“Excusez- moi.” Excuse me, I say in my half-broken French. “combien is the taxi?” How much is the taxi?
“Good try there,” Kate says, laughing. “You used one French word, and you think you can speak French?”
“Where are you going?” the girl asks, and I pull up the address on my phone and show her. “Fifty euro.”
I roll my eyes. “That guy was going to charge more.”
“He had a Mercedes,” Diana says. “It’s about style, you guys.”
“We’ll take it,” Kate tells the girl. She raises her hand, and a man with a minivan pulls up to the curb. “We have a limo,” she says, laughing as she walks to the back of the minivan where the driver is waiting.
“Bonjour,” he says in French. “Welcome to Paris.”
“Merci,” we all say at the same time. He grabs our luggage to put in the back, and we climb up in the van.
He gets in and turns to look in the back. “What is the address?” he asks. I give him the phone, and he enters the address in his GPS. “Oh, le 15e arrondissement, good,” he says, putting the car in drive. I look out the window as he makes his way from the airport to the city.
The three of us are lost in our own thoughts, and no one is really talking till we get into the city. “I’m so tired,” I say, looking at the girls. They both just nod.
We pull up to the apartment, and I look up at the buildings on both sides. “It’s so French,” I say when we finally stop at the address I gave to the driver. I pay the driver while the girls get out and grab our bags.
Making my way to them, I stand with them on the sidewalk and look up. “This looks so European,” Kate says while she takes her phone out and starts snapping pictures.
“It does,” I say. Looking to my right, I see a man coming in my direction with a raised hand, smiling.
“Allo,” he says when he is close enough. “I’m Nicolas.”
I reach my hand out to shake his. “I’m Meghan.”
“Oh vous êtes trois?” He asks if we are three, his finger pointing at all three of us.
“No,” Kate says. “We are waiting for her hotel room to be ready,” she says, pointing at Diana.
“Ah d’accord,” All right, he says, turning to the front door. “There are two key pads to get in,” he says of the big glass door with cast iron decorations right in front of the glass. We walk into the entrance and see another locked door. He enters the code and tells us as the big glass door opens.
We don’t have to go very far because the door to the apartment is the first one off the entrance. “Welcome to Paris,” he says as he opens the door to the apartment. He walks in first, and I follow him down one step and into the aparment, seeing this really is a studio.
“Oh my god,” I say under my breath, stepping in so Kate and Diana can follow me onto the black-and-white checkered ceramic floor.
Against one wall is the queen-size bed with white covers and a red-and-white checkered blanket and pillows. The couch that Diana thought we could sleep on is against the wall that has a door to it and two windows. “That door doesn’t open,” Nicolas tells us, stepping to a little crank in the wall. “You need to crank this to open the shutters outside.” He motions, turning it while I look at the little television right next to a burner on the counter facing the bed.
“If you have any questions,” he says, handing me the key, “my number is on that paper.” He points at the paper right in front of the television.
I smile at him as he wishes us a great vacation and leaves. “What in the fuck?” Kate says. Going over to the little couch with two throw pillows, she plops down and groans while Diana laughs. “There is no way in fuck you can sleep on this couch; it’s metal.” She gets up, closes her fist, and knocks on the metal.
I sit on the bed and fall back laughing. “This place is smaller than a New York city closet.”
I rub my face. “Okay, I need to eat, and then we need to take a nap.”
“Deal,” Kate says. “How about we walk around the block and see what there is?”
Since we’re all in agreement, we dump our bags and grab the key, then walk outside and turn left. “Did you see his face when he saw three of us?” Kate says, and we laugh.
Walking to the busy street at the corner, we look left and see a boulangerie. “Oh, look, we can get sandwiches there.” I point, walking to the door. As we make our way inside, the smell of sugar hits us right away along with the smell of fresh bread. I look around, seeing baskets of baguettes on the side.
Half baguette sandwiches filled with different types of ham and cheese are on display in the glass case. “What do you think?” Diana asks. “Should we get two sandwiches and share them?”
