by K. C. Crowne
“Not just that,” he said. “The rings on their fingers were a clear indication they were married.”
“Maybe they’ve been married for a while now,” I said, smirking.
“No way,” he said, shaking his head. “Too young, for one. Neither one was older than their mid-twenties.”
“Maybe they got married young,” I said, enjoying contradicting him every chance I could get.
For some reason, it was fun to question him. Maybe because he was a successful doctor, I felt compelled to prove my intelligence to him. I couldn’t help but notice though, that he seemed to be enjoying the game as well.
“Sure, it’s possible they got married when they were teenagers, but there was one thing that gave it all away,” he said.
Colin leaned closer to me, pitching his voice low as if he were speaking conspiratorially. He was smiling again, though it was just a hint of one. His gaze was still intense, and his eyes bore into me, stealing my breath away for a second, his posture rigid and precise.
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I asked when I finally managed to regain my voice.
“Their shirts -- the couple came from my hotel,” he said.
I cocked my eyebrow at him and grinned. “And?”
“And I saw several couples wearing those same exact shirts,” he said. “So I asked someone about it, and apparently the writing on the shirts say Newlywed in French. It’s a gift for the tourists coming here on their honeymoon.”
My jaw dropped. I hadn’t really paid attention to the inscription was on their shirts. Hell, to be honest, I didn’t even notice they were matching shirts at all. For a second, I wanted to call him out, tell him that there was no way he could have known that, but before I got a chance, he burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Your face,” he said, wiping the tears from his eyes from laughing so hard. “You believed me, didn’t you?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I made all that up. I have no clue if they were American or not, let alone whether they’re newlyweds or not,” he cackled. “So far as I know, there are no shirts at my hotel for honeymooners.”
I reached across the table and smacked his arm, mumbling, “Asshole.”
Still, his laughter was contagious, and before long, I found myself joining in. He’d won that round. He’d beaten me at my own little game. But paybacks were a bitch.
“You know, if this doctor thing doesn’t work out,” I teased. “Maybe you should become a comedian.”
He shrugged. “I dunno. I’m pretty good at being a doctor,” he replied. “Besides, I hear the pay sucks for comedians. How about writers?”
I had a good gig going for me. I got to travel mostly for free and enjoyed a few other perks. But truthfully, I barely made ends meet. I worked on a freelance basis, was paid by the piece, and if my editor decided to go another direction or that I was no longer performing to her standards, well, I’d be out of a job and likely homeless before long.
I didn’t make enough to throw into the bank and build up a nest egg or anything and was always living on the edge. I made just enough to get by and maybe had a little extra in the bank to splurge on a nice meal now and then.
“Can’t you tell by my haute couture?” I asked, sweeping my hands over my simple Gap capris and slouchy boyfriend t-shirt.
He grinned in response and it hit me right in the gut. I really liked making him smile.
“Alright,” I said, throwing my hands up. “You got me there. But still, I get paid to travel around the world, and I get to write about it. It’s an experience few get to enjoy, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything -- not even for a job that paid six figures.”
“Fair enough,” he said, finishing the last of his wine as the waiter brought us our food.
My stomach was growling, and I was ready to dig into my crepe, when I noticed Colin looking at his plate with a look on his face that was cycling between confusion and disgust.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I have no clue what I ordered, and just trying to figure it all out,” he said with a chuckle.
I laughed, which made his cheeks flare with color as he tried to ignore me. Finally, he shrugged, picked up his fork and dug in, and I followed right along with him. The inside of my mouth exploded with flavor as soon as the first bit of the crepe hit my tongue and I moaned with pleasure -- no doubt sounding entirely inappropriate for a public setting. Colin laughed and took another bite of his food.
“How long are you in Paris for, Hope?” he asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.
“Originally, I was scheduled to be here an entire week, but that might change,” I said.
“Thinking of extending the trip for a bit?”
“No, I might have to cut it short,” I said, piling a bite of goat cheese and honey into my mouth.
My food choice probably not the best choice for a diabetic, especially since I was drinking wine too, but it had sounded too good to pass up. And it really was worth it. I’d probably pay for it later, but I was going to enjoy the hell out of it now.
“Oh? Why’s that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he peered intently at me from across the table.
Shrugging, I tried to play it off as no big deal. Inside though, I was freaking out and still in a rage about it all. How could I not be? The whole trip was just another bad reminder of that asshole and everything he did.
