Page 74 of Crazy In Love
“We can’t go to Paris tomorrow.”
He picked up his phone and glanced at the screen before holding it up to me. “Sure we can. My pilot Lars is preparing for the trip now.”
“We can’t just fly to Paris to see a fireplace mantel.”
He moved closer, stopping just in front of me. “I have business there, and I was planning a trip anyway. I just didn’t think I’d be going until after the holidays. This works out fine for me. Can you not get Beatrice to cover for you?”
“Yes. Of course I can. But, I mean, it’s Paris.”
“Have you never been?” he asked. He moved back to the kitchen, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and held one up to me. I shook my head no. My mind was spinning. I wasn’t thinking about having a beer.
“No. When would I have been to Paris? I went from home to college to running a flower shop. I don’t own a private plane and jet-set around on the weekends.” I threw my hands in the air.
“Well, lucky for you, I do. And you said you weren’t comfortable purchasing the mantel without seeing it. So, we’ll fly to Paris, I’ll schedule my meeting for the following morning, and you can use that time to sightsee, and then we’ll go check out the mantel in the afternoon. We can fly home the following day.” He said it like it was no big deal.
“We’re going to Paris tomorrow for two nights?” I asked, making it obvious that the idea was ludicrous.
“Correct.”
“Where will we stay?” I paced in a circle as my mind spun. “Wait. I have some Marriott reward points I could use.”
“Not necessary. Brenner is getting it booked now. I always stay at the same place, and he’ll get us each a room there.”
I blinked up at him multiple times, as if I couldn’t process his words.
“Emilia, relax. You like the mantel, and you want to see it. I have business in Paris that I need to take care of. We’ll be back in no time, and you’ll have the statement piece you’ve been looking for.”
“I have the guys coming tomorrow to start cutting the drywall to add the arches,” I said.
He took a short beat to consider the dilemma. “I’ll have Brenner work from my house tomorrow. Is there anything else?”
No. No, there isn’t.
I was going to freaking Paris in the morning.
Paris, France.
A place that had been on my bucket list ever since my freshman year in college, when my professor had us choose a location that inspired our love of design. I’d spent hours online researching, and Paris was the obvious choice, from the landscape and natural beauty to the history and architecture it offered.
“No. I’m texting Beatrice now,” I said, typing frantically into my phone, knowing she was going to freak out on my behalf.
She answered immediately, of course.
All the excited emojis.
Endless exclamation marks.
And she said she had it covered.
“Okay, I can do this. I need to pack. I need to check the weather. I need to email the owner of the antique store. My God, what if he isn’t open. What if we can’t get in. We don’t have a plan.” The words were coming out frantic, as I was fully spiraling now.
He walked back over to me, eyebrows cinched together as if I was the most confusing person on the planet and he was trying to figure me out.
I’m sorry, but most people wouldn’t just casually go to Paris on a whim.
It’s something you plan for months ahead of time.
“We have a plan. We’re going to Paris tomorrow. Trust me, the owner of the antique store will be thrilled to move an expensive piece. Just send them a message, and we’ll make it happen.”
