It sucks being single in the city of looming lovers.

And seeing couples all in love, walking the streets of Paris together in the rain only makes it worse.

Damn you, Dixie. Damn that fucking Date Me, Then Marry Me.

Can you believe my agent keeps calling me? I haven’t bothered to return any of his calls yet. And I won’t listen to any of his voicemails. He’s probably trying to get me to do another lame reality show. I’m on a break from all of that, unsure if being in the starlight is for me anymore. For now anyway.

I kinda like this role.

Driver.

A mere nobody.

When Lauren’s assistant asked me if I’d been on a reality show, I almost froze.

But, like the actor I am, I played it cool, slugging back the last of my water, then gave a calm and convincing “Nah.”

What are the odds he’s somehow streamed that show?

About the same as the odds that Lauren is the babe you bumped into at the airport, you idiot.

I wonder if anyone else’s conscience is as big of a dick as mine.

After I dropped Icy Hot Princess off, I drove around, almost getting lost in the city, people-watched at a local café, then finally came home where Gramps and Nana are staring at me, smiles plastered to their always jovial faces, eager to interrogate me about my first day on the job.

I should have gone straight to the guest apartment. I’m in no mood for questions.

“Come, sit with us,” Nana says, patting the seat of an empty chair at the round, café-style table situated in the corner of the kitchen. It opens up to a terrace overlooking Nana’s vegetable garden. Not that I can see it now. It’s pretty dark outside, save the iridescent glow bouncing off the tea lights strung over the lattice roof of the terrace.

I remove my hat, and ease down onto a cushy chair across from the two of them, both of their eyes gleaming as they sip on wine. Besides the business office being conveniently located in the basement, there is also Gramps’s cellar filled with bottles upon bottles of wine he used to sell when he had the import/export business. Now, he and Nana open one bottle a day, guzzling down a couple of glasses, paired with cubes of cheese and sweet grapes, before going to bed.

Seeing them together, still very much in love, makes my heart flicker. Sure, my own mom and dad are still very much in love too, but for whatever reason, Nana and Gramps’s love for each other lunges at me like a 3D cinema.

“So, how was your first day?” Gramps asks, offering me a cube of cheese.

With a wave of my hand, I pass on the cheese. I’m pretty stuffed from the burger I had for lunch and the small pastry I had at the street café before I came home. “It was okay.” I say, resting my elbows on the table.

Nana traces the rim of the wine glass with her index finger, her eyes fixed on mine. “Why just okay?”

I shrug. “You know, just okay. It started off bad, when I ran over Icy Hot’s”—I pause—“I mean Lauren’s phone. The phone that skidded across the cement and onto the street, after she took a tumble on the sidewalk.”

Two sets of WTF? eyes stare back at me. Incredulous. Curious.

“Oh and that’s not the worst of it,” I add. “When Lauren went down, her skirt went up, showcasing a pretty nice-looking b—”

“Oh my word,” Nana squeals, while Gramps leans back in his seat, the look of shock and awe painted all over his face.

A few seconds, maybe ten, twenty, or sixty pass, the sound of the tick, tock, tick from the kitchen wall clock is magnified by the silence permeating the room.

Now leaning forward, his fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass, Gramps says, “Well if anything, that is definitely a unique beginning to a day. And how did it go from there, better right? I mean considering it was already downhill at that point.”

I sigh, threading my fingers through my hair. “Nope. You see, it turns out”—I shake my head, scoffing at the ridiculousness of it all—“I’ve had the pleasure of bumping into Lauren Blake once before.”

Nana’s eyes widen.

Gramps blinks.

The clock ticks.

I roll my shoulders to ease the tension.

All that’s missing is a bright light shining down on my face and a couple of detectives staring down at me.

“See, when I landed in Paris, all fascinated by the ambiance of actually being in France, I wandered aimlessly through the airport corridor, taking my time as I made my way to baggage claim. People were scrambling about, running to make their planes and some dude brushed my shoulder and when I spun back around, I bumped into her: this beautiful dark-haired woman with the most amazing blue eyes I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Gramps and Nana exchange a look, then both turn their focus back to me.