“Yeah,” Kate says.
“I want an almond croissant,” I tell them when my eyes land on the golden croissant that is pressed flat and covered with slivers of almonds and powdered sugar.
“We can get one to share,” Kate says, and I just shake my head.
“Nope, not doing it,” I tell her. “You two can share one, but I want one all to myself. All mine. I did extra crunches this week just for this moment!”
“Fine,” she says, turning to Diana. “We can share one.” We order two ham and cheese sandwiches and two almond croissants.
After Kate takes the bag from the lady, she takes a bite of the croissant on our way out, stopping in the middle of the doorway. “Oh my god,” she says with her mouth full. “We need to share this.” She looks at Diana, chewing and groaning the whole time. “But a bite for a bite,” she tells Diana, and I just laugh, thinking I’m glad I have a whole one to myself.
“How are the three of us going to share a queen-size bed?’ I ask, taking a bite of the sandwich, passing it to Diana, who takes a bite, and passes it to Kate as we walk back to the apartment.
“I think we need to sleep diagonal,” Diana says, chewing, looking at us.
Back in the apartment, we all change out of our travel clothes and look at the bed. “I’ll sleep by the wall,” I say, lying down with my front to the wall. Kate is next to me, and then Diana next to her. “I guess this is how supermodels feel,” I say to them. “My feet have never been off the bed before.” I laugh. “Someone set the alarm.”
“On it,” Diana says. “Three hours should be good, right?” She turns her head to us, and we both nod. I pull the blanket up to my shoulder and place my head on the down filled pillow.
“See you in three hours,” I say, and before you know it, I’m asleep.
Chapter Two
Meghan
“Are you almost ready?” I ask Diana, who is in the bathroom, while I scroll through Instagram sitting on the metal couch. The nap was heavenly even if my feet did hang off the bed, and the sound of the alarm had us all groaning. I would have slept till tomorrow if they gave me the option.
“Almost,” she says as Kate gets up from the wooden stool by what’s supposed to be the kitchen table but is the counter.
“My friends are in town,” she says to us.
“You have friends?” I joke with her, and she rolls her eyes.
“She’s a buyer for Zara,” she says, looking at her phone. “She’s here with co-workers. Do we want to do dinner?”
“That sounds like fun,” Diana says from the bathroom, where she has been getting ready for the past twenty-five minutes. Kate was the first one in the shower as soon as the alarm woke us up, and I was the second one in there. I lingered as long as I could before it was my turn.
“I’m not changing,” I tell her when she looks at me, checking my outfit.
“You don’t have to change,” she says and takes in my outfit of tight jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black jacket that I’m going to zip up.
I look down at the black booties I have on. “I’ll throw on a necklace if I have to dress this outfit up a little,” I tell her, and she just shakes her head.
Diana comes out of the bathroom, and I’m happy to see that we all are dressed semi alike in jeans. “I
’m done,” she says, grabbing her own booties from the door and slipping them on.
I grab a black scarf instead of a necklace and wrap it around my neck. “Okay. Where to?” I ask, ready to take in all that Paris has to offer.
“I want to go to Galeries Lafayette,” Diana says, grabbing her white backpack and shrugging it on.
“You look like Dora the Explorer,” Kate says, then starts to sing “Backpack, backpack.” I hold my stomach as I laugh, and Diana glares at her.
“Grab the key,” I tell them as I grab my purse and slip it across my body. “On y va,” Let’s go, I say, and we all walk out. I pull out my phone and type in the address of the mall they want to go to. “It’s about a forty-minute walk.”
“Let’s walk,” Kate says. “We can burn off all the calories from those croissants.” Then she looks at me. “You especially since you didn’t share.”
“Me?” I point at myself, laughing. “I left half on the counter to go take a shower, and when I got back out, there was nothing left.”
Kate shrugs. “They are so good. Think we can order some to go home?”
“Probably,” Diana says while I look down at the phone and start walking. We take our time walking, stopping at little stores along the way to check things out.
