by Maggie Way
Zoey cleared her throat and looked away, focusing on the sidewalk. “How’s Jasmine? You never did tell me how her first day went.”
“I think it was kind of a disaster. Sounds like she’s already made enemies with an assistant that’s making her life miserable.” Mitch sighed, rubbing a hand over his curls. Zoey had the sudden urge to reach out and wrap that hand in hers. “I wish she’d gone back to school.”
“Everyone has to go through some crappy times to get to the good ones.”
“I understand that logically, but I wish it didn’t have to be that way. She’s my kid sister. I don’t like to see her hurt.”
Zoey did reach out then, taking his hand in hers. He looked at her in surprise, but didn’t pull away. Zoey kept walking, urging them along. Her hand burned at his touch, but it was a good kind of fire, one she didn’t want to extinguish.
If Mitch wanted to play it up for Alan, so could she.
“You want to give her everything you didn’t have, and that’s admirable,” Zoey said. “But she’ll appreciate it more when she’s earned it for herself. Jasmine’s a risk taker, but she’s also smart—she’s only going to take calculated risks with a high likelihood of paying off.”
Mitch gave her a lopsided grin and gently squeezed her hand. “I guess she’s a lot like you in that way.”
“You don’t think I’m an idiot to want to quit Toujour?”
“No. I think you’re brave.”
Zoey looked away, her cheeks burning. She didn’t feel brave.
Mitch dropped her hand and pointed. “There it is, mademoiselle. The Eiffel Tower.”
Zoey stared at the tower, a golden beacon against a setting sun. She let out a laugh, bringing a hand to her chest. “I can’t believe we’re really here. This whole experience is so unreal.”
“Want to see it up close and personal?”
“Absolutely.”
He motioned to the grassy field directly across the street from the tower. “We could take a picture there first. The lighting will be gone by the time we get off the top.” He smirked. “I’m assuming you want to go to the top, right?”
“Uh, yeah. You can’t come to Paris and not go to the top of the Eiffel Tower.” She poked his arm, struggling to regain the playful banter that used to be so easy between them—that had returned in the rain. “Unless you’re you, of course. Then you come to Paris twice without bothering to make time for one of the most iconic monuments in the world.”
“Third time’s a charm, right?”
“Come on, Mr. Don’t Seize the Day. That sun’s not slowing down, and I don’t want to lose the light.”
Zoey picked the perfect spot, and they asked someone to take their picture. Mitch wrapped his arms around Zoey and pressed his cheek close to hers, and she struggled to maintain her smile while her mind whirled with the possibilities of what this could mean.
He had to be playing it up in case Alan was somewhere nearby. She had hurt Mitch so badly. He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable—something she knew wasn’t easy for him—and she’d responded by kissing another guy. The worst part was he probably thought she’d done that because she was flighty and not interested in a real relationship.
They stood close but not quite touching as they crossed the street, bought tickets, and rode the elevator to the top.
She should tell him that she’d freaked out after their kiss and handled it badly. Maybe, if he knew the truth, he’d be able to forgive her.
The elevator doors opened, and Zoey pushed her way through the crowd. She pressed up against the wire mesh providing a protective barrier, threading her fingers through.
Zoey gasped. Buildings sprawled below them, like tiny dollhouses. The sun sank low in the sky, casting an orange hue over the entire city. Cars zipped along the streets, and she could just make out the sound of a car horn.
The Arc de Triomphe and Notre Dame had been spectacular, but nothing compared to this.
“In about twenty minutes, we’re going to witness a beautiful sunset.”
Zoey jumped. Mitch’s breath tickled her ear, and his arm brushed against hers as he pointed at the horizon. She shivered despite the warm air drying her wet clothes.
Maybe it was more than an act for him, too.
Slowly, she gazed up at him. “I had no idea you could live so fully in the moment.”
“I’m learning to. You’re a great teacher.”
Zoey blushed, looking away.
