Honeymoon in Paris

by Juliette Sobanet

  My cheeks blazed with heat as I thought of Mireille with her critical editorial eye reading through my first draft ideas. “I’m so sorry, Mireille. I’ll come take it off your hands—”

  “There’s no need to apologize,” she cut me off. “As much as I hate to admit it when I’m wrong, I have no choice but to do so in this instance. You have quite a voice, and I think Bella France’s new readership will think so too.”

  Was Mireille actually complimenting my writing? I walked over to the side of the old cobblestone street and listened to make sure I was hearing her right.

  “We’re just getting the online portion of our magazine up and running, and I’d like to offer you a weekly column, turning your chapter ideas into articles. You’ll continue your theme—The Girl’s Guide to Tying the French Knot—and you’ll write the column in both English and French for Bella Magazine in the US and for Bella France. Yours will be the voice that connects our two magazines, so we’ll need you to be quite serious about your commitment if you are to accept.”

  “Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You’ll say yes, that’s what you’ll say. This is an opportunity that most girls would dream—”

  “Yes, Mireille, I accept,” I cut in. “Thank you so much.”

  “I expect the first column in my in-box by the first of October. My assistant will send you more details, and I’d like for you to stop by the office as soon as you can to sign your new contract, and of course to pick up your journal.”

  “Of course. That all sounds wonderful.”

  Just as I thought Mireille was about to hang up, she softened her voice. “And Charlotte, I’m happy you’re okay. I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

  “Thank you, Mireille. I’m doing just fine now. I’m sorry for what happened to you too.”

  “As you’ll soon learn, you have to have a thick skin in this business. It’s no different with men. Remember, October first. Don’t be late.”

  As I hung up the phone, I had to stop myself from skipping down the cobblestones like a giddy schoolgirl. Who would’ve thought the hard-ass editor-in-chief of Bella France would actually enjoy reading my ideas? And that she would offer me a job because of them?

  Lexi had been right that day we’d had wine at Les Deux Magots Café in Paris: a woman should never give up her voice or her career dreams for a man.

  When I arrived at the crêperie, Lexi and Fiona were already seated outside enjoying a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

  I filled the girls in on my career news before we launched into our usual laughter-filled chatter.

  “Lexi, I still cannot believe you are actually dating Nicolas Boucher,” I said. “I hope you don’t think I’m still imagining him naked on that piano.”

  Lexi laughed. “I actually told Nicolas to buy a piano so we can recreate the scene ourselves.”

  “Oh my God, I hate you,” I joked.

  Lexi smiled. “Bring on all the hate you want, ladies. I’ve never been happier in my life.”

  I placed a hand on Lexi’s arm. “You know I’m only kidding. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Oh, don’t lie, Char,” Fiona cut in. “We all hate her a little bit. I mean, she’s sleeping with Nicolas Boucher!”

  “Shhh!” Lexi hissed. “Seriously Fiona, everyone within a ten-mile radius just heard you say that.”

  “I’d be shouting it from the rooftops if I were you,” I said.

  “The tabloids are already doing a fine job of that,” Lexi said with a smirk. “You know we’ve already been featured on five magazine covers since we started dating.”

  “Oh, don’t act like you don’t love the attention,” I teased.

  Lexi grinned at me. “You know me so well. I adore it. And I adore Nicolas. I had no idea a relationship could be this fun or this easy. We haven’t fought once!”

  “The first six months are always the best,” Fiona said. “Report back to me in five years.”

  The waiter arrived with four plates of steaming hot crêpes filled to the brim with cheese, ham, and veggies. After we’d all taken our first delicious bites, Lexi turned to Fiona.

  “How are things going with you and Marc now that we know for sure it was Marcel and Isabelle kissing on the balcony?”

  The smile on Fiona’s face as Lexi spoke those words was priceless. I’d called Fiona from the hospital after the lingerie store incident to tell her what Marcel had said about her insistence on sleeping in the nude.

  Fiona had confirmed that she did, in fact, always sleep in the nude, but that still hadn’t been enough to convince her of her innocence. So, when Luc told me they were administering a polygraph test to everyone involved in Vincent’s scheme, I’d asked him to throw in a question about what had happened that night, and he’d agreed. Thankfully, the polygraph results had proven that nothing had happened between Marcel and Fiona—not even a kiss.

  “Things are much better,” Fiona said, her grin widening. “And actually, I have some news.”

  “Oooh, do tell,” Lexi said.

  “The first bit is that last Saturday, Marc had a talk with his evil mother. He told her that if she didn’t start making an effort to be kinder to me, she would never again be welcome in our home.”

  “I knew Marc had it in him,” I said. “I bet that didn’t go over so well with Madame Rousseau, though.”

  “Of course not. She left in a huff, but I’m sure the next piece of news will change her mind.…” Fiona trailed off, shooting me a wink.

  “What is it?” Lexi asked. “Do you know already, Charlotte?”

