Point Us to Paris

by Aimee Duffy

  Ciara told him about that time in the headmaster’s office, letting him know everything her da went through to get her to Oxford and told him how much she loathed feeling indebted to anyone.

  He listened, all the way through, letting the coffee he’d ordered go cold, and squeezing her hand when she needed him to. She left out the parts about her mother, since she hadn’t been around back then and left out the parts about how much she’d missed her dad when he’d worked so much, because she knew how selfish that was when he was doing it all for her.

  ‘So that’s about it,’ she said.

  Zack was quiet for a long time, just looking at her with his eyes wide and maybe a little sad. When he smiled, it was kind and wiped away the hint of sadness. Or maybe she’d imagined it.

  ‘Ciara, your dad wanted the best for you and always will. That’s not charity, it’s love.’

  Probably more along the lines of pity, since she’d had to grow up without her ma, but she didn’t tell him that.

  ‘And never, ever tell Elle I said this.’ He waited until she nodded. ‘I think she loves you too, and she just wants to do nice things for you the only way she knows how.’

  Her vision got blurry. ‘I really am an ungrateful bitch.’

  ‘Never say that,’ he scorned, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

  She forced out a smile, but it was weak. She was back to hurting again, knowing the grieving was coming as soon as she left him. And that time had to be soon. Surely he needed to get back to work and she had serious apologising to do.

  ‘I missed you,’ she whispered.

  The lopsided grin was back, making her heart take off. ‘I missed you too, Ciara.’

  Ciara bit her lip before the most unfair words came out. She wanted to ask him to stay, so badly it was making her tremble. His eyes darkened in that way they did when he was thinking dirty things and the breath whooshed out of her lungs.

  But then he stood up. ‘You should take Elle up on her offer and go enjoy yourself tonight.’

  Just like that, air was kicked out of her lungs until she felt winded. She nodded, lowering her gaze to the table.

  ‘And Ciara?’ he said, tilting her chin up with her finger until she could see his face. He looked concerned again. ‘Don’t run off on your own in a city like this, okay?’

  ‘I won’t,’ she mumbled.

  His lips brushed her forehead for a second, then he seemed to jerk away like she smelled funky. Watching him walk down the street, all she could think was she deserved this feeling of being walked out on. It’s what she got for being a cow.

  Chapter Nine

  Ciara’s heart was hammering as she stepped into the foyer and knocked on the huge black door rimmed with gold. Another of the Muir’s fancy properties, and she’d wondered if Zack had had a hand in designing it as the building only looked a few years old.

  But she wasn’t going to think about him until she’d apologised properly and they’d been on the fun night out Elle had had planned for ages.

  Gem opened the door with Elle right behind her, and though they breathed out identical sighs of relief, they watched her carefully, like she was going to erupt at any second.

  She was a miserable, selfish, horrible person who had the best friends in the world. Her eyes welled and spilled over like water bursting from a damn. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘You’re a pig headed idiot,’ Gem said, pulling her into a hug that knocked the breath out of her. ‘But so are we.’

  Elle joined in, wrapping her arms around them both. ‘I’m unstoppable sometimes and it’s not fair to you. I should be the one that’s sorry.’

  This all felt too easy. She didn’t deserve that. ‘Aren’t you mad?’

  Gem shook her head. ‘We were worried. I’m glad Zack found you.’

  ‘I’d have come back. Just, when I calmed down I felt so bad about storming off that I couldn’t face phoning you.’ She bit her tongue against asking what Zack said when they called him, and for every little detail of that convo. This was about her making up for being a cow.

  ‘Come on, we’re making dinner,’ Elle said, pulling them into the house and closing the door. ‘You can grovel more in the kitchen if it makes you feel better.’

  She smiled a little and wiped away the tears. ‘It will.’

  ‘We should too, for dragging you into Givenchy,’ Gem said.

