Chapter Ten…
“I bet he proposes. Oh my God! Paris! The City of Love!” Vixen squealed and did a little swaying dance before hugging herself after I filled the café girls in on my travel itinerary. They still seemed unbelievable to me.
“City of Lights,” I corrected her and she waved her hand at me as if to swat away my words. I was sure she had read many love stories that were set in Paris.
“I love Paris…. summer… spring… all the time…” Evie sang to me.
“Bring me some of those Ladurée macarons. I don’t even care if they’re fresh. I want a variety box… I’ll give you money.” Marzi started digging in her front pocket and I stilled her hand—I would not take her money.
“I will bring souvenirs back for everyone. For sure you will have hot pink Eiffel Tower keychains to remind you of me.” I laughed. I wasn’t even sure they had them.
“I will pass on the pink keychain. I will just steal one of Marzi’s macarons,” Vin balked at my thoughtfulness. How could he not want my gift I kidded him and told him I would get him a smartass slogan t-shirt.
“How could I ever forget you? I am just so happy for you.” Pansie hugged me. “You found the perfect guy.”
“No such thing!” Saylor jumped into the conversation after finishing up with a customer and snagging a treasured seashell from her tip jar. “They are all flawed. Don’t be fooled. Looks are deceiving. Snakes and snails and puppy dog tails. Remember that…”
“Yes, I know, we are all sugar and spice and everything nice. No flaws to us,” I finished her usual definition of men and women. Then we all laughed at Saylor knowing that she wasn’t fooling us—she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if her beast stopped coming around and annoying her.
Filled with spiced latte and one too many pastry treats, I hugged the girls goodbye and set off to meet Mason at my apartment. He had arranged for a driver to drop us at the airport for a red eye to New York before continuing on to Paris. It was real. I was returning to Paris. I had dreamed of returning as a grown up. I was sure it would be different going with him. Seeing it through the eyes of an adult, I knew that I would appreciate it far more than I did as a young girl. I thought it was pretty spectacular back then, it had to be over the top amazing. I was right, it did not disappoint as we entered the city limits and I saw a few familiar landmarks, namely the Avenue des Champs-Élysées and the River Seine. I did not see the famous tower until we had checked in and threw open the French doors in our room… ooh la la! I… we had arrived.
And the whirlwind began right away—no time to rest—Mason pulled me out onto the streets to roam before we had to shower and dress for the cocktail party. I was delighted that he did, it seemed all new with him heading off the beaten path to sights I had not seen. In particular I was wowed by two different lush gardens; the Luxembourg Garden with its brightly colored sailboats and Parc Monceau with its pond and columns. They were both enchanting to my fairytale brain. I could hear Vixen in my head saying either of those two places are perfect for him to get down on one knee. Our stop for a glass of wine was near Canal Martin, another spot I had not been to and it had me thinking of one of my favorite movies. I could picture Amélie on a bridge and wished that we had gone to her café to see everyone—as if they would be there, I laughed to myself.
“We need to find a photo booth!” I exclaimed.
“You want to make-out in one or something?” He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s an Amélie thing.” I bit my lip, waiting for him to call me silly or worse, he didn’t know the movie. That had to be a crime in my book and we may have had to part ways.
“Aah, we will find one and go to Sacré Coeur too… and maybe a porn shop.”
So happy, I leaned forward with my hand on either side of his handsome face and brought my lips to his. Surely kissing in Paris was acceptable, they invented the French kiss, right? I didn’t care if I was being totally inappropriate because I attacked his mouth hungrily and he complied equally. Finished with our wine, we popped onto the metro and found everything we were looking for before heading back to our hotel to get ready to join a group of strangers to celebrate their upcoming union.
Hors d’œuvres and lavender martinis greeted us the moment we entered a beautiful ballroom with dangling chandeliers. Not knowing anyone, we watched and waited to see who everyone was greeting since like us; men were in suits and women in dresses. A toast clued us in on the bride and groom to be and once they were free Mason swooped in and introduced us to them. That nearly incited a riot as they announced to everyone that Mason was the guest of honor for the event since his site had brought them to each other. The rest of the night was pretty much a blur after we got through the rehearsal run through as more and more toasts were made throughout dinner and dessert.
I woke the next morning realizing that I had not been christened on my first night in Paris with a man… not just any man either. But Mason made up for it bright and early by making my screams heard over the sound of church bells chiming out our doors. I say that because I only heard one of them before I was lost from the real world into my dreamy haze. I could have stayed right there in that bed for all eternity, basking in the afterglow. Mason, however, had more to show me and with a bit of a hangover we headed out, taking a trip to Versailles. A palace, what girl could turn down the chance to walk the historical halls where real life princesses strolled? Certainly not this girl! Vixen would have reprimanded me royally if I had refused. “Your prince could propose,” I heard her saying in my head. I had never really given marriage much thought but being in the midst of matrimonial events must’ve been affecting me.
