Chapter Five
The Paris of her imaginings never came close to the actual Paris viewed from the descending plane. Charles De Gaulle International airport was in sight just as the sun was setting in the horizon showering the landscape with a golden hue. Tightly packed rooftops in silvery bluish tinge spread for miles, interspersed with low-rise edifices bounded by open spaces in a sea of green. Modern buildings were clustered together overlooking the city as if defying the contemporary with their more modern mien. Lording the landscape was the Iron Lady, the Eiffel Tower, gloriously basking in the golden glow of the setting sun. Carla pressed her forehead against the window to take in as much of the view that was offered until the plane’s wing hid the iconic spires.
So engrossed was she, yet she noticed that Falcon had come to join her. The excitement of being in another country made her giddy she momentarily forgot they weren’t speaking.
“It’s beautiful,” she gushed.
“Yes, it is,” Falcon agreed gently. “Wait till you see the rest of the city. Paris time zone is 7 hours ahead so I thought it best to proceed to Alsace by tomorrow. I booked us rooms at the Hotel Plaza Athenee.”
“You did?” she replied coolly trying to hide her excitement.
She remembered they weren’t speaking.
“I figured you wouldn’t want to miss out on the Eiffel Tower and the Champs-Elysees on your first day in Paris.”
A hotel service limo was waiting for them as both exited from the plane. A uniformed driver tipped his hat as they approached. “Bonsoir Monsieur Manchester. It’s good to have you back.”
“Good Evening, Charles. I’m glad to be back. This is Miss Hornsby, my travelling companion.”
“Bonsoir Mademoiselle Hornsby.”
“Good Evening,” Carla replied, noting it would be wise to get her hands on a French dictionary.
Charles retrieved their bags and stowed it away inside the trunk of the stretch limo. Carla’s head whirled from side to side as she tried to drink in as much of the city along the way. There was something about the sight, sound, and smell of this place that made her giddy.
Falcon was looking out the window from his side in the limo. It was so thoughtful and considerate of him to even think about showing her the sights before proceeding to Riquewihr, Carla mused.
“We’re here Monsieur, Mademoiselle,” Charles announced as he eased the car into the curb fronting the entrance.
Carla stepped out and gazed at Plaza Athenee. Majestic, elegant, and glamorous were some of the superlatives that came to mind. The elegant edifice had wild ivy climbing and scrambling against the windows where red awnings hung. Potted geranium flowers in full bloom nestled against the iron balcony on every floor.
Carla was mesmerized by the sidewalk. She was transported to a scene in “Sex and the City” and felt like strutting down Avenue Montaigne which was dotted with fabulous boutiques. Fashionably dressed women walked by with armloads of shopping bags.
A bellhop retrieved their bags as Carla shadowed Falcon across the bustling lobby towards the check-in counter.
“Monsieur Manchester, its great to have you back,” a stunning receptionist greeted. Carla thought the blonde batted her eyelashes exceedingly more than she should before the blue eyes acknowledged her presence. The receptionist’s smile lessened in intensity.
“My room is ready?” Falcon asked.
“Oui Monsieur, with the adjoining room as you requested.”
Carla saw fleeting disappointment on the girl’s face.
“How many times has he been here with a woman,” Carla wondered.
Falcon led her to an elevator that hummed silently.
“That woman is attracted to you,” she couldn’t help herself.
Falcon rolled his eyes and snorted. Carla waited for a response but none came. He obviously wasn’t giving her the satisfaction of a response.
The elevator doors opened and Carla was immediately enthralled with the art deco theme that was the hallway. Her heels sunk silently in the plush carpet as they passed series of doorways with brass plates proclaiming the suites’ names.
“This is you,” he announced, handing her a key before proceeding to a door further down.
Carla remembered the receptionist’s comment about adjoining rooms. There had to be access from inside her room to his. The idea was disturbing yet thrilling.
“Falcon?” she hailed before he entered his own room. “Is this okay,” she asked gesturing to her clothes.
“As long as you’re comfortable. But I suggest you change to walking shoes and bring a light jacket. It gets chilly at night.”
The feeling of awesomeness followed as Carla entered the suite. The room was done in shades of gray, mauve, and white. The rich texture of white linen blended perfectly with the mauve in the decorative pillows and then added onto the curtains. The gray upholstery of the sofa sat perfectly with the darker patterns on the throw pillows.
Carla headed for the bathroom and squealed in delight. It was huge, bright, and full of light. The bathtub was in white, similar to the floor, but with gray etchings running across the slabs. Adjacent to the bathroom door was another door. Carla immediately knew this was the door leading to Falcon’s suite. She twisted the knob gently, afraid he would hear, and discovered it was locked.
He has the key from his side of the room,” she concluded.
Carla walked over to the window and was immediately greeted by a miniature view of the Eiffel Tower. She remembered those gift globes that was common in gift shops, the ones that showered white flakes when shaken. It felt so near she could almost touch it.
Remembering her promise to be downstairs in 15 minutes, Carla scrambled back to the room in search of her luggage. She rifled through her shoes and settled for a pair of white sneakers. Remembering Falcon’s comment about the weather turning chilly, she searched for a light sweater before heading out.
Falcon was at the lobby chatting with the receptionist. Carla felt instant jealousy spike inside. She plastered a huge smile on her face as she approached. Falcon saw her and immediately met her halfway.
“Shall we,” he asked offering his elbow.
Carla gladly took it and fervently wished the receptionist was watching as they left the lobby.
Dusk had settled outside creating a magical effect in Carla’s mind. She felt ridiculously happy and lightheaded. Everything felt right, even her arm that was entwined around his elbow.
“Its faster by car, but I assume you prefer to walk,” Falcon commented.