“What happened, Zoey? I’ve been thinking about it for months, and I can’t figure it out. I really thought that...” Mitch rubbed a hand over his head. “But I guess I was wrong.”
Anxiety pooled in her stomach, a murky pond filled with floating leaves and litter. It was one thing to think about telling him the truth, and another to actually open her mouth and say the words. She wanted to run down the tower and away from this conversation. But instead she took a deep breath.
“You weren’t wrong,” she whispered. “After that night I just...I freaked out. When you didn’t call me, things spiraled.”
“I meant to call you, but work was insane that day, and I didn’t have a spare minute. When I called you at lunch, you didn’t pick up.” He laughed, the sound hollow. “I guess I know why.”
“You could’ve sent me a text to let me know.”
“I thought I was being chivalrous and letting you sleep in.”
The words were a slap to the face. She’d thought he slighted her, but instead he’d been sweet. And she’d freaked out and stuck her tongue down some random stranger’s throat. Her stomach curdled with disgust for her actions.
“I’m sorry,” Zoey said. “I never should’ve done it. He meant nothing to me. I don’t even remember his name.”
Mitch gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. His skin was nearly as dark as her hair, and she shivered as his knuckles glided over her cheek. “What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid.” Except she was afraid of everything. She knew how to be spontaneous, how to live in the moment. How to enjoy life. But she didn’t know how to do the hard stuff. The serious stuff. The relationship stuff.
“You don’t strike me as the kind of girl who gets all neurotic when a guy doesn’t call her back the day after a kiss,” Mitch said.
“Maybe I am.”
“Please, Zoey. Let me in.”
“It’s stupid.”
“Just say it.”
Like it was as easy as reciting a grocery list. But he deserved an explanation. She took a deep breath, then tried to make her voice flippant. “I guess I wasn’t ready for the emotions kissing you triggered. I reacted badly, and I’m sorry for the pain it caused you. If you haven’t figured it out by now, overreacting is kind of my thing.”
She didn’t like the way Mitch stared at her, as though his eyes could penetrate her soul. “You’ve kissed a lot of guys. What about kissing me was so scary?”
Zoey looked away, heat flaming her cheeks. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“I do, and I think I’ve earned the right to this conversation.”
She brushed a strand of hair away, playing with the ends of her ponytail. “I’d never felt a kiss that deeply, okay? I wasn’t prepared for what it would do to me, emotionally or whatever you want to call it.” Could she be any more of a girl? It had been one kiss. One. Silly. Kiss.
“It wasn’t just a fling for me.”
Her breath caught, and she couldn’t exhale.
“I was ready to go all in that night, even though it terrified me. You terrify me.” Mitch cupped her face in his hand, running his thumb up and down her cheek. “But it was the good kind of scary, and I thought you were worth the risk.”
Zoey was scared to move, scared to breathe. She blinked up at Mitch, trying to read his expression. His eyes brimmed with emotions she couldn’t read, and she simultaneously wanted to let herself drown in them and swim desperately for shore. “And now?” she whispered.
A smile tu
gged at the corner of his lips. He lowered his head toward hers, then paused, as though giving her permission to pull away.
She reached out, resting her hands on his arms. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer still. Her head spiraled with memories of their last kiss. Surely she had built it up in her mind over the last few months. There was no way a kiss could be that perfect.
Mitch paused, his lips a hair’s breadth away from hers.
“The Eiffel Tower at sunset seems a little cliché,” Zoey murmured.
“We can put this off until we’re somewhere else if you’d prefer.”
“Not a chance.” Zoey rose on her tiptoes, bridging the last millimeters between them.
And then their lips met. His were just as soft and full as she remembered. His hand tightened at her waist, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss.
She was dancing through clouds, skating on ice, floating on air, and her thoughts were a scattered mess of fragmented emotions she didn’t know how to piece together. Zoey brought her hands to Mitch’s cheeks, urging him closer. His skin was rough with whiskers beneath her palms, and she pressed her body against his, wishing this moment would never end.
