Page 110 of The Paris Roommates: Dean
“Or just come home,” Thea rushed to add, hugging his side. “I’m working out of our house today.”
His already nervous stomach rolled. They were telling him they’d be here if things went south. It was good to know, but he couldn’t think about that now. They’d pulled off the coup of the century, winning the cave as they had. He had to think another, more important win, was before him.
“Things are going to work out.” If today didn’t convince Jacqueline, he’d already decided this wasn’t his last foray. She was his dream girl, his future, and he’d do everything in his power to show her he meant it. “I’ll sing every Celine Dion song produced if I have to.”
Kyle slapped his back. “You’ve got this. Come on, I’m walking your way until I turn for Nanine’s. I want to make sure the crew cleaned up. Pierre, you ready in there?”
The parrot gave a shrill whistle and then said, “They succeed because they think they can.”
Everyone turned to Sawyer, who gave a delighted grin. “I figured he needed to know some famous sayings since he’s our little business buddy. That one is from Virgil. I also taught him a few love sonnets in case you need them, Dean. Just saying…”
He fist-bumped his brainy friend. “You’re the best, Doc, but let’s hope it doesn’t come down to sonnets. It’s all going to work out. Jacqueline will be joining us for dinner tonight to celebrate our wins.”
Madison punched him in the arm. “That’s the spirit. I’ll add an extra portion to dinner. I’m making beef bourguignon since it’s a crowd favorite.”
“Beef bourguignon!” Pierre called with a squawk from inside his cage. “Dean’s favorite.”
Dean got tingles. That was the first thing Pierre had called out to him in the pet store. He was so taking it as a sign of good luck. “I can’t wait. See you later then. Victorious.”
“I’ll have the laurel wreath waiting,” Sawyer called.
Dean looked at Kyle as they walked away. “He’s not serious, right?”
Kyle shrugged as he opened the front door. “If anyone could find a laurel wreath in Paris, it’s Sawyer.”
They walked down the archway to the main door leading to the street. Hitting the button on the wall, Kyle pulled open the heavy door and waited for Dean to go through with Pierre’s cage in hand. Suddenly it struck him that Kyle might have set up this “check” at Nanine’s under the auspices of accompanying him so he wouldn’t be in his head the whole way. That kinda got to him, and it was that thought that made him decide to speak on what he’d witnessed. He had to be a friend here.
“Hey,” he said as they strolled past elegant window displays. “About what’s going on between you and Madison…”
Kyle’s head swung in his direction, an instant scowl on his face.
“I only wanted to say I’m here if you need to talk.” He floundered and winced. “I’m not going to say anything to anyone else, okay? I’ve had some experience with this, although not with any of the women in the house, and I just want you to know friendship and attraction really sucks and I’m here for you. God, didn’t I already say that?”
They continued to amble. Kyle didn’t speak, and Dean thought about peeling off early when they reached Rue Jacob to give Kyle space. There were a million ways to head down to the Seine.
“I appreciate you not saying anything,” Kyle finally said softly. “It’s not an easy situation for either of us, but we know what’s at stake. We aren’t going to screw anything up.”
He touched his friend’s shoulder, and they continued in silence. When he reached his turnoff, Kyle punched him in the arm. “Go get her, champ.”
With that, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and marched off. Champ. He blew out a breath. Yeah, that’s what he needed to channel. The guy who got the girl. Him. Dean Harris.
Who was on his way with a parrot to sing a Celine Dion song along the Seine.
Best not to focus on that, he decided.
The streets held fewer tourists, thank God, and the fall leaves on the plane trees along the Seine were a lovely yellow gold, though Sawyer would likely have a more poetic name for the color. He braced his shoulders as he walked down the steps that would lead him to the Seine. When he passed the willow, he saw her immediately. She was standing along the edge in a long black coat with brown boots, her dark blond hair pulled up tightly into a twist at the back of her head. She looked pale even from this distance, and his heart clutched.
He had to make this right.
“Jacqueline,” he called out, girding himself for the first view of her eyes. He hoped they wouldn’t hold any of the acute hurt or betrayal he’d last seen in them.
“Dean,” she answered softly, taking a breath and striding toward him. “I’m glad you contacted me, even if it was to see Pierre. Because I was thinking…”
She was glad? His head went light with relief. That was good, right? “Tell me,” he answered in French as she drew close to him.
Her brown eyes roved over his face before she said, “I have thought about little else than the horrible things my sister said about me, and I wondered if you or your roommates might have wondered… If that was why you did not tell me about the cave before…”
She was repeating herself, her voice slightly shaky.
