The doctor proceeded to ask her full name, where she lived, what she did for a living. All of those were easy to answer. She may have fibbed that she was still employed.
“How long have you been in Paris?”
“Just a day. I think. What day is it? The twenty-fifth?”
“Yes, June twenty-fifth. Good. Where are you staying in Paris?”
“Um...a hotel. It’s very pretty, very posh.”
“Do you remember the name?”
“Ahh...l’hotel...d’something?” Jasmine bit her lip. “I can’t remember, but it’s near the Eiffel Tower.”
The doctor raised a single brow. “I see. So, what brought you to Paris?”
“It’s my honeymoon.”
The man straightened. “And where is your husband, madame?”
“My husband?” Jasmine put a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry. No. It’s not my honeymoon.” She shook her head and then wished she hadn’t. “I’m not married. I just always wanted to come to Paris on my honeymoon.” The words came out in a flurry.
“So, are you here with anyone?”
“Um...no. Just me. By myself.” Jasmine was vaguely aware of the doctor getting up and going to speak quietly to the man who had been observing from the corner of the room.
“What happened to me?” Jasmine asked.
The doctor didn’t answer as the conversation between the two men increased in volume. Were they arguing? Over what? Surely not her?
“Excuse me?” She waved. “Hello?”
Still the men did not respond. The doctor was gesturing at her and speaking rapidly in French. The other man made some guttural remarks and then threw his hands in the air.
“Hey,” Jasmine called. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”
“Oui, bien sûr.”The doctor turned toward her. “We were just discussing your situation. You have a mild concussion. It’s nothing to worry about. However, you must be observed for twenty-four hours.” He glanced back at the man in the corner. “I can take you to the hospital—but you have no passport.”
“Oh, yes I do,” Jasmine said. “It’s in my bag.”
“And where is your bag, mademoiselle?”
“It’s—” She bit her lip. Blinked. “Isn’t it here?”
The doctor turned to speak quietly to the other man who answered quickly. “Non. You have nothing here except for what you are wearing.”
“Really?” Where the hell was her bag? It would have everything. Her phone, her hotel key, her ID, Parker’s credit cards!
Dammit!
“So,” Jasmine said slowly, “what will happen to me if I go to the hospital?”
“You will be asked to show identification and because you don’t have any, they will have to contact the embassy and your next of kin.”
Jasmine held up her hand. “No.” The last thing she needed was to have to contact her parents, or worse, Parker, and ask for help after being in Paris only one day. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. Absolutely not an option.
“What are my other choices?”
“That you stay here. My friend has kindly offered to observe you for twenty-four hours.”