“Look,” I say. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, I look up, pointing at the Eiffel Tower peeking out from between the buildings “It’s so pretty,” I say with a huge smile on my face. “Scratch that off the bucket list.” I take a picture of it through the trees, posting it to Instagram.
“It is pretty,” Kate says, taking her own picture.
As we continue walking, the whole thing just seems magical. People walking down the street, scooters zipping through the traffic, sounds of sirens in the distance. “We need to turn up here,” I tell them when my phone buzzes in my hand. We come face-to-face with the huge mall. “How is that a mall? It can’t be.” We walk across the street as I take in this building with the huge gold dome on the top, then open the door, and make our way in.
The three of us stop once we get inside. “This looks like a church,” Kate says as we look up at the huge painted glass dome ceiling. Every single floor is open, and you can look down; the painting on the arcs is almost like we are in a museum instead of a mall.
Kate’s phone dings, and she pulls it out. “Okay, she said she is going to meet us at Chez Louis”—she types something—“in forty minutes.”
“That sounds good,” I say while I continue to admire all the designs. “How far is it from here?”
“Oh my god,” Diana says, “look.” We both look over at her as she picks up roller skates. “Paris is so my style,” she says, looking to see if they’re her size.
“The restaurant is eight minutes from here,” Kate says as she joins us. “You know that Paris has fashion that will only get to us in a year. It’s almost like we are in the future but not.”
I roll my head. “No way.”
“Yes way,” Kate says. “They are avant-garde.”
“So you’re telling me that next year, all this neon shit is going to be in? That these fluorescent yellow overalls suit will be what everyone is going to be wearing?” I ask Kate, and she nods. “Then I’ll move here for the year.”
They both laugh at me as we walk around the mall till it’s time to go. When we walk outside, I stop and stare at the lights that are illuminating the night. “I thought Times Square was amazing at night, but this,” I say, spinning to take it all in, “this is so much more.”
We walk to the restaurant through the small streets. “This should be it,” Kate says, looking at the white awning covering some tables at the corner of the street. All tables outside are side by side, and the chairs are all facing toward the road.
“Look at that,” I say, pointing to a group of people who look like they are dancing. “You guys go ahead,” I tell them, walking toward the music. I get close enough to see that it’s a roller-skating exercise class. The instructor talks on a headset while she skates from right to left. I grab my phone to record it for a couple of seconds. Putting it back in my purse, I walk back to the restaurant.
I open the door, and the little bell above it rings. Stepping inside, I notice that there is glass all around us with tables. A man on the phone sits in the corner, and he glances at me. His dark eyes meet mine, and I smile. I don’t know why, but I do, then turn to walk up the three steps to the hostess desk. “Bonsoir.” A man in a suit smiles at me as I look around and spot the girls.
“Oh,” I say, “je suis avec les filles.” I am with the girls. I point at the table.
He smiles and nods at me while I walk to the table of four girls. “Hey,” I say, smiling and sitting in the empty chair at the end of the table.
Kate starts talking. “This is Meghan.” She looks at me and then at the girls. “This is Isabelle and Leigh.”
“Hi.” I smile at them. “Nice to meet you.”
The waiter arrives and pours us water. “Avez-vous des questions à poser sur le menu?”Is there questions on the menu? he asks, and I pick up my menu, looking at it.
“Avez- vous la carte des vins?” Do you have a wine list? Kate asks him, and he nods. Walking to the hostess stand, he brings back another brown menu. I smile at him. “Merci,” Thank you, I say, looking at the menu. “Here, they only have French wines.” I hand it to Kate.
“I’ve never heard of these wines,” she says, handing it to Diana. “They are all from France.”
“We should order the Chateau Alexandre,” Diana says.
“You’ve had it before?” Kate asks her.
“No, but it’s the middle of the board in price,” she says, grabbing a piece of bread the waiter just put down. Biting off a piece, she moans. “I would weigh seven thousand pounds if I lived here because all I would do is eat bread.” She smiles at us. “And almond croissants. Everyday. Bread and croissants.”
