Page 26 of Daddy's Game

I relaxed and stopped trying to get to my purse.

“You’re right. She would call or text right away. Wait, does my cell phone work here?”

“It does. Your cell phone provider has a foothold here.”

“It does?”

“It does ever since I acquired a controlling interest the other day.”

I couldn’t tell if he was joking, and I was too afraid to ask, so I let the matter drop.

Paris turned out to be both lovelier and smaller than I imagined. Don’t get me wrong, it was plenty big, sprawling across the landscape. The buildings were old, ornate, and tended to be less than twenty stories tall, with some exceptions.

The sun became a fat, yellow-orange blob on the horizon, hazed by a thin layer of clouds. Even as the lights went out, I still found Paris to be lovely.

Our first stop was a sidewalk bistro for beignets and coffee. I reached for the silver cream pitcher as the wind stirred my hair and brought the scent of the nearby river.

“No,” Brock said. “You won’t need cream or sugar. Trust me.”

“Okay,” I said, pulling my hand back.

“Take a bite of your beignet, and then a sip of coffee.”

His tone wasn’t authoritarian, but I still wanted to obey. I wondered what that said about me and our burgeoning…thing we had going. I hesitated to even think about it as being a relationship. That would have made it real, and given we were enemies, or at least rivals, I didn’t want to take that step yet.

I bit into the beignet, teeth penetrating the crispy outer layer. A splash of powdered sugar on my tongue hit my sweet tooth just right as warmth issued from the fluffy interior. I chewed and swallowed, then took a sip of my french roast coffee.

“Oh my god,” I said, letting my eyes flutter closed. “That is the best sip of coffee I’ve ever had.”

“See? Aren’t you glad you trusted me?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation.

We finished our beignets, and I found myself brimming with a sugar rush on top of my already manic energy. Brock took my hand as we walked along the various shops and cafes. The streets were congested with people, even early in the morning, so the going was slow.

I didn’t mind. I just reveled in the sensory experience. The smell of food wafting from different cafes, or the aroma of perfume from a storefront. The feel of the wind on my face, and the comforting sensation of just how big Brock’s hand was in comparison to my own.

We headed into a shop called Le Bon Marche–or tried to. The line was wrapped around the building with people waiting to get in. Like it was a nightclub on new year’s eve in New York City.

“I guess we can try later?”

“Hang on,” Brock said. He took out his phone and searched through his contacts before starting a call. I couldn't understand what he said, because he spoke French. Fluent French. If I hadn’t already been attracted to him, well, that might have sealed the deal.

“That should handle it,” he said, putting away his phone and taking my hand. “Come on.”

“I never knew you spoke French,” I said with a giddy laugh.

“Oh, I think you’ll find that I’m a cunning linguist,” he said with a wink.

“Walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.”

He led me to the front of the line. A pair of well dressed, broad shouldered men motioned to us and graciously waved us inside, bypassing the line. Once inside, my mouth opened with awe. It was like a glass and steel menagerie of fashion. I saw everything from street casual to haute couture, and everything in between.

Immediately we were greeted by several staff members. They spoke French to Brock, and heavily accented English to me. I soon found myself standing on a platform while they took my measurements. One of the staffers continuously brought different garments, mostly really nice dresses and evening gowns.

I was dizzy with how much Brock spent. I wasn’t clear on the exchange rate between Francs and the US dollar, but a quick check on my phone let me know the truth. He dropped almost seventy grand on just clothes for me. Not to mention he picked up a couple of new suits for himself, which I didn’t hear the price of. I’m sure they were premium, though.

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