  I smiled. “If it’s what I think it is, then yes, I might have an idea.”

  Lexi pinched Fiona’s arm. “Well, tell us already! I’m dying here.”

  Fiona grinned, then patted her stomach. “I’m pregnant!”

  Lexi’s eyes widened to the size of quarters as she stared at Fiona’s still flat tummy. “You’re pregnant? Are you serious?”

  Fiona’s sweet smile widened. “I know it’s a shock. Trust me, no one could’ve been more surprised than I was. And you should’ve seen Marc’s face when I told him.”

  “I wondered why you haven’t been drinking,” Lexi said as she stood to hug Fiona. “That’s fantastic. A mini Fiona or a mini Marc… You two are going to have the most adorable baby!”

  “Will there be wedding bells anytime soon?” I asked.

  “We’re talking about it, of course, but first we’re just getting used to the idea of having a baby. It’s not what we expected to happen so soon after moving in together, but Marc is so excited that I can hardly not be. Motherhood, here I come!”

  I squeezed Fiona’s hand. “You’re going to be the best mom, Fiona. I know it.”

  “As long as we don’t have any more memory-erasing champagne nights that land us in the tabloids, I think I’ll be just fine.”

  Giggles erupted from the table as we finished our crêpes. When the waiter returned to clear our plates, I was about to order dessert, but the girls stopped me.

  “We’re going to have dessert somewhere else today, Charlotte,” Lexi said with a sneaky grin.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, but when Lexi avoided my gaze, I turned to Fiona. “Do you know what’s going on here?”

  “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t,” she said as she grabbed her purse and winked at me. “You’ll just have to come with us.”

  Ten minutes later, after the girls had led me out of Vieux Lyon, across the Saône River, and onto the Presqu’île of Lyon, we arrived at the door of a beautiful apartment building near the Hôtel de Ville.

  Lexi buzzed one of the apartments, and within seconds the large red door clicked open.

  “Who lives here?” I asked the girls.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Fiona said as she shot Lexi a knowing glance.

  The girls ushered me through a long, dark hallway and into a mini elevator.

  “What is going on?” I asked for the millionth time since we’d left the crêp
erie.

  Lexi pressed the button to the top floor, then smiled over at me. “Don’t you have any faith in us?”

  When the elevator doors opened onto the sixth floor, we emerged to a beautiful balcony with a breathtaking view of the rooftops of Lyon and the majestic Fourvière Basilica up on the hillside.

  “What is this?” I mumbled, but the girls only giggled as they led me along the balcony to the sole apartment door on this floor.

  Before we even had a chance to knock, Luc opened the door, his chestnut eyes glinting in the sunlight as he grinned at me. “Welcome home, chérie.”

  “What—?” I started, but Luc had already taken my hand and kissed me on the cheek.

  “You’ll see. Just come in,” he said.

  As soon as I walked into the foyer, the divine aroma of melted dark chocolate wafted past me, but I didn’t have time to figure out where it was coming from because a chorus of familiar voices shouted in French, “Surprise!”

  Inside a beautiful living room stood Adeline, Luc’s sister Sandrine, his mother Michèle, Fiona’s boyfriend Marc, and Nicolas. Fiona and Lexi joined their respective men while everyone smiled at me, and I stared back at them all in a state of confusion.

  Adeline ran up to me and hugged my leg. “This is our new home, Charlotte!” she squealed in French. “Daddy got it for us. He said we’ll fit better here. Isn’t it pretty?”

  I scooped Adeline up and kissed her on the forehead before looking over to Luc. “Are you serious? We’re moving here?”

  Luc shot me a devious grin. “Yes, mon amour. Now that we are a family, I thought we needed a home that was bigger than the size of a closet.”

  I laughed as I glanced around at the shiny hardwood floors and the glistening French windows which opened to the most stunning view of the city. “It’s incredible, Luc. Thank you so much.”

  He gave both me and Adeline a kiss on the cheek. “Only the best for my two girls.”

  “Come on,” Sandrine said. “You haven’t even seen the rest. My brother really outdid himself this time.”

  “I’d say after what happened to Charlotte last week, she deserves a fresh start,” Michèle said.

  All of our friends and family trailed us through the new apartment as Adeline took my hand and led me from room to room, jumping up and down and giggling like the adorable little girl she was.

  In addition to the large, sunlit living room, our new home had three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and the biggest closet I’d ever seen in France. When Adeline pulled me into the quaint kitchen, I quickly discovered where the scent of chocolate was coming from.

  Luc removed two large cake pans from the oven. “What better way to start off our new life in our new home than to share a little fondant au chocolat with all of our friends?” Luc said before placing the pans on the stove and, once again, giving me one of his knee-weakening grins.

  “Do you like, mon amour?”

  I didn’t care that everyone was watching. I wrapped my arms around Luc’s neck and kissed him on the lips. “J’adore,” I said before kissing him once more.

