Page 3 of Je T'aime, Actually
Monroe met her gaze and unexpectedly felt something beat harder in her chest.
A moment of understanding, maybe.
“So,” she said, steering gently away from herself and her issues, “what do you do when you’re not being forced to take coastal holidays?”
“I run a small press,” Chloé said. “We publish short fiction, poetry, books that don’t shout. A lot of LGBTQ, POC. It’s niche, but beautiful work.”
“That sounds…kind of lovely,” Monroe said. “A little world made of words.”
Chloé looked at her then, surprised and visibly pleased. “Yes. Exactly that.”
In the gentle buzz of the waiting area, passengers murmuring around them, announcements crackling overhead, Chloé added, her smile lingering, “This is nicer than I expected.”
Monroe arched a brow. “Waiting at an airport?”
“No,” Chloé said, eyes warm. “You.”
two
They boarded side by side—a little surprised, though neither said so—when their seat numbers landed them in the same row. Monroe was seated by the window, Chloé settling in beside her.
“Well,” Chloé said as she fastened her seatbelt, “looks like fate enjoys a bit of continuity.”
Monroe smiled, low-key amused. “Or the airline just groups all the solo women together so we don’t scare the businessmen.”
Chloé laughed, soft and genuine. “A thoughtful system.”
As the plane taxied out, they fell into a companionable silence—the kind that didn’t need filling with small talk.
Monroe stared out the window for a while, letting the countryside slip away beneath the clouds as the plane soared into the afternoon sky.
It was Chloé who broke the quiet again, her voice low, almost hesitant.
“Do you love what you do?”
Monroe tilted her head slightly. “That’s not the kind of question I usually get asked on a plane.”
Chloé smiled, unfazed. “Fair enough. But I am curious.”
Monroe thought about it for a second. “I’m an accountant.”
Chloé blinked, then gave an apologetic little wince. “Ah.”
“Exactly,” Monroe said with a dry smile. “It’s not terribly romantic, is it?”
“I’m sure it has its charms.”
“If it does, they’re hidden well.”
Chloé laughed again. “But you’re good at it?”
“I’m very good at it,” Monroe said, a little sharper than she meant to. Then she softened. “It pays the bills. It gives me flexibility. And it keeps me out of trouble.”
“Mm,” Chloé said, tilting her head. “You don’t strike me as someone who causes trouble.”
Monroe gave a small snort. “You haven’t seen my browser history.”
Chloé chuckled. “I’ll take your word for it.”