We start talking about our plans for the week. “We are definitely going to the lock bridge,” Diana says as the waiter comes back and uncorks the wine we ordered from him, pouring a bit in my glass.
I take a sip and nod at him, the warmness of the wine sliding down easily. “Perfect.” I smile and then look back at the menu while he pours the wine in the other glass. “on va prendre une autre bouteille.” We will take another bottle, I tell him. “avec le plateau de charcuterie pour commencer.” With a platter of meat and cheese.
He doesn’t say anything; he just nods. “Est-ce que je pourrais avoir un verre remplis de glaçons?” Kate asks for a glass of ice while he walks away. He looks a bit disgruntled.
“I think he’s overwhelmed,” Diana says, picking up her glass and raising it. “To one week in Paris with amazing friends.”
We all hold up our glasses and click them. “This wine is so good,” I say, taking another sip.
The talk is all about the week. “Where is my ice?” Kate asks, looking around and raising her hand for the waiter who stands at the counter as the chef in the back puts out a platter in front of him. He grabs it, then comes over, and places the wooden block in the middle of the table.
The square platter has five different meats on it with a little bowl of olives on one side and pickles on the other.
“Voilà” he says, and I look up at him while Kate smiles at him.
“Merci,” she says, still smiling. “Est-ce que je pourrais avoir un verre rempli de glaçons?” she asks again, and he just nods.
“Avec une carafe d’eau.” Diana asks him for some water.
I look around and notice that the restaurant has pretty much filled up. All the tables are now full, and I only see him working. “I think he’s the only waiter.”
“Okay,” Kate says, “but it’s not my fault.”
I take my glass of wine and finish it, picking up the bottle to pour myself just a drop since the bottle is empty. “Did he bring the other bottle?” I ask as I look at the table, wondering if he dropped it off without me knowing or seeing.
“No,” Diana says, grabbing a slice of salami. I look at the waiter as he comes back to the table this time with the bottle in his hand and a glass of ice cubes.
He places the cup of ice cubes in front of Kate, who smiles at him, and then uncorks the wine and places it on the table. Before we can even ask him anything, he takes off. “Seriously?” I say, grabbing my glass and pouring it myself.
“I think he’s all alone, and this place is rocking,” Diana says as I drink a sip of the wine, and my face grimaces.
“This isn’t good,” I say, putting the glass down and picking up the bottle to see if maybe it was a different name. “Taste this,” I say, giving Diana the glass and watching as she takes a sip.
“That’s bubbly,” she says, putting it down. “Look, there are bubbles in the wine.”
I look up and see the waiter zoom by with two plates in his hand, placing them down at a table nearby. “Excusez- moi.” I say while he walks back, and he turns to come back.
“Oui,” he says almost as if I bothered him.
“Le vin n’est pas bon,” The wine is not good I tell him, and he looks at me as if I just spit in his face.
“Pardon?” he asks, putting a hand to his chest.
I look at Kate who sits up. “C’est imbuvable.” you can’t drink it she says, and the look on his face is even worse than the last one. He puts his other hand to his chest, looking at us like we just spit in his face.
“Oh, dear god.” I hear Diana mumble from beside me, and I try not to laugh, looking back at the horror on his face.
“Try it,” I tell him. Forget about speaking French, I’m hoping to get him away from looking at Kate and back at me. “Look, it has bubbles in it.” I pick up my glass as he grabs the bottle and my glass and turns around, walking away without a single word. Not even a little grunt. I watch him go to the man who was sitting in the corner when I walked in. I watch them exchange words, and then I see him look at the wine and take the glass from him and smell it. “Is this guy for real?” I ask, and then I see him look up at me. “Oh, shit,” I say, seeing him look at me. He walks over or, better yet, he swaggers over. His blue suit fits him perfectly with the white button-down shirt without a tie at the neck. Instead, two open buttons show his bronze skin underneath. His midnight black hair is perfectly styled to the side, his face with a short beard.
Faux Pas Page 2