  Ciara shook her head and took a seat on one of the bar stools on the breakfast bar/wine rack. Gem went straight for the wine underneath and pulled out a bottle. ‘While in France…’

  While Elle chopped away at the veg and threw together a massive salad with the best olive oils and dressings money could buy, she sipped at the red wine, listening to Gem natter on about the tee-shirts she was getting printed for the Greek part of the tour.

  She couldn’t wait until they got to Santorini, and she could relax for a week without worrying about unpacking and packing up again within a few days of each other. Already, she’d decided Paris was her least favourite city in the world. But then if she’d come with Zack for a couple of days as a romantic break, she’d probably change her mind.

  Sighing, she pulled her phone out of her bag. No more texts. He was probably back on his private jet, soaring across to London.

  Elle put Ciara’s plate down in front of her and noticed straight away that something wasn’t right. Her chicken wasn’t grilled like Elle’s and Gem’s. Instead it was done in the frying pan covered in spices she loved. Next, her salad had a dollop of mayo whereas she knew Elle would never, ever buy mayo, never mind serve it! And was that cubes of feta through the lettuce leaves?

  ‘What have you done, Elle?’ she asked. Her friend wouldn’t ply her with this kind of meal if it wasn’t bad. Well, it wasn’t fried chips and steak bad, but close.

  Elle held up her hands. ‘Don’t get crazy again, but I didn’t just buy you the dress.’

  Ciara gritted her teeth, trying to call back the consequences of the last time she’d lost her temper, about eight hours ago. ‘What else?’

  A sheen of sweat broke out over Elle’s forehead. ‘Shoes – to go with the dress. But that’s it, I promise!’

  She took a deep breath, remembering what Zack had said about Elle loving her and only wanting to do something nice for her, so she swallowed her pride. ‘Thanks, really. I love that dress and I’m sure the shoes will be stunning.’

  Elle’s eyes widened and Gem said, ‘Do you want to repeat that? I think I was hearing things.’

  ‘Ha. Ha.’ She shoved her shoulder against Gem’s. ‘Really, I appreciate it and I’m sorry for being such a baby earlier. The food looks fab too.’

  Ciara dug in, ignoring the look that passed between her friends. The whole day had put so much in perspective for her, and even though she still didn’t feel comfortable wearing expensive clothes her friends bought, she was going to try and think of it as a nice gesture by someone who cared about her.

  ***

  Even though the club was exclusive, there was still a line to get in. Most people weren’t on the guest list and were turned away one by one. She was so glad she had something chic and sophisticated to wear, since all the women in front of her were dripping with designer and style.

  ‘Elle, I really do love the dress and I’m sorry for—’

  ‘I swear, Ciara. If you don’t stop worrying you’re going to look fifty by the time you’re thirty.’ Elle treated her to a dazzling smile.

  Her cheeks heated. She deserved more wrath than this, had fully expected it. Especially since she’d driven her friends to call Zack. But she hadn’t mentioned him since she got back. Her plan had been to apologise and the feeling of him walking away hadn’t left, but she was determined to put that aside so she could enjoy the night with her friends.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to get on his shit list. He’s huge,’ Gem said, nodding to the tank of a bouncer who’d just come out the club. ‘Definitely steroid abuse and god knows what else. You can’t get a body like that natural
ly, even if you spend all your life in a gym.’

  ‘Trust the biological science graduate to ruin the view,’ Elle said.

  The words she’d found on the Google search popped into her head again. Russian mafia lords. But she wasn’t stupid enough to say the words out loud. Her palms got damp as the group before her were escorted in by the tank, then they were asked their names.

  Elle rhymed them off, and the man with the list nodded. They had to wait for the bouncer to come back and she had a vision of a trio of lambs, waiting to be led to the slaughter. Of course, Elle and Gem looked nothing like lambs. One donned in burgundy Prada and the other in teal Gucci, for once she didn’t feel out of place next to them in the prettiest dress Givenchy had ever made. All thanks to Elle.

  When the human tank appeared, Ciara was ready to bolt but Gem took her arm and led her in behind Elle and the freak of nature. She didn’t dare speak as they made their way through a dimly lit blood red hall, and didn’t say a word as the bouncer led them to a table to the right of a giant room. There was a dance floor that was too shiny and expensive to dare stepping on with stilettos.