“The two of us stood looking at each other in silence, and then she took off, dropping her scarf as she scurried away. I still have the scarf, by the way.”

Nana brings her hand to her heart, eyes glistening, as she tilts her head to the side, her lips parting into a grin. “Oh Jaxson. It’s like a scene fit for one of the books in my series of romance novels.

“So, I thought I’d never see her again, until today.”

“Did she recognize you? Did you tell her about the day at the airport?” Gramps asks, still tracing the rim of his glass.

I shake my head. “Absolutely not, Gramps. For one, she was recovering from an embarrassing fall, where I played it off like I didn’t see that sweet a”—I clear my throat—“I mean her bottom. But more importantly, I don’t want her to know who I really am. I don’t want anyone to know who I am. I came to Paris to escape the celebrity-type life of Jaxson Malone. So I told her my name is Jack Maloney.”

Nana giggles. “Jack Maloney? Okay…what if she recognizes you?”

I shake me head. “That’s where this hat and my dark shades come in handy”—I rub the stubble growing on my face—“along with my new beard. Besides, since I’ve been here, no one has recognized me. I’m a nobody here, which is fine with me.”

I leave out the fact that Lauren’s assistant asked me if I was on a reality show. I don’t want to add more to this interrogation session, plus I had time to think about the incident while I was people-watching at the street café. Out of the many people that have seen me here in Paris, he is the only one who may have recognized me. Even though I was equipped with the hat and shades.

Both Gramps and Nana flatten their lips and nod, proving two lovebirds can indeed act as though they are one person.

“And what do you think about taking over Chic Limos? Do I need to sell it? Or are you game?”

Gramps’s inquiry leaves my mouth craving a glass of his vintage wine.

Am I game?

Well, what else do I have going on in Paris?

That’s right, a big fat nothing. Rien as they say in French.

“I’m here for you, Gramps. I will gladly take over the business, whenever you’re ready to cut the cord.”

A victory-laced squeal escapes Nana’s mouth as the two exchange giddy glances.

“Consider the cord cut. When we met with the realtor today, we were shown a spectacular space for Nana’s art gallery near the small villa we purchased in Marseille, a three-hour train ride from here.”

My eyes bug out as I slump into the back of the chair. “W-what about this house? The office space here? Heck, what about me?”

Sure, I can leave here, find a place on my own; I’ve got enough funds from the sale of the Porsche, residuals from a few TV shows I was in, and the money I made from Date Me, Then Marry Me, as the star contestant, plus the dough Wake Up America and The Scoop paid me for interviews. But this villa is starting to grow on me—it’s like a haven of peace. Lush. Private.

“We want you to stay here of course, Grandson.” Gramps says, shifting in his seat. “We wouldn’t think of getting rid of this place, it’s been home for us since we came back here to live twenty years ago. It’s all paid off now, of course, and while we truly love it here, we are ready to move south and enjoy yet another chapter in our lives. As our only grandchild, the plan was for you to inherit all of this anyway. Just think of this as an advance inheritance.”

I allow myself to grin as I, once again, thread my fingers through my hair. “I-uh, I really don’t know what to say besides thank you, of course.”

What else is there left to say? It’s an awful lot to take in.

Nana smiles, reaching across the table, placing the palm of her hand on the back of mine. “Jaxson, my dear, your grandpa and I have been dying for you to finally make it here to Paris. We were convinced once you saw it, lived it, breathed it, you’d fall head over heels in love with it. You didn’t need a petty show like Date Me, Then Marry Me to find someone to fall in love with. I’m sure your forever gal is here…somewhere in Paris, just as eager to fall in love as you are.”

Her words pour over my heart like caramel sauce.

Thick. Rich. Sweet.

And when I think of someone here in Paris being my forever gal, the only face I see belongs to Icy Hot Princess.