“Well, one of the original reasons for my trip here was to write about spending a romantic week here with my boyfriend,” I said. “All the romantic sights from a couple of young lovers. Sounds nice, right?”
At the mention of my boyfriend, a strange look passed over Colin’s face that wasn’t all that difficult to interpret. Dare I say, he looked more than a little disappointed. I knew the question that was going to follow so I quickly continued before he could ask me about it.
“But we broke up about two months back,” I said. “I never got around to telling my editor that the focus of the piece wasn’t going to be what we thought it was. I think on some level, I assumed we’d get back together before the trip, but I wouldn’t take him back if we were the last two people on the planet and were tasked by the Lord himself to repopulate the earth.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.
I wasn’t sure he was actually all that sorry about my break up, but at least he tried to pretend to be.
“Nah, it’s all good. I found out what a jackass he really was, and to be honest, I’m better off,” I said. “I just need to find a way to salvage this mess and not lose my job in the process.”
“Any ideas?” he asked.
I bit my lip and looked up at him. I remembered Anna’s idea about dating around while I was there. About finding other men to enjoy the romance of the city with. I didn’t want to put Colin in a weird situation, and honestly, I wasn’t even sure it was a good idea to begin with. But the idea kept bouncing around in my head regardless.
“I don’t know,” I muttered, looking down at my hands to avoid looking him in the eye.
“Ah, but you do have an idea. I can see that plain as day,” he said. “You’re just not sure about it.”
“How did you --” I glanced back up at him. “I mean, why would you say that?”
“Well, I didn’t know for sure when I said it. But you’ve confirmed it now,” he said, his tone light and playful.
“I didn’t confirm or deny anything,” I said.
He took a forkful of food and chowed down on it, never taking his eyes off me. He studied me like I was some anatomical diagram he needed to memorize for a test. His gaze was direct and penetrating, but I could tell that despite his best efforts, he couldn’t exactly figure me out.
He just smirked at me, letting the silence fall over us. The ball was in my court, and he was apparently going to wait me out and not say a word until I bounced it back. I thought about it for a moment and thought that there was no harm in running the id
ea past someone else. Maybe an outsider would have some insight that I currently didn’t have or could offer some other angle to take.
I told myself it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean he would want to spend time with me, and even if he did, I didn’t have to agree to it.
“Fine,” I said, dropping my fork and leaning back in the booth, my eyes fixed on his. “My best friend thinks I should take a different angle with the article by dating around the city. She suggested I go out, find myself a local Parisian man and experience the fleeting ecstasy of a short-term romance, while still seeing the sights and giving me plenty of material to write about.”
“Does this man have to be a local?” he asked without missing a beat, his eyes sparkling mischievously.
Inwardly, my heart raced at his question and a jolt of heat went straight to my naughty bits. The idea of seeing more of the gorgeous man was tempting. But outwardly, I cringed at the idea. We hardly knew each other, and to spend an entire week with a stranger didn’t exactly sound appealing to me. It sounded a bit scary to be honest.
Even if that stranger was handsome and charming, and so far, not the least bit creepy.
“Well, no, there are no rules really,” I admitted. “I’m pretty much just making them up as I go.”
“Perfect,” he said. “What do we need to do first?”
“We?” I asked, staring at him like he’d just suggested we run off to Vegas and elope.
“Yeah, why not?” he shrugged. “We’re both alone in Paris with nothing but time on our hands. Why not spend some of that time taking in the city together?”
Questions swirled in my head faster than I could keep up. What exactly was he proposing?
“I mentioned that the article was meant to be romantic in nature, right?” I threw out there.
“You said it was about dating in one of the most romantic cities in the world, so I assumed there was a romantic theme to it,” he replied. “I mean, we could see the sights together, and see what happens. Anything beyond that, well, I can’t make any promises.”
“What do you mean -- beyond that?” I asked, feeling my chest tighten up at the thought of being romanced by someone like him.
My ex had been a decent looking guy, but he wasn’t even on the same level as Colin. He was a waiter in Los Angeles, trying to make it as a movie star. He was fairly attractive, or so I'd thought at the time. But next to a man like Colin, Jeremy didn’t even hold a candle.
“I just mean that I’m not looking for anything serious,” he said, giving me a crooked grin. “Whatever happens in Paris, however, I’m open to seeing where it goes.”