  But one thing she did notice was that all around, whether the tables filled with men or mixed with women, there were classy and refined people everywhere. Sipping champagne and chatting over low French music that made her feel more relaxed. Even if it may or may not be where the gangsters came for a drink – and possibly the occasional slaughtering.

  A waitress in a silver gown brought over a champagne bucket and glasses. Elle had clearly ordered ahead. Ciara wondered if they’d make it to the end of the night, then shook the thought away. It didn’t look like the kind of place mafia lords came to party, though she only had The Godfather to go on and even then she had to turn off the first midway because all those guns gave her the chills.

  After the waitress filled the glasses with pink champagne, they thanked the woman and she left them to it.

  ‘When you said club, I had dancing and bathroom sex in mind,’ Gem grumbled.

  ‘It won’t be long until the party starts, just wait,’ Elle said, scanning the crowds, probably for a hunky bachelor to sink her claws into for the night.

  Ciara took to alcohol instead of checking out the eye candy, hoping the bubbly drink would relax her enough to actually enjoy herself. She hoped Elle had ordered a crate of the stuff.

  ***

  A few bottles of the pink champagne later and Ciara was starting to have fun people watching. The music picked up and the daring took to the dance floor. A woman dripping from head to toe in gold and rubies had to be the head of the mafia’s wife, in all her finery. And the woman was hot even though she could have been old enough to be her mother.

  A man approached the queen of the gangsters, but he looked too thin and wiry to be a crime lord. Maybe he didn’t know who she was. Maybe he’d eat a few bullets later for his trouble.

  She shivered, despite the fact the club was warm.

  ‘He’s here!’ Elle said. ‘I knew he’d come.’

  Ciara’s heart launched into her throat as she looked around desperately, hoping to see Zack among the sea of men in finery. The crash was almost devastating. Of course Elle would never be excited about her cousin being anywhere. Her reaction in LA and Miami had proved that.

  ‘Where?’ Gem asked, and Ciara followed their gazes.

  The man looked powerful in a black suit that no doubt cost a fortune. His hair was greying at the temples, reminding her of a younger, sexier George Clooney and she had to admit she was digging the silver fox thing he had going.

  ‘Pier,’ Elle sighed. ‘He doesn’t go by a second name, like Madonna.’

  Ciara frowned. ‘What makes him so special?’

  Both her friends looked at her like she was from a different planet.

  Elle filled her in. ‘He’s the third richest bachelor in the world, Ciara. Keep up.’

  ‘And you care about that, why?’ It’s not like they weren’t rolling in it themselves.

  ‘The money is what makes him so unattainable. A challenge.’ Elle grinned. ‘And you know how much I love those.’

  ‘You want to, what, marry him or something?’ Ciara had never heard either of her friends talk about a relationship where it ended in wedding bells.

  ‘God, no. I was hoping for an invite to one of his parties. He has a loft apartment down by the river and I heard he takes a select few back with him. Imagine a man like that picking you to take home and give you his full attention.’

  She knew she had a lot to learn about all this girl and boy stuff still, but didn’t understand why Elle would want to be with someone who was, by what she’d said, a bit of a slut.

  ‘Don’t you dare ditch us, Elle,’ Gem warned.

  ‘Come on,’ Elle said, topping up her glass. ‘He’s not about to pick me, is he?’

  But Ciara didn’t trust the glint in Elle’s eyes, she doubted Gem did either.

  A while later, her friends had drawn the attention of two Frenchmen who didn’t seem to speak a word of English. They were gorgeous, dark haired and totally her type. Except she found she didn’t even want to speak with them, even if she’d known how to. Excusing herself, she made for the bathroom again, feeling dizzier than the last time she’d tried this. God, it was awful. She was well on her way to being drunk and Elle was so polished she could still speak fluent French and flirt.

  A look in the mirror showed her make-up, at least, was still intact. The golden ringlets Gem had given her seemed fine too. Still, she rummaged around the Dolce clutch Elle loaned her for lippy. She found her mobile instead.