  Nicolas walked up to us and patted Luc on the back. “I told you this is an honest guy, Charlotte,” he said in French.

  Luc laughed, then patted Nicolas on the shoulder. “It’s so good to be your friend again.”

  Lexi winked at me as the guys started talking and Fiona and Marc came in for a group hug.

  Finally, after the excitement settled down a bit, Luc and his mother served us all a piece of fondant au chocolat, which apparently Luc had made all on his own while I’d been out to lunch with the girls.

  As I savored my first bite of gooey, melted dark chocolate, I turned to my husband and squeezed his knee under the table.

  “Will the surprises ever end with you?” I whispered in his ear.

  Luc winked at me, flashing his sexy grin and his even sexier dimple. “I hope not, ma belle.”

  As he gave me a chocolaty kiss on the lips, I hoped the good surprises would never end either.

  EPILOGUE

  As it turned out, Luc’s surprises had only just begun. The day after he’d gifted me and Adeline with a new, beautiful apartment for the three of us in the heart of Lyon, he’d woken me up by telling me to pack my bags for Paris so we could do our Paris honeymoon right: no secrets, no drama, and no ex-wife.

  I’d insisted on taking Adeline with us because we were a family now… and to be honest, after what had happened with Isabelle, I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving our little girl behind. Luc admitted he’d been hoping I’d want to bring her with us.

  So, on day twenty-nine of our blissful lune de miel, after three magnificent days in Paris and a scrumptious family dinner of Nutella crêpes, we walked toward La Tour Eiffel at Adeline’s insistence to get one last glimpse of the impressive monument before we headed back to Lyon in the morning.

  “Papa, is it okay if I call Charlotte ‘maman’?” Adeline whispered in Luc’s ear as he held her in his arms.

  Luc grinned at me before whispering back to her, “I think Charlotte would like that very much.”

  Adeline handed Luc the stuffed penguin she’d been carrying around all night before lunging in my direction and throwing her tiny arms around my neck. “Je t’aime, maman,” she said sweetly.

  I hugged her back and told her I loved her too.

  Just then, the tower lit up in a show of brilliant, twinkling white lights. I pointed up to the sky. “Adeline, look. The tower is sparkling!”

  She lifted her excited gaze to the beautiful Paris lights, then rested her head on my shoulder.

  Luc wrapped his arm around my waist as the three of us strolled underneath the shimmering Tour Eiffel, one happy little French family with a lifetime of adventures yet to be had.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I would like to send a warm thank you to my amazing Montlake editor, Kelli Martin. Your excitement is contagious, and I am so grateful to have the opportunity to work with you on my Paris books. To the entire dream team at Amazon Publishing and Montlake Romance, thank you for all of the hard work that goes on behind the scenes to bring my stories to readers.

  To Andrea Hurst, editor extraordinaire. Thank you for helping me to make this novel shine. And to my fabulous agent, Kevan Lyon. I am truly grateful to have you on my side.

  I would like to thank my husband, Sean, for being there for me through deadlines and the occasional (or frequent) writer’s meltdown. Your love and support mean everything to me.

  To Sophie Moss and Angie Tennis, for taking spur-of-the-moment trips to France with me, and for the memories we made there that inspired some of the scenes in this book. And to all of my friends in Paris and Lyon who have shown me around my favorite cities, shared a glass of wine with me at a sidewalk café, and given me story ideas. Merci.

  Special thanks to Alana Albertson for reading early chapters of this novel, and for urging me to make it even juicier. And to all of my talented writing friends who’ve taught me so much, especially Karen Johnston, Sharon Wray, Mary Lenaburg, Sophie Moss, Marion Croslydon, and Tracy Hewitt Meyer. Words can’t express my gratitude.

  To all of my fabulous girlfriends from Ohio to DC, New York to Paris, San Diego to Seattle, and everywhere in between. You never cease to uplift and inspire me, and I am so blessed to have each of you in my life.

  To my mom, for saving every story and poem I’ve ever written, and for encouraging me to follow my dreams even when no one else did. Thank you so much. And to my dad, for always making me laugh.

  Finally, I would like to thank my loyal readers for taking another trip to Paris with me in the pages of this book. I hope you enjoy reading about Charlotte’s adventures as much as I enjoyed writing them! Thank you for making this journey so rewarding.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Photograph © Kevyn Major Howard 2006

  Juliette Sobanet is a former French professor who writes sassy, romantic women’s fiction with a French twist. She is the author of Sleeping with Paris, Ki
ssed in Paris, Dancing with Paris, Midnight Train to Paris, and Honeymoon in Paris. Juliette holds a B.A. from Georgetown University and an M.A. from New York University in France, and she has lived and studied in both Paris and Lyon. She recently relocated to sunny San Diego, California, where she lives with her husband and their two massive cats. When she’s not writing, she’s eating chocolate, practicing yoga, or scheming on when she can travel back to France. Visit Juliette’s website at www.juliettesobanet.com.