“Now you’re sure I look okay in this outfit, Nana?” I ask, checking out my reflection in the mirror before I head out the door.

Brimmed hat. White button-down. Suit jacket. Creased slacks.

The image staring back in the mirror exposes the new me: Jaxson Malone, the chauffeur.

The driver.

A butler on wheels.

It’s been a little over two months since I arrived in Paris, a mere broken-hearted fool. Since then, I’ve immersed myself in the throes of Gramps’s limousine business, preparing for this day—the day he passes the torch to me. You see, Gramps has decided to take a break from the business. He and Nana want to head to the villa they bought in the South of France. Nana has her heart set on opening up an art gallery near the villa and Gramps doesn’t want her there alone. The original plan was to sell the business, but Gramps said he’d much rather it stay in the family. So, Gramps took me under his wing, teaching me the little intricacies about his limo service. I’ve shadowed Gramps, allowing myself to absorb all I can about the business, been out with other drivers learning routes and the beautiful streets of Paris, getting to know a few clients, and most of all…grasping the concept of being subservient, since part of my duties will be driving a client around. Subservience is a totally new concept for me. In my previous life, I was used to being served. I was the one being driven around. The one who had places to go and people to see.

Kind of, anyway.

I must say, I’ve done an excellent job fleeing my old life and honestly I don’t even know who I am anymore.

An amused expression quirks up the side of Nana’s mouth as she studies me. “Yeah”—she nods—“I think that just about does it. You look perfect. No one will ever recognize you are the Jaxson Malone.”

“Wonderful. Because the last thing I want is for anyone to know who I really am.”

The loser who got dumped.

Other than my parents, Gramps and Nana, and my agent, no one else knows I’m in Paris now. It’s been refreshing not having to work hard at evading the media. Fortunately, Date Me, Then Marry Me isn’t too popular here. Unlike Dancing With The Stars.

Gramps nods, looking me up and down through his eyeglasses. “I agree with Nana. And you better get going.” He looks down at his watch. “You’re already late, young man.”

“Yeah, the last thing we need is for you to start your first day on the wrong foot with Ms. Blake by means of a late arrival. She is kind of…special, you know,” Nana says, her hand pressed to her mouth as if she were trying to stifle a giggle.

“What do you mean by special?”

Rising up from the couch, Gramps presses his hand against his lower back while he slowly hobbles over to me, his forehead slightly creased. “Now don’t you pay Nana no mind.” He looks up at me while he adjusts my tie. “By special, Nana means Lauren Blake is my top client. I trust no other driver to her than you.” He steps back to stand next to Nana and tilts his head to the side before he adds, “But, one piece of advice I can offer about Lauren is don’t do or say anything to piss her off. She tends to be a bit of an Ice Princess.”

Don’t piss her off? Ice Princess? Well, at least she’s not a heartbreaking Southern Belle.

“With all due respect, Gramps, if she’s Chic Limo’s top client, why the hell are you allowing me to drive her around, alone? Shouldn’t you be there with me today, to transition?”

Gramps gives a whisk of a smile as he shakes his head. “I was planning to transition with you today, but Nana and I have an appointment with a realtor about a space for the gallery. You’ll be fine without me. You’ve had enough practice now and, so far”—he clears his throat—“there have been no hiccups. Besides, like I mentioned, I trust no other driver with Lauren other than you.” Gramps takes hold of Nana’s hand, bringing it up to his mouth before he kisses it. “Look, Jaxson, truth is, Nana and I are eager to move on to the next chapter in our life, which doesn’t include the limo business. I think you’re a perfect fit for this—have felt that way for quite some time, honestly. You being here has lifted weight off my shoulders. And while I don’t need the limo business in my life, I don't want to just throw it away. Like I said when you first got here, the business is yours if you want it. Just think of today as a trial run.”

It was the first thing he mentioned to me when I arrived here from NYC. The business is yours if you want it. My dad agreed, saying this change would be good for me. I’m not at all too sure I agree. Yet, I don’t want to disappoint the grandparents and the gig isn’t too bad. My only concern is the competition. Chic Limos has lost a great deal of business to Uber. At the same time, a low client list helps keep staffing requirements low, especially if I do some of the driving for the elite clients like Gramps did. He drove exclusively for Lauren.

“Well, I promise to do my best not to piss her off.”

Gramps tosses me the keys to the town car. “Then go. Now. You don’t want to be late. Call me if anything comes up. And good luck.”

The streets of Paris are already splattered with tourists, professionals, and lovers hovering around the once-famed Love Lock Bridge. Nana said she and Gramps had a lock there that symbolized their promise of lifetime love. They hooked the lock to the fence when they met in France and fell in love over forty years ago. Both studying art abroad, not only did they fall head over heels for each other, they fell hard for Paris. So much so, each wove pieces of Paris in the lives they started together when they got married after college. Nana began writing romance novels set in the capital of love and romance. The novels were published right away, and her popular series Woo Me In Paris sold millions of copies in the US and Europe. Gramps wove pieces of Paris in his successful import / export business of fine French wine and cheese.

When my mom left for college, Gramps and Nana sold the house, cars, and the import / export business, then moved to Paris. I can tell they love it here; it’s home sweet home to them. Nana said she was heartbroken when they learned the Love Lock Bridge fence would be taken down two years ago. So Gramps went out, bought chain-link fence material, and made a replica of the famous fence with only one lock on it—theirs. He gave it to her for their anniversary and apparently she cried a pool of elated tears for a good fifteen minutes.

Yeah, I too would totally be that guy.

If I had a wife to love as much as Gramps loves Nana.

The town car GPS commands an authoritative Turn left, and then one mile ahead, your destination will be on the right, pulling me back to now.

Dutifully following directions, I turn left, trailing along, and spot the large gray and white building, Chateau De Grenelle, ahead. The place alone is an intimidating five grandiose stories of unmistakable wealth. The type of residence that sits on New York’s Park Avenue.

Suitable for an Ice Princess.

As I slow down to pull the car to a stop alongside the curb, in front of the building, I hear a crunch as the car tires roll over…something.

And to the right of me, a halting screech of a woman emphatically shouting, “Oh no please, not my phone!”