“Yes. Walk!” Carla replied sounding breathy.
Falcon smiled indulgently. Carla stopped every now and then to admire the architectural style of a particular building as they strolled towards Alma-Marceau when the smell of stagnant aroma assailed her senses. She wrinkled her nose. “What’s that smell?”
“It’s the Seine,” Falcon informed her. It tends to announce its presence when the breeze is coming your way. We have to cross the Pont de l’Alma and from there it is a short walk to the Tower.”
Carla didn’t care if it smelled like a sewer. This was Paris and Falcon had taken her hand casually and held on to it as they rushed to get across the bridge. They made their way down to Quai Branley and passed a beautiful church with soaring spires, the Cathedrale de la Sainte Trinite and the Quai Branley museum, famous for its mur vegetal, the vertical gardens, before turning left into a park. They followed a circuitous foot path before finally reaching their destination.
Carla imagined they would stay at the spot and just stare upwards at the tower ablaze in lights. But Falcon pulled her away.
“Where’re we going? We just got here,” Carla complained.
“You’ll get a crick staring at the tower this close. I know a better place,” Falcon replied leading her northward. After a few minutes of brisk walking, they reached an open court yard. Falcon gently took her by the shoulder and turned her around. “This is Place de Trocadero. It offers the best view of the Eiffel,” he whispered.
Carla gasped. He was right. The tower was still close enough to be seen in its full glory. From this short distance, Carla couldn’t see the fabled metallic color because the tower was all lit up.
“Wait for it…wait for it,” Falcon said glancing at his watch.
Carla wondered, when suddenly, the tower burst into life in an amazing light show. It sparkled and shimmered with hundreds of opalescent bulbs while the tip of the tower emitted light beams that lit up the whole city.
For a whole five minutes, Carla was speechless. The kaleidoscope of golden lights pulsing and twinkling, coupled with the light beams shooting waves of light that lit up the city was breathtaking. This had to be one of the most enthralling spectacle she had ever witnessed. After the light show was over, the Iron lady returned to being bathed in golden glow.
“That was beautiful,” Carla said huskily. “Thank you for showing me that.”
It was only then she realized they were still holding hands.
“We should kiss,” Falcon suddenly suggested. “That would make it a total experience for you.”
Carla thought she heard wrong. But Falcon faced her and held both sides of her cheeks then tilted her head before planting a kiss on her lips. It wasn’t a passionate kiss. His lips tenderly brushed against hers before he pulled away.
Whoa. He could do better!
Carla felt embarrassed by the sudden intimacy. Falcon seemed okay with it. She didn’t want to do anything or say anything that would alter the fragile bond they had at the moment. He did go out of his way to show her this.
To mask her embarrassment, she asked instead. “Where to next?”
“Champs- Elysees? Its considered one of the most beautiful avenues in the world. I have reservations at L’Atelier. Arc de Triomphe is nearby so we can do that too before calling it a night.”
“Sounds great,” Carla agreed.
Falcon proved to be a wonderful tour guide. The treelined avenue was home to some of the most coveted fashion names in the world-Louis Vuitton, Mont-Blanc, Guerlain, Ferrari, etc. Carla recognized some of the more familiar brand names like Banana Republic, Abercrombie, and Sephora. Her head spun with an overload of sights that she heaved a sigh when they stood outside the premises of L’Atelier.
Being in the most romantic city in the world with Falcon by her side was hard to wrap her head around. Never in her wildest dreams, she thought. And that kiss after the light show at the Eiffel? It made her glow inside. But her stomach reminded her she hadn’t had a bite to eat except the canapes served in his private jet.
“You hungry?” Falcon asked.
Carla nodded her head enthusiastically. The cocktails were delicious and Carla knew her chicken burger was the most delicious she’d ever tasted. Falcon asked for an assortment of short order dishes – escargot, truffles, fish soaked in butter and peppered with garlic, ravioli and pizza, all exquisite in their preparation.
“This is delicious,” Carla said through mouthfuls of ravioli before drowning it down with sweet lemonade. “I’m such a pig,” she giggled as Falcon reached out and wiped sauce dripping down the side of her mouth.
“Paris has that effect on most people. You literally want to gobble up everything,” Falcon laughed.
After dinner they strolled over to the Arc de Triomphe. Carla was glad for the exercise because she knew she ate too much. The steps leading to the top of the Arc made her pant but it was all worth it. The view of Paris at night from the top of the Arc was truly amazing.
It was an experience Carla knew she would never forget. Paris has so many sights to offer it was impossible to see them all in just one night.
“Its way past midnight. We should be heading back to the hotel,” Falcon announced. “We leave for Alsace early tomorrow morning.”
Carla tried to suppress her disappointment. She didn’t want the night to end but Falcon was right. She was here to do a job. She vowed to return someday.
Falcon was quiet on the way back to the hotel. Carla sensed a certain formality about him that wasn’t there earlier. It was almost like he was withdrawing away from her.
“Good night,” Carla said as he dropped her off outside her bedroom door.
“Good night, Carla. Sleep well,” Falcon replied before heading towards his own room.
In the solitude of her suite, Carla wondered if Falcon would cross the door of the adjoining rooms. Right now, she knew she wanted that. She was willing to accept whatever little he had to offer.
“To hell with the consequences,” she thought staring longingly at the door.
As the minutes ticked by, Carla kissed the wishful thinking away, blaming herself entirely for allowing him to think that what happened between them in the past was nothing. He probably didn’t want to risk wounding his ego.
But Paris had cast its spell upon her. Although she tried to deny it, a tinge of optimism had sprouted in her chest. She wasn’t really sure how to label it, but it felt like there was some kind of hope in the future, a future that would include both her baby and Falcon.