Mitch broke the kiss first, leaning his forehead against hers. “What am I going to do with you, Zoey?” he whispered.
A camera flashed, the bulb blinding in the near-darkness. Zoey pushed away from Mitch, her heart pounding so loudly she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. What was she doing? What was she thinking? She couldn’t go down this path with Mitch. They were too different. They’d end up making each other miserable. He’d try to change her.
The camera flashed again. Zoey took another step back, her stomach sick with dread.
Alan, with a camera to his eye and an evil smile on his lips.
Chapter Eighteen
What had Mitch done to piss off karma so badly that he deserved this? For months, he had fretted and stewed and obsessed over that kiss with Zoey. He had wondered what he’d done wrong, what was wrong with her, why he was attracted to someone so obviously bad for him. And now—when he was just starting to get answers to those questions, and to realize he’d misjudged the entire situation—Alan had to go and ruin everything.
Zoey’s eyes met Mitch’s, full of confusion and accusation where a moment before there had been vulnerability and desire.
“It’s all part of the plan, right?” she whispered, smiling. But he saw the hurt behind it.
Whatever Mitch had done to anger karma, Alan had just done it a thousand times worse.
“I didn’t know he was here.” Mitch reached out to pull her toward him, but she took a step back.
“Sure.”
The camera flashed again. Mitch closed his eyes, his heart racing. He and Zoey needed to finish the conversation they’d barely started. But now was not the time.
They had to convince Alan he and Zoey were about to get married. And then they had to find out how Alan was tracking them.
“Later,” Mitch said. He let his gaze slide to Alan, hoping she’d get the message.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a great actress.”
Desperation clawed at his throat. “I wasn’t acting.”
Another camera flash. Zoey flicked one last glance in Mitch’s direction, then marched over to Alan. Mitch followed close on her heels, kicking himself for not taking the initiative and approaching the sleezeball first.
“You are seriously a messed up person,” Zoey said, pointing a finger in Alan’s face. “Why can’t you leave us alone? We’re trying to enjoy Paris together, and you. Are. Ruining. Everything.”
Usually Mitch wasn’t a fan of hyperbole, but this time, Zoey was right on point.
“I’m waiting for you to slip up,” Alan said. “I’m waiting for the crack in your story. I’m waiting for you to lead me right to Brooke and Luke, and those fifty-thousand-dollar wedding photos that are going to make my career.”
“You’re wasting your time and money,” Mitch said. “No one will pay fifty thousand dollars to see photos of Zoey and I eloping.”
“It’s a good thing that’s not what I’ll be getting photos of, then.”
“Stay away from us, Alan.” Zoey’s voice shook with fury, and maybe a tinge of fear. “Next time, I’m calling the police.”
Alan smirked. “You can try and scare me all you want, but it’s not going to work. I’m seeing this through to the very end.”
Zoey flexed her fingers, and for a moment, Mitch thought she might slap Alan. He had half a mind to let her. But instead she straightened her shoulders and grabbed Mitch’s hand. Her palm was warm, her grip tight with tension. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, but either she didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Let’s go,” she said and yanked him toward the group waiting for the elevator. The click of the camera shutter followed them the entire way.
Alan wasn’t trying to get photos of Brooke and Luke’s wedding—he was trying to ruin Mitch’s life.
The elevator doors slid open, and they forced their way onto the platform with the rest of the crowd. As soon as the doors shut, Zoey dropped his hand. Mitch’s head spun with the complexities and nuances of the last ten minutes. He didn’t know what was real and what was for show anymore.
It was all starting to feel real to him.
The elevator opened, and they stepped outside. Mitch wanted to reach for Zoey’s hand again. But she folded her arms across her stomach, a clear back off signal. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as though chilled by the night air. Mitch wished his jacket wasn’t still damp from the rain so he could offer it to her.
