Love Me in Paris

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Love Me in Paris Page 21

by D Pichardo-Johansson


  He moves a lock of hair off my face. “Job interview.”

  I step back, taking in his outfit in more detail. He looks stunning in this tailored business jacket, which highlights his wide shoulders and narrow waist. I can’t wait to get him out of that suit. “Why would you be interviewing in Chicago?”

  He takes a deep breath and his lawyer face returns. “I have my own Rodin museum proposal for you.”

  Epilogue

  Trevor

  “The artist made an interesting choice of colors. I think this painting is more about a feeling than an object.” At the Art Institute of Chicago, I keep my face straight and my voice solemn as I mimic Sophia’s words from months back. We stand in the temporary modern art exhibit, in front of the ugliest blob of paint I’ve seen in my life. And that includes that so-called workshop when Sophia’s students started a paint war, which resulted in more acrylic landing on kids than on canvases.

  I don’t fool Sophia for a minute. Chuckling, she simply replies, “Yes. I hate it too. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Oh, thank God!” I hug her in gratitude. I could kiss this woman right now in front of the gazillion people walking around this museum—and I have. About a dozen times today, in fact, despite the frowning faces of the security staff. I keep forgetting this is not Paris, where people are used to seeing public make-out sessions.

  “Lets go back to the Impressionist Art room,” Sophia suggests as we walk out of the exhibit holding hands.

  I actually like impressionistic art, another example of a nice middle ground between classic and modern that hits my spot. But before this one, we spent a little too much time roaming the Rodin room—my favorite—and now I’m tired. “No, let’s go for our picnic at Millennium Park.”

  “I agree,” Sophia’s friend Chloe chimes in. Having lived in Chicago for years, she has a season pass for the museum, so she joined us today. “Take advantage of the outdoors as much as you can while the good weather lasts. It’s not a myth and you’ll see, Trevor, the winters in Chicago are ridiculous.”

  I’m sure she’s right. And yes, it’s not a myth either that compared to New York, Chicago feels too clean and too… polite. But it’s starting to grow on me. It’s been the best middle ground—the Rodin museum—that allows Sophia and I to live together while we both commute to work.

  As we walk to the exit, I smile, watching Sophia hook arms and chat with her friend. How did I ever function without my woman? There’s nothing better in the world than waking up every day next to her, the person with whom life always feels like a vacation.

  “We’ve kept our Paris routines and created some new ones.” As we cross spacious exhibit halls, Sophia catches Chloe up on our first month in the new house. “Trevor is in charge of morning coffee and breakfast in exchange for not having to fuss with laundry. I make dinner weeknights and he pulls out his amazing chef skills on weekends.”

  Yeah, we’re a great team. I planned the big picture of weaving our lives together, starting with finding the perfect Chicago suburb that allows us to commute to both of our jobs. Meanwhile, she’s the expert in the details, like choosing the decor that combined my taste for clean and modern with her love for antiquities.

  “How do you like your new job?” Chloe asks me.

  “My job at Foreman? It’s not exactly exciting,” I reply. “It’s not like I’m the one renovating the buildings; it’s mostly paperwork. And it pays a lot less than my dad’s firm.”

  Here, Sophia punches me playfully in the arm. “Don’t talk to me about pitiful salaries. I’m a teacher.”

  Jokingly, I elbow her, nudging her away. “But Sophia and I are really looking forward to getting involved in the nonprofit organization to restore antique buildings in Gary.”

  “I’m going to be their official artistic painter!” Sophia claps quietly with enthusiasm. “I’m in charge of restoring the art inside the churches, all the murals and ceiling paintings! I can’t wait to start!”

  “Wow!” Chloe shoots me an appreciative look. “Now that makes any job worth it.”

  She’s right. Nothing makes me happier than seeing the joy on Sophia’s face when she talks about restoring murals.

  Well… maybe her delighted expression when we’re in bed.

