Page 14 of Pampered in Paris

I say goodbye to everyone as I head out. When I leave the restaurant, I fully intend to go straight to Anne’s place, but lost in thought, I find myself at theLe Cordon Bleumain building.

If it is love, then it’s worth the risk.

Chapter 7

Anne

Alexandreand I spent the whole day trekking around Paris. Clad in another floral sleeveless sundress and comfortable sandals, I felt less like a tourist and more like a true Parisienne as I walked around with him. He held my hand or guided me through crowds by holding my waist close to him. There was a street festival and we tried a lot of samples, including some very moldy cheese and fresh oysters.

He was kind and stifled his laugh when I misspoke to one of the vendors. Another case of mispronunciation on my part. I asked forbeaucoup de chocolatsand after some very confused looks, Alexandre took over. When walking away, he explained that my pronunciation of beaucoup was closer tobeau cul, which means that I asked the vendor for a “nice ass of chocolates.”

Hopefully my skin is sun-kissed enough to cover my mortification and blushing. I find myself in awe of Alexandre and want so badly to impress him, to have his full attention.

Is this falling in love?

I shake my head, trying to dump all those thoughts out. Even if it’s love, I’m not staying in Paris. This is only a vacation. The honeymoon I never got to take and a treat to myself for how far I’ve come.

I could send in my pastry school application.

I’d stay in Paris if I got accepted. I took it on a whim while still on the excited high of the conference, but now I’m seriously considering applying. It’s not like Violet actually needs me in Kastle Harbor. She can handle the bakery’s needs all on her own. I love my family, but how much do we even see other now? It’s all phone calls and texts.

“What are you thinking about so hard for your frown to be like that,mon trésor?” Alexandre’s velvety voice pulls me from my thoughts. I look around. We’re back at my place, in front of my door.

Did I really zone out the whole metro ride?

“Trying to figure out what my favorite part of today was,” I lie, hoping he can’t tell.

Why bother him with my ideas of the future? We enter my place and I take my shoes off. I want to swap them for different flats before we head to dinner.

“Tricky.” He takes my hands and pulls to him. “How can I pick one moment with you?” He kisses my forehead before letting go of my hands. His words send a little shiver through me. Goosebumps form on my arms.

Which reminds me that I need to grab a sweater. The summer days might be hot but it’s been chilly these past few nights.

“Where are we eating?” I ask him as I try to figure out which shoes to wear.

“I thought I could cook for you tonight, and then if you’re free tomorrow night, I can take you out to somewhere fancy.”

I’m speechless. First, he’s going to cook for me so that means I’m going to see his place. Am I going to sleep over? Do I need to pack a tote bag with a toothbrush? Second, a third night in a row that he’s off work. Was he already off? Did he take off? What is happening? My brain can’t handle all these questions.

Pick a path and take it.

“Sounds great. Dinner at your place tonight and a fancy restaurant tomorrow.” I pull my sweater on and slip into flats. “I’m ready then.”

“Not to be too presumptuous, but you may want to bring an overnight bag.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “I’m happy to walk you home but I fear that some French dinners can leave one feeling quite stuffed.” He pats his stomach. I know there’s nothing but muscle beneath, and lick my lips as I think about spending the night with him once more.

Perhaps we’re both in this little bubble of lust.

I can’t help but grin at his response before packing a tote bag with a few basic items. In addition to my toothbrush and hairbrush, I toss in a pair of underwear and a bra for tomorrow morning. I’m fine with wearing my outfit again. But the weather’s been too nice and my body gets so sweaty, a clean set of undergarments is needed.

We make it to Alexandre’s place in no time. His apartment is spacious, despite having only one bedroom. The bathroom is on the smaller side but he has a patio, large windows, and quite the kitchen. His furniture is a mix of dark wood and silver metals. The color scheme is navy and grey, with the textures rounding it all out. There don’t seem to be any patterns or funky splashes of color anywhere.

Come to think of it, so far, all his clothing has also been basics and solids.

This simplistic style fits him like a well-tailored suit.

“Okay, you relax and watch me cook for you.” He guides me to the stools at the kitchen island. His kitchen is all marble, the swirls of grey and cream mesmerizing to look at, though not quite like watching Alexandre start to cook.

“What’s on the menu?” I wiggle in my seat, trying to peek at everything he’s laid out on the countertop. “And are you sure I can’t help?” He’s tied an apron on and started dicing onions.

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