Page 47 of Meet Me in Paris

“Is there a problem?” Claude asked. He wore a smooth expression, but I could see the impatience in his stance. The man probably had a hundred places to be. Lots of single American tourists to “help,” surely.

He’d been a different person today. Stiff and distant. It seemed the charming womanizer remained in the past now that he knew I would no longer fall for his act. Fine with me.

“No problem at all.” I picked up the pen and read through the contract again. It was in English, fortunately.

The vision of Hunter and I spending time here dimmeda bit. Did I dare rent a home when things were up in the air between us? Could I plan a future with him if I couldn’t even have a conversation with him? Could I make plans knowing he was with another woman right this second?

Put that down and talk to me, Hunter. You owe me an explanation.

It had to be Collette. Nobody else would talk to him like that. Were they discussing his moving out? But no, he said they had an agreement. So why did the woman sound upset? Unless his understanding of their status differed from hers.

Unless they hadn’t broken up after all.

But the ring,I thought desperately. I found it in that drawer. She’d be wearing it if they were still engaged. Wouldn’t she?

A half dozen scenarios played out in my mind, none of which ended well, and I found myself looking around this beautiful dining room in this beautiful city, asking myself an important question.

Did I love Paris enough to live here without Hunter?

I loved Paris, and I loved Hunter. I wanted both. But could I truly enjoy Paris without thinking about him at every turn, overcome by memories of him? Could I live a normal life while watching over my shoulder, hoping I wouldn’t run into him but also secretly hoping I would? Knowing every word he said to me yesterday was a lie? Trying to start over while still tethered to the past in the biggest way possible?

Stop it,I ordered myself. Jillian was right. I tended to get dramatic about things. Hunter and I were in love, and that required trust. I would let him sort everything out and come back when he was ready.

“Do you have any questions?” Claude asked, checking his expensive watch.

I trust you, Hunter. Don’t let me down.

“No, I’m fine.” I skipped to the last page of the document and signed my name in scrolling cursive, then dated it.

Done.

“Excellent,” Claude said. “You must have your bank transfer the deposit and rent to the account on the contract within twenty-four hours to keep it. Once that has been received, the townhouse will be yours after the first of the month.”

To my surprise, Alexis appeared at my side. “Time for a trip to the café nearby to celebrate. My treat.”

When we reached the hotel lobby, my sisters and I chattered with excitement. Not until we saw Hunter standing across the room did our conversation die a horrible, sudden death.

“They’re holding our baggage for us in the back,” I told them, meeting Hunter’s solemn stare. “I’ll meet you back here in five minutes.”

My sisters disappeared, and we found ourselves alone.

“Did you really go off with Claude this morning?” he hissed. “And you brought your sisters along, no less. Do you know how dangerous that could have been?”

“It’s kind of hard to tour homes without physically being there,” I pointed out. “Claude was a perfect gentleman, and I made sure none of us were alone for a second.”

“Even so. You know what I think of him.”

Ifolded my arms. “At least Claude showed up when he said he would.”

Hunter’s eyes flashed, and I reminded myself that we were getting on a plane soon. I didn’t want to spend our last moments fighting.

I let the anger fizzle away. “Look, Claude found the perfect place for me, and I signed the contract. I’m moving here next month.”

His mouth tightened.

That was it.

No smile, no congratulations. No hug or exuberant spilling of future plans together. Just pursed lips that said he felt displeased.

---