  The idea heats me up and I have to make an effort to remember what we were talking about. “The nonprofit is not the only thing that makes the job worth it. Also, those sacred four weeks of vacation a year I built into my contract.”

  “Four weeks?” Chloe asks, playing with her collection of quartz bracelets. “Not bad!”

  “I wouldn’t take anything less,” I explain. “Because Sophia and I are making it a sacred tradition to travel together as much as we can.”

  Sophia beams. “Next spring we’re leaving for Cannes. We’ve decided we’re going to keep exploring France for a while, and after that we’ll move on to other European countries.”

  I suppress a smile. She has no idea that I’ve already purchased her engagement ring and I plan to propose while we’re on that trip. I’ve been ready to do it since the day we reunited in her classroom. I’ve held myself back in order to plan the ultimate perfect moment, and to maximize my odds of a positive answer by giving her a taste of how great life together could be.

  We exit the Art Institute building—its façade clumsily tries to imitate a Roman temple—and go down the steps to the street level. Gah. That windy-city nickname is not a joke. It’s not even officially fall and the breeze is turning chilly already. I stop in front of the iconic bronze lions to orient myself before we head toward the parking garage.

  “I have to pick up some baked goodies for Iris when she comes visiting Monday. She refuses to eat my vegan treats,” Chloe comments as we approach the garage. “Where did you guys get that divine smelling bread I saw in your picnic bag?”

  “She baked it!” I exclaim, wrapping my arm around Sophia’s shoulders. “This woman spoils me so much, she bakes homemade croissants for me.” I’m unable to control myself from bragging to Chloe. Now I kind of understand why Luke gloated over Chrissie so much.

  “Yes.” Sophia rests her hand on my back. “After tasting the French ones, we refuse to settle for anything we can find in the nearby stores. It’s taken multiple tries, but we’ve just figured out a recipe that’s decent enough. Even if there’s something about the scent of the air here that makes everything taste different than in Europe.”

  Once she finds her car in the garage, Chloe hugs Sophia and then me in goodbye. “I’m so glad to see you so happy, guys. And, Trevor, I’m glad to see you’re acclimating well to your new city.”

  “Chicago’s not that bad,” I reply, meaning it. “And I even got the bonus of having family nearby. My cousin is a teaching attending at Midwestern Memorial Hospital.”

  “Oh, I just started a part-time teaching position there!” Chloe clasps her hands. “You should introduce us! Him or her?”

  “Him. I invited Max to join us today, but he had some deadline to meet for a grant.”

  “Max?” She tenses up. “Do you mean Maxwell Steele, Hematologist and Army Veteran? Six foot one, wide shoulders, dark hair, blue-gray eyes?”

  The accuracy of her description surprises me. Eyebrows lifting, I continue more cautiously. “Do you know Max?”

  Chloe’s eyes dart away. “No.”

  I shoot her a baffled look. Then Sophia titters and adds, “Well, if Mia were here she’d say, ‘No, Chloe doesn’t know him—not as much as she would like to know him.’”

  Chloe clears her throat and keeps avoiding my gaze. “We’ve met. But I doubt he remembers me.”

  I suspect I’m missing a joke and now I have to ask Max if he knows Chloe. He’s been reluctant to date for years, ever since his wife died, but nothing would make me happier than setting him up with a nice woman like Chloe. Even if she’s kind of an eccentric lady who’s likely to shock my conservative friend.

  Well, maybe because of that. Max needs to have his life shaken up a li
ttle.

  Chloe boards her mini Cooper and we keep walking, looking for my Porsche among the parked cars. Millennium Park is close enough that we can walk, but we still have to fetch our picnic basket and jackets. “Are you going to make me come back to the museum after our picnic?” I ask, circling Sophia’s waist. Not that I dread it or anything. But the memory of her face of delight makes me want to go home early to squeeze in some extra loving time before the work week starts again.

  “Nah. Let’s spend a little time at the park, people watching and making up stories about the couples around us. And then let’s get home.”