Back from exploring the Hall of Mirrors, King Louis XIV’s pleasure garden, and the Queen’s Hamlet, we donned formal wear—Mason was handsome in his tux and he did tie a bow, no clip-on tie for him. I had brought along a dark cream, sequined, sleeveless mermaid evening gown for the late afternoon wedding. To my delight, Mason’s shirt was a cream color that complimented my dress—I was sure that he had planned that. We looked stunning together. The wedding was beautiful, short and sweet in a small chapel packed with family, friends and us. I could not tell you what words were said or the exact moment that they became husband and wife because the ceremony was all in French. Funny, I didn’t remember that from the rehearsal. The kiss and the newlyweds walking out of the chapel was our only clue that it was over and we were off to the party.
The reception—all in English—was in a hotel close to ours and pretty much a repeat of the first evening’s events; appetizers, White Wedding Martinis, dinner, and a lot of wine. The addition of wedding cake, champagne and dancing set the evening apart. The other difference was that I limited my libation consumption; one of the delicious martinis, one glass of delectable wine, and one flute of delightful bubbly because stumbling wasn’t an option. I had planned to walk out of the exquisite ballroom with my head held high, in tip top shape, and finish what I had been denied earlier.
Booked into the same hotel that my Lily LaSalle painting had depicted—thanks to Mason’s attention to details—I stood looking out at the similar view in the daylight and watched the nightlife in the distance. I had posed earlier in the day once I was just about ready to go to the wedding. Lying on the comfy bed naked besides my sexy heels, I raised my crisscrossed legs in the air with my arms crossing my breasts, and Mason snapped several photos to mimic my favorite painting. Had we not been rushed to get to the ceremony, I imagine that plenty of naughtiness would’ve unfolded with my sexy photographer.
I turned my head from gazing at the Eiffel Tower bathed in twinkly lights and watched Mason pour a couple of glasses of champagne before he settled on the bed. So romantic, he sparked my thoughts.
“Excursion dating. Romantic City. We get the hotel to give a group rate. People are relaxed when they’re on vacation. Ten men, ten women… maybe fifteen is better as group rates usually start at thirty. Airline discounts too. The hotel will probably give us a complimentary room. We should research cafés, tours… everything before we leave.”
“What if no matches are made?” I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.
“No one can complain about a trip to Paris. When Paris is a success you offer more European trips or even tropical ones. Island love sounds ooh la la too.” I moved away from the balcony and closer to him lounging with his ankles crossed and his arms folded behind his head.
“Your stunning brain is always reeling, isn’t it?”
“Yes, my stunning brain.” I laughed for a brief second, shaking my head as I climbed up next to him. “I am always brainstorming; new haircuts, new shampoo scents, new ways to decorate my apartment. I have come up with some horrible things along the way, like when I wanted to be Elle Woods, the Legally Blond character. I made pretty much everything pink in my apartment and even on the balcony with adorable pink gingham cushions. I loved it all in the beginning, but once a friend mentioned that it looked like Barbie’s dream house, I quickly tossed it out only leaving subtle hints of pink behind.” I stopped to shake my head again at the vivid memory. “And now you have opened my eyes to a whole new world… in so many ways. I think about you… your business all of the time.”
“You think about me all of the time?”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.”
“No, you said you think of me all of the time. You just added my business because you slipped.” He had me pinned down underneath his wonderfully muscular body in an instant. “Say you find me stunning. Say you want me. Say you think about me all of the time again. Say you need me. Say you’ll marry me.” I smiled, looking up at him and didn’t hesitate with my answer.
“Yes, but you will have to move in with me.” I had no intention of moving, I love my home, and he lived in his office.
“Where will we put our kids?” Kids?! No more than two.
“There are two other bedrooms.” One was my old bedroom with its own bathroom and the other had been used as an office. There was a full bathroom off the hallway for that bedroom’s resident to use.
“The pool is not safe.” I had survived that pool.
“Life vests and you teach them to swim.” Just like my father had taught me.
“You have a rebuttal to everything I say.” He was smirking at me.
“That’s not going to change. Our life will be laced with spice.”
“And your ass will most likely be a lovely shade of pink to match your soul patch.”
“Lusty love nest! I added the love for you. I am not budging on the soul part.”
“Why don’t you let me talk to her…” His voice trailed off as he attempted to go south on my body, but I held onto him, stopping his journey.
“It will never work no matter how fabulous you are at chatting with her. I will fight you every which way…” He silenced me with his lush lips over mine. Passionate nibbles, licks, and a tangling dance of warm tongues ensued making my head swim with delight. I moaned at the loss of his lips as he pulled back, but I quickly swooned in his arms with his la la whispered words.
“I love you so much. Never change, my love.”
My love… Oh… I was so ready. “I love you too.”
The perfect moment wrapped up in each other’s arms for life.
THE END
Well, not really… find out what Vin is doing at Cafélicious…
Saturday: Light, Full Bodied & Screwed (Hookup Café, book 6)
Novella – Standalone – 6-Book Series
There should be rules in place when beautiful women sit at counters where chefs are trying to create dishes that are edible or maybe they should be restricted altogether… I’m not sure, I just know her speech about wines made me think of her as Light, Full Bodied & Screwed…. yes, where she was concerned I was screwed… meet Darla!
Saturday: Light, Full Bodied & Screwed
May 13th release – pre-order available