Page 80 of The Loophole

We both thanked him, and as Bryson paid for our purchase, they lapsed back into French. I could only pick out a word or two, but I just loved listening to the rhythm and flow.

After we left the shop, I asked, “What did he send with us today?”

“I didn’t ask. He seemed happy when I raved about the Napoleons he saved for us yesterday.”

“Those were crazy-good. I’d say we should try making them for our café, but I bet it’s tough to create all those light, flaky layers.”

“It’s nothing we can’t handle.”

I smiled at Bryson and told him, “I’ve always appreciated your confidence.”

I took his hand again, and as we crossed the Seine on a gorgeous, ornate bridge, I said, “I really hope we come back to Paris someday. I know we still have a few days left, but I feel like we’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“Of course, baby. We can come back every year if you want to.”

“Really?”

“Sure. We’ve learned that the café can run perfectly well in our absence, thanks to our amazing staff, so there’s no reason not to take regular vacations.”

For the first three or four months that the café was open, we’d acted like parents with a new baby and were always there. It was closed on Sundays, and eventually we started taking Mondays off and leaving everything in the hands of our very capable staff.

They did so well that it gave us the confidence to take this month-long trip. We’d closed down custom cake orders while we were away, because I took pride in doing the decorating myself. But other than that, it was business as usual during our absence.

It still amazed me how quickly the café had come together, thanks in part to the previous owner, who’d made great choices and done the majority of the work to build it out. We’d named it Baudelaire, not after ourselves, but after Bryson’s dad and grandfather, and we’d gone to work right away perfecting recipes for our ever-changing menu. Finally, after several weeks of preparation, we’d opened the doors and were astonished by the overwhelmingly positive response.

It was so much more than I ever could have hoped for, and the very best part of it was getting to work beside Bryson every day. I never knew it was possible to love someone as much as I loved him, and I’d never thought anyone could love me as fully and unconditionally as he did. He also truly believed in me, and that gave me the boost of confidence I needed to start believing in myself.

Once we got back to our hotel room, we tumbled into bed and ended up enjoying each other for hours. We dozed off after that, buck naked and with big, goofy grins on our faces.

When we woke up, the clock on the nightstand caught my eye. I climbed on top of my husband and gave him a big kiss before exclaiming, “It’s two minutes past midnight! Happy birthday, Bry!”

“Thanks. It’s a great one so far.”

I chuckled at that and tumbled out of bed. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” I rushed to find the candle and matches I’dbrought with us. Then I opened the box from the bakery, which contained two perfect little lemon tarts.

I stuck a lit candle in one of them and returned to the bed with it while singing the birthday song. Bryson grinned as he put on his glasses, and I said, “Make a wish.” After he blew out the candle, I asked, “What did you wish for?”

“Nothing.” He took the dessert from me and put it on the nightstand before drawing me into his arms. “I already have everything I could possibly want.”

The End

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