  “Best plan ever!” I thank her with a kiss. What was supposed to be a casual brush of the lips in appreciation soon deepens and prolongs. I can’t stop the kiss from turning into something a little too effusive to have in public.

  A horn blares at us and we jerk apart, startled. To my relief, it’s just Chloe, waving at us as she passes us by. “Hey, you two. Get a room!” She flashes us a grin before taking off.

  I embrace Sophia and nibble at her neck. “Should we listen to her and change our picnic plans for a picnic in bed?”

  She moans at my touch. “I guess we could.” Her hands run through my hair. “Especially if you agree to the dinner plans suggestion I made for next week.”

  I hold a chuckle at her hint that we should accept my father’s invitation to dinner while he’s in town. Under her soft appearance, Sophia is relentless. She’s determined to make Dad and me reconnect, and I have to admit she’s making progress.

  But I can’t agree without extending a counter offer. “I might consider that, in exchange for picnics in bed every weekend for the next month.”

  She giggles as I kiss her shoulder. “I would agree, but I have one concern. If we keep having picnics in bed and canceling our romantic outings—” She pushes me playfully away to make eye contact. “When are you finally going to give me that engagement ring you’ve been hiding, so I can pretend to be surprised?”

  I crack up. Busted.

  But I’ve still got a long way to go before I can stop being the control freak I’ve always been. “I’ll get there.” I kiss her ear. “First, I have to finish detailing the thirty-seven bullet points I have to cover the day I propose.”

  She laughs and I silence her with my mouth.

  And as I savor her lips, I realize kissing her this deep might’ve been a mistake. Now I can’t stop. And now my hands can’t stop either as I push her up against the nearest wall.

  And once again we’re that annoying couple, tearing at each other’s lips in public, forgetting we’re not in Paris anymore.

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  Note from the Author

  Dear Reader:

  It is an honor to me that you took the time to read this story. I hope you’ve enjoyed it.

  My goal is to write romance stories that are not only entertaining, but also enriching for the soul. Striking a balance between those two objectives is sometimes difficult, as it is to decide the right amount of sexy-spice to add into the mix.

  I’d love to hear from you. What did you like in the story? What did you not like? What would you like to see more in future books? I would really appreciate if you could take the time and leave a review at Amazon, Goodreads, your blog or any other venue of your preference.

  Please visit my website and sign for my email list for free short stories and sneak-peeks in future releases- www.pichardo-johansson-md.com

  Please also feel free to email me at [email protected]—I’m a busy lady, but I’ll do my best to answer all emails.

  Thank you again for reading me.

  Love,

  Diely

  Other Books by This Author:

  Sunshine State Series

  Book 1: Hope for Harmony: Baby Makers vs. Peter Pans (Hope and Tom’s story)

  Book 2: Just for Joy: Beyond Achievement (It intersects with the Beyond Romance series)

  Book 3: Faith is Fearless: Normal is Overrated

  Book 4: Grasping for Grace: Never Grow Up

  Book 5: Longing for Love: A Funny, Sweet and Sexy Romance with a Medical Twist

  Check my website http://www.pichardo-johansson-md.com/books/ for more details.

  And don’t forget to join my e-mail list for further information about these two and other upcoming books.

  Love,

  Diely

  About the Author

  Dr. Pichardo-Johansson is a Board Certified physician, a life coach in training and a cancer survivor. She specializes in feel-good, inspiring romance that is about connection of not only the bodies, but also the minds and the spirits. Her brand is “Fun, sweet and sexy romance with vitamins for the soul.”

  She is a mother of four children, including twins and a child with special needs, and adoptive mother to three cats, Ice, Rain and Fire. She lives in Melbourne Beach, Florida with all of them and her Soulmate-Husband, David, a reformed eternal bachelor turned into happy stepfather. He is her inspiration for writing and the main reason why she deeply believes in romantic love.

 

 

 


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