Page 16 of Pampered in Paris

“I got in?” Her eyes are prickled with tears. “This should be an amazing experience for me but you’ve ruined it. I don’t want to see you again.” She slams the door shut behind her as she leaves.

I’m stunned. I didn’t think she’d leave. I thought she’d be ecstatic to get accepted. I pictured us talking about her moving to Paris in the fall over dinner and then celebrating properly tomorrow night.

I thought she felt the way I do.

I was ready to take a risk, and she wasn’t.

It takes everything in my body to keep from going after her, my fists and jaw clenched as I debate what to do.

Chapter 8

Anne

In an effort tonot think about Alexandre, or the pastry school acceptance, I have decided to walk up and down theChamps-Élyséestoday. I want to stand on the top of theArc de Triompheand see all of Paris. Alexandre said it’s one of the best views.

I look at my watch, noting the time difference and go ahead and text my mom to call me when she’s up. My bag is packed for a full day of exploring the city, and I intend to tire myself out so much that I will fall asleep the moment my head hits my pillow tonight.

No ugly crying in the shower like last night.

As I pass theLaduréesweets shop, I immediately have to go in. In addition to chocolates, cakes, and other pastries, they have dozens of rows of colorful macarons. The worker is polite and helpful. My very limited French and her limited English gets the process done. In no time, I have a big box with a good mix of classic, seasonal, and unusual flavors. I had to get chocolate, pistachio, and lemon. But I couldn’t help myself and also got lime ginger, mango cardamom, and orange blossom.

I take my goods and head on my way to theArc de Triomphe. During my walk, my mom calls me. I bite my lip, feeling the small jolt of pain. I’m not sure how much I want to share withher. Certainly not the romance bits but at least the pastry school acceptance.

“Is everything okay? Why the sudden call?” I pull the phone away from my ear. She’s so loud.

“Everything is fine. I wanted to tell you some good news.”

“Are you getting your old job back when you come home?”

“No, I told you I’m done with working in marketing. I want to bake and learn how to be a pastry chef. That’s what I’m calling about though. I applied to pastry school.”

“Where? In New York City? It’s not as good as going back to your well-paid and stable job, but I suppose you could still patch things up with your ex-husband and try again.”

“No, Mom. I applied to one here in Paris. And I got in!” I’m not even going to touch the topic of repairing the relationship with my ex-husband.

“You shouldn’t have wasted your time on that. Your family is here in Maine. Your sister is going to have a second kid; that’s what you should be focused on. Not learning to make croissants or whatnot.”

“I’m not her, Mom. We want different things in life.”

“You’re over thirty, Anne. You should be married, excelling in your career, and raising a family. I know it hurts or seems unfair, sweetheart, but it’s how the world works.”

“It’s not what I want though, Mom.” I can feel the tears building up again.

“Honey, you’ll be fine. Visit us when you’re back in Maine. I need to go. I’m meeting your sister for lunch. Love you.” She hangs up before I can even tell her I love her, too.

I’m not my sister. I’m my own person. With my own goals. I wanted my mom to be excited about the pastry school. To help me feel as if I’m on the right path. But she’s only added to the headache that’s coming from all of this.

I need advice from someone in the field. I want to talk to Alexandre, but I’m not ready. I text Violet and hope that she can offer me some guidance. I turn for the pathway along the Seine instead of heading to the Arc de Triomphe. Even if it is the best view of Paris, my mood would spoil it.

I find a shady place along the river and sit on a bench. There are an abundance of boats floating along. Some look like houseboats and others are full of sight-seeing tourists like myself. I start to eat the macarons. I try to only eat the ones I have doubles of, but I’ve already eaten seven when Violet calls me.

“How is the city of love treating you, my friend?”

“Everything is a mess and I don’t know what to do.” My voice cracks.

“Slow down Anne. What happened?”

I fill Violet in on my whirlwind romance with Alexandre and the application fiasco that’s happened over the past few days. It’s still hard to believe that so much has happened in such a short amount of time. Violet asks me a couple of questions and makes a few little sounds of acknowledgement before getting right to the point. Her straightforwardness is one of the things I love about her as a friend.

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