Mitch glanced behind him. The sun had set, and the Eiffel Tower was now a glowing beacon. But he could still make out Alan’s figure and the silhouette of a camera in the twilight.
Alan probably didn’t expect to find anything out tonight. He was just trying to unnerve them.
“He’s still following us,” Mitch said.
“I know.” Zoey shook her head. Were those tears glistening in her eyes? “Why can’t he leave us alone? What a piranha.”
“We have to figure out how he’s following us.” The wedding was only days away.
“I’m out of ideas. He shows up everywhere, and there’s no rhyme or reason to it.”
“Let’s at least try and lose him before going home.”
“What do you have in mind?”
Mitch’s mind flashed back to their kiss, and how much he wouldn’t mind experiencing that again. They really needed to talk about what had happened. He hadn’t been playacting for Alan.
But had Zoey?
“I hear the river boat cruises on the Seine are a must-see and are gorgeous at night,” Mitch said. “Hopefully he’ll get bored and go back to whatever hole he crawled out of.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
Mitch let his shoulder brush up against hers as they walked in silence, and he kept his hands down at his sides. But Zoey kept her arms firmly folded and her hands out of reach.
Was she regretting their kiss—again?
He heard the click of a shutter and glanced over his shoulder. Alan still followed from half a block back.
Dealing with Zoey would have to come later. For now, they had to figure out how Alan was following them.
“He can’t be tracking us through Lianna,” Mitch said. “No one knew we were going to the Eiffel Tower tonight.”
“I don’t think it can be anyone at Toujour,” Zoey said. “He showed up at the Arc de Triomphe, too, and I only texted Brooke that information. She always has her phone on hand. The chances of someone stealing it, going through her texts, and alerting Alan in such a tight time frame are slim.”
“But her office isn’t bugged. None of our phones are bugged.”
“So what, he bugged one of us?”
“Are you sure he didn’t somehow get to your purse at the charity gala?”
Zoey sent him a scathing glare. “It’s just as likely he bugged you. I didn’t
even bring that purse to Paris, and I’ve gone through all the contents at least three times and nothing suspicious showed up.”
“Still, I’d feel better if we had the private security firm go through our things.”
“Fine.” She spit the word at him, and Mitch instantly realized he’d gone too far.
“I’m not trying to accuse you. I just think—”
“Drop it, Mitch. We’ll go to the security firm first thing tomorrow.”
He understood why she was hesitant to admit that somehow she’d been bugged—really, he did. But she had to face the facts. It was the only explanation that made sense, and if they could find the bug before the wedding, maybe Alan wouldn’t ruin everything.
Zoey was being stubborn. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him from doing his job.
They stayed silent as they stood in line and bought tickets, then boarded the boat. The evening was quickly unraveling, and Mitch wasn’t sure if he could salvage it. Why couldn’t Zoey just admit that Alan had probably been tracking them through her?
“We should sit on top,” Mitch said. “I bet the view is great from up there.”
“Sure,” Zoey said. But her voice was flat, her usually bubbly tone gone.
Mitch stifled a sigh. They climbed the stairs and found seats up top. Their shoulders accidentally brushed, and Zoey inched away.
So it was going to be like that now.
Mitch scanned the river bank for Alan. He stood with his hands in his pockets but wasn’t in line to board the boat himself. Maybe he’d decided that whatever they were doing tonight, it wasn’t worth his time.
The boat pulled away from the dock, and Alan remained behind. Zoey let out a sigh.
“Do you really think he’ll show up at our appointments tomorrow?” she asked.
“If we can’t figure out how he’s tracking us, then yes.”
“He didn’t bug anything in my purse. It was with me the entire time.”
“It doesn’t hurt to check.”
Zoey folded her arms, the anger back. “How do you know he didn’t bug you?”
“Um, because I only spent about thirty seconds with him.”
“It only takes one second to place a bug.”