Page 23 of The Paris Roommates: Dean
“You mentioned her husband being gone. How long has it been?”
“He died ten years ago. I wish I’d known him. Brooke did, and she said he was wonderful. Quiet. Strong. Elegant. His death is what led Nanine to post an ad for international students who might like to work at her restaurant in exchange for room and board. Our relationship is the perfect example of something good coming out of something horrible.”
“That’s a wonderful story, the kind that gives me hope.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I’m glad for all of you. Well, I should probably go…”
He hoped that was reluctance he heard in her voice. “We haven’t reached any conclusions about visitation. Like I said, let’s figure out a time for you to see Pierre. How about that picnic I mentioned earlier? Would Friday at one work for you? Just something easy in the park of your choice. Pierre alluded to you being in Hong Kong.”
“Yes, I was working in a French restaurant there,” she answered.
“Well, I can’t wait to hear more about it. I’ve always wanted to go there. It’s got a strong link to San Francisco, where I’m from.”
Her brows lifted. “I worked there too.”
He bit his lip to keep from saying he’d already known. “Cool! Then we’ll have a lot to talk about. So where would you like to go? I’m sure there are places you’ve been missing.”
The reserve she’d first had around him returned, and her face closed up as though memories were flickering through her mind. She’d lost her parents—and her parrot (sort of). She’d returned to Paris after a long absence. Based on his “research,” she’d been traveling since she was nineteen. Twelve years was a long time to be on the move, and things had to be different, right?
“Yes, I’ve been gone a while,” she replied without offering more details. “All right. One o’clock. Friday. Luxembourg Gardens. By the Medici Fountain.”
“Is there anything you especially like?” Dean asked, making her brow knit. “Ah…something comforting,” he clarified. “That would make you feel at home? For the picnic, of course.”
God, was he babbling? He flashed a smile to cover up his total lack of suaveness. Good thing Kyle wasn’t here to see this. Golden Boy would enjoy this pitiful display. He would never make a wrong move with a girl.
“That’s very kind of you, but I can bring my own lunch to the picnic,” Jacqueline said, rising from her chair. “I’ll…see you Friday.”
He thought of the cave viewing—something she hadn’t mentioned. Maybe she didn’t know they were one of the prospective buyers yet? Or maybe she wanted to keep things separate? Either way, he was calling the shop to make sure that was still a go. “Not unless I see you first,” he said with a wink.
Somehow that killer combination made her smile, and he didn’t have enough brain cells in the face of her radiance to wonder why. He found himself smiling back, his head a little fuzzy. He simply kept looking at her, and she at him, both of them smiling.
“You really are unlike any man I’ve ever met—and in a good way.”
“Thank you,” he nearly sputtered.
When she tucked a lock of her hair over her shoulder, his mouth dried up. He caught her scent again, a heady combination of woman and musk. Those brain cells sizzled and combusted, happy casualties of his attraction to her.
She finally took control of her mouth, pulling in the edges of her grin until it was merely an indulgent smile. “À tout à l’heure, Dean.Au revoir, Pierre.”
His accent was a trainwreck of badly pronounced vowels as he repeated her original phrase, and when she left, her smile had expanded again—to that same wattage that had nearly made his tongue roll out of his mouth. When she was out of sight, he flopped back against his chair, blowing out a deep breath. They had a rendezvous. This Friday, and she thought he was unlike any man she’d ever met.
He lifted the corner of Pierre’s throw. “Dude, I think she likes me. Hey! How are you doing, buddy?”
The parrot peered back and squawked, “Tres emotional.”
Yeah, his emotions had gone haywire as well. “I need to make a call, and then we’ll get you home.”
He’d already stored the wine store owner’s card in his contact app, so he pulled up the number easily and rang her. She answered on the second ring. “Bonjour,this is Dean Harris. I just wanted to confirm our appointment for next week to see the cave in advance of the auction.”
“It is as we arranged,” she answered crisply.
“Wonderful,” he replied, nearly giddy in relief. “We will see you then.”
After hanging up, he leaned down to see Pierre. “Buddy, clearly a bunch of wine bottles can’t compete with you. Let’s go. I’m sure everyone is dying to know what happened.”
Sure enough, they pounced on him the minute he came in through the back door.
“Why don’t you let me start from the beginning?” he told them, letting Madison take Pierre from the cage.
When he finished his story, Brooke was the first to open her mouth. “So you have a date.”