  Carrying it over to the sofa, she opened up her texts until she found the one from earlier.

  She still had his number.

  She still wanted him.

  Not any of the suits in the club, not any of the posers in Miami. She wanted Zack like she’d never wanted anything else, and as she thought more about their last night together in Miami, she couldn’t stop the burn of heat flooding through her veins.

  Her thumbs started typing and before she knew it, she’d hit send. Re-reading the text was harder, the screen was getting blurry which was probably her cue to order a glass of water. The words she’d sent to him flared up a spike of lust.

  I want you in my mouth. I want to taste you and lick you until you come for me.

  She did. It was something she’d never had the pleasure of doing yet – something she’d hated doing with guys she’d dated in college. But imagining Zack in their place? Her stomach got all gooey and her mouth watered.

  Gem opened the bathroom door. ‘There you are! Come on, we’re leaving.’

  ‘Huh?’ Ciara asked, shoving her phone in her bag and hoping her cheeks weren’t as bright as they felt.

  ‘Those two know Pier and invited us all to a private party at his place!’ Gem took her hand and pulled her up.

  The plush marble sinks seemed to spin with the room around her until she took a deep breath to clear her head.

  ‘I think you should lay off the bubbly,’ Gem said.

  She giggled, and a rush of emotion heated her cheeks. ‘I love you, Gem. And Elle too.’

  She’d no idea why she thought now was the perfect time to tell them, but it felt right.

  ‘We love you too, now come on or we’ll miss the limo.’ Gem put her arm around her waist and she strutted out of the bathroom, feeling very sexy in her new killer heels.

  When Elle said loft, Ciara had immediately thought of a dusty old attic with a little paint and some art to make it homey. This was so not what she expected. The house was old, but it had been renovated so the living quarters were down stairs and the outside staircase led to a balcony, looking out over The Seine. Through the glass patio, she could see inside. Dim light, lots of corner sofas and a fully staffed bar. Plus, what was that in the middle? It looked like a massive, blood read cushion except it was bigger than a bed.

  Eight of them had come, another two women, Pier and the Frenchmen who’d sat at their
table in the club.

  Pier went straight for Elle, leading her into his loft like a true gent, but all Ciara could think was all the women he’d had and couldn’t get past it. She was handed a glass of champagne by a waiter, but decided to take this one easy since her equilibrium was on the dodgy side.

  She followed Gem to one of the sofas, with the other women and one of the guys. The other Frenchman went to a wall that looked like it was made up of electronics and after a moment of touching buttons, more music she didn’t recognise filled the room.

  The soft voice of the singer was almost sensual, but something about it made Ciara think it was a soundtrack to a classy porn film.

  ‘How are you now?’ Gem whispered in her ear. ‘You look antsy.’

  She was a bit. She wanted them to put upbeat music on so she could cut some moves on Pier’s plush carpet – it didn’t look as easy to ruin as the dance floor at the club.

  ‘I’m fine. Actually, I’ve got loads of energy,’ she said, not bothering to whisper.

  Hands massaged her shoulders gently and she looked behind her to see the music changer hovering over her. God, he did have gorgeous eyes with little green circles round his pupils.

  He bent down so he was close to her ear. ‘I’m glad to hear you’re full of energy. You will need it later.’

  His accent rolled around the words, making her tingle. Well, her hand tingle anyway. Wait. She snapped her attention to her bag and realised that was the cause of the buzz. ‘Sorry, I have to take this call.’

  ‘I’ll be waiting,’ he said, then his thumb trailed down the side of her neck.

  Blood rushed to her face, but it wasn’t because she was turned on by his touch. He hadn’t even talked to her once before now and what, he was flirting? Hoping she’d go back to his place and fuck him?

  She got off the sofa and headed outside. She knew who had called, or at least hoped she did. When she pulled her phone out her bag she realised she’d missed him three times.

  Hitting call, she put the phone to her ear.

  Zack answered on the first ring. ‘Ciara, are you okay?’