Page 13 of Pampered in Paris

Plus, maybe if she gets accepted, she’ll stay.

This is crazy. I can’t just play with her life like this.

But the what-ifs are piling up and I need to decide now.

I take the application and leave. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, I’m going to head to the restaurant. I text François as soon as I’m on the metro to let him know that I’ll be swinging by for some snacks and relationship advice. He replies with a string of emojis that I don’t even try to decipher.

I run my fingers through my hair. If Anne stays in Paris, we could take this little vacation fling and turn it into the real deal.

I enterthe restaurant and notice that about half the tables are full. There’s a lot of chatter and the smell of garlic and fresh bread is really strong today. I wonder what the special of the day is to require so much garlic. While the restaurant isn’t jam-packed, it’s decently busy for the hour.

Good, this will keep François on track.

Hopefully he’ll help me out quickly so I can go meet with Anne. I don’t want to waste any time. I head straight to the back and enter the kitchen, greeting everyone on the way.

“There’s our Casanova,” François hollers from the line. He’s stirring a large pot. And from the looks of it, it’ll be a very rich and creamy fish stew. I take a closer smell and my stomach grumbles in response.

“Smells good. Can I taste?” I don’t wait for a response. I get a bowl from nearby and hand it to him. He scoops a small bite for me. It’s the right mix of salty and savory. I wish I could bring a to-go cup for Anne, but soup isn’t exactly a walking snack.

There’s a chance there’ll be another time.

“What’s up, Alex? You never take days off.” He continues to stir and adds some parsley to the mix. I finish the small bit of soup and set the bowl down.

I tell him about the past few days that I’ve spent with Anne and our dates. I don’t go into too much detail, but I do describe how I’m feeling about her despite the short amount of time we’ve spent together.

“I think I really am falling in love.” I comb my fingers through my hair. “And I don’t know about this pastry school application. Do I ask her about it? Do I go ahead and submit it as a surprise? Usually, I know exactly what to do, or pick a path and go down it.”

My gut feels all twisted up inside, as if I swallowed a bunch of seaweed and it got tangled up on the way to my stomach.

“First of all, you’ve known her what…” He squints at me. “…like three days? That’s not love, mate, that’s lust. You can’t be thinking about love already. I mean, hell, how long did it take you to say those three little words to that one girl you dated a few years back?”

I mull over his words. “I was dating her for almost a year before we discussed anything serious.”

“Exactly, and then you broke up like two weeks later. Clearly neither of you were actually in love, but that’s my point.” He takes a clean ladle and scoops a bit of the soup for me to taste. “Do I need more salt?” I take the spoon.

Cooking, tasting, experimenting in the kitchen – this is where I shine. Where I can make fast decisions and not look back. Relationships are a whole different beast.

I’ve known Anne for a handful of days, almost as long as it takes to make a good Toulouse-style Cassoulet. Yet, talking to François makes me realize that this is the first time I’ve felt so strongly about another person. I want to cook for her and showher around the city I call home. I want her to fall in love with it. And me.

I want her to stay in Paris. I want to stay here with her.

I’m not even going to bring up Spain with François now. First things first, I need advice on how to handle Anne’sLe Cordon Bleuapplication.

“Just a smidge of salt.” I hand the salt container over. “Okay, so maybe it’s too soon to think about love. But what about the pastry school application?”

“Ask her about it, and for the love of God, return it without her noticing.” He points his spoon at me, enunciating the last words.

“Okay, fine.” I cross my arms as I continue to think about the possibilities.

“When do you see her next?”

“In about an hour, actually. I just came by for some small bites and then I’m heading to her place.”

“Good. You can return those papers.” He places his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. “It’s not love, Alex. No one falls in love this quick.Un coup de foudreisn’t a thing. And don’t think that this whole fling thing is going to postpone our discussion on Spain. I need your answer by the end of the week so we can work out the logistics.”

I can’t think about Spain right now.

“Sure, I’ll get back to you this week.” I grumble my appreciation and then collect a few items for later. Baguette slices, a small square of butter, some candied almonds, and other charcuterie board-type of foods.

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