. I wanted to stay and talk to you that night, but Camille . . .”

“You were there to meet her, right?”

“Oui.”

It totally made sense, especially since Camille had disappeared by the time I returned to the celebration. “But after you found me in the Metro station, you were so angry with me, not that I blamed you. I was so hateful.”

His mouth dropped open. “I wasn’t mad at you, Sophie. I was mad at Camille. I thought about you constantly after I met you at the restaurant, but I didn’t think I would ever see you again. When I figured out you were le diable, I couldn’t believe it. I knew she was wrong about you.”

“In the park—after you found Camille—Eric was trying to translate what you were saying. He said you were talking too fast, but he was sure you were angry with me.”

“Non. I was angry with Camille for leaving you like that. And then for stealing Dane from you when she knew you liked him, although I wasn’t surprised. Not after Hugo.” His eyes found mine.

I felt my cheeks flushing. “It embarrasses me that you know that about Dane. I can’t believe I ever thought of him that way.”

“And me?”

I smiled. “You? I liked you the moment I saw you. Lucky for you, I like you even more now.”

“A little?” he teased.

I held up my hand and pinched my thumb and index finger. “A wee little bit.”

He grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles. “Then I have work to do.”

I was looking forward to it.

Mathieu grabbed the waiter and asked for the addition, then called his father. We left the restaurant and walked to the sidewalk running along the Seine. We were on the Left Bank, in the section where the sixth and seventh arrondissements met. The streets were lined with souvenir shops, but most of them were closed now, their metal garage doors pulled down and locked. And all the carts and vendors that lined the sidewalk during the day were gone.

This was a different side of Paris, the real Paris behind the tourists and the glitz.

We stood next to the low stone wall, and Mathieu put his arm around my back. He pulled me against him, my hands against his strong chest, and looked deep into my eyes. Now that all the lies and secrets had been ripped away, only we were left behind.

And it felt wonderful.

“You are unlike any girl I’ve ever known,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead.

I grinned. “I bet it’s because you’re not forced to speak English all the time with other girls.”

He laughed. “True, but that’s not the reason.”

“It must be because I have a brother who constantly threatens to beat you up.”

“That’s true as well, but it’s still not the reason.”

I stared into his eyes, his heartbeat quickening under my hand.

“You, Sophie Brooks, have captivated my heart, something no other girl has done.” He lifted his hand to cup my cheek, then lowered his head, brushing his lips softly against mine.

My heart stuttered in response. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined I would find a boyfriend like Mathieu Rousseau. It occurred to me that my wish on the star outside of Notre Dame had come true.

As he kissed me again, I felt a new hope for doing well in the audition and getting accepted.

Now I only had to convince my father.