“You’re not married, are you?” I asked, the words flying from my mouth before I had a second to think about them. “Because if you’re just trying to find some naive woman to cheat on your wife with, you’re -- ”
He laughed so loudly that the other patrons nearby stared at us. An older couple nearby glared at us, their expression that of Parisians tired of dealing with the stereotypical loud and obnoxious Americans. Colin was so focused on me though, he didn’t even seem to notice.
“Married? Oh hell no,” he said, his laughter fading. His smile was also gone, replaced by a more serious expression. He cleared his throat, and then added, “I just got out of a long-term relationship. We’d been together for almost a decade, and --”
“Jesus,” I said. “I thought I’d wasted a long time on Jeremy. What happened?”
He flinched. “I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s okay?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything,” I said, sounding more sarcastic than I’d intended, so I added. “I mean, not officially or anything. And I still need to think about this. Dinner is one thing, what you’re talking about is something else entirely. I’m not sure I’m ready to just spend a week with a complete stranger, you know?”
Colin nodded. “I get it. You don’t know me. I could be a creep. I promise you, I’m not. But, if you don’t trust me, I understand and wish you the best with your article, Hope.”
He stood, and we both reached for the bill at the same time. Our hands touched briefly, before I pulled away. I couldn’t help but feel the electrical charge between us. The skin on my hand still felt warm from where his had been.
“It’s on me,” he said with a wink.
“No, seriously, I can’t let you do that.”
“I wasn’t asking permission, Hope,” he said. He pulled out a credit card and slipped it into the little pocket of the check book, passing it to the waiter as he walked by. “But I am asking you to consider my offer. It would be to both of our benefit after all.”
“How would it benefit you?” I asked meekly, almost afraid of his answer.
Was he thinking it would be an easy way to get me into bed? Because if so and I was even going to consider his suggestion, I had to make it clear I wasn’t going to give it up so easily. I’d only been with one person, and I wasn’t about to hop into bed with the first handsome stranger I met on a whim.
No matter how insanely hot he was or how tempting it might be. He sighed, and without skipping a beat, answered my question.
“Because, without someone forcing me to have fun, there’s a good chance I’ll spend my time holed up in my hotel room, on my laptop, working when I’m supposed to be relaxing,” he said, sounding exasperated with himself. “And that wouldn’t be good for my mental health, trust me.”
Before I could respond, he pressed something into my hand. I looked down and saw that it was a card. Not his business card like i might have expected, but one for a hotel.
My hotel, to be exact.
I didn’t mention that little fact, however. I took the card and waited for an explanation I knew was coming.
“If you decide to take me up on the offer,” he said. “Call me there. Room 209. Or stop by, if you feel daring.”
I stared down at the card for a long time, without saying anything. He was presenting me with a chance to get my article written, to explore the city with a gorgeous man, and maybe even have a little bit of fun. He seemed to be a decent guy and I wasn’t getting a creepy vibe from him. I didn’t feel unsafe in his presence, which I took to be a good thing. Though, I obviously wasn’t always the best judge of character, given how everything played out with my ex.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, tucking the card away into my purse.
The waiter came back and dropped off the check book. Colin slipped his card back into his wallet and then signed the check in silence. When he was done, he looked up at me, his eyes no less intense, but with a look of absolute desire in them.
“Good,” he said, as soon as he was finished paying. “Either way, it was nice running into you, Hope.”
He smirked, and I couldn’t help but grin at his terrible joke.
“Thank you for dinner, Colin,” I said.
With a nod, he turned and left. I watched him go, completely frozen in place. I wanted to call out to him. I wanted to say something. But all I did was watch him as he exited the restaurant, his ass looking so delicious in those tight jeans he was wearing. Everything about him just screamed that he was too good to be true, which set off warning bells in my head. I was definitely jaded from my last experience.
Still, it was one week, I told myself. What harm could come from it? We both knew what to expect; we knew to not get attached. What was I so afraid of?
As I left the restaurant, I made sure to take my time walking back to my hotel. Just in case I decided to not go through with it, I didn’t want Colin to realize we were staying at the same place. No need to make the rest of my stay awkward.
But I knew if I didn’t take him up on his offer, my stay, and possibly my career, would be cut short. If I came back empty handed, my editor wasn’t going to be pleased with me. So, the fear of awkwardness and running into him was moot anyway. It about survival at that point.
“I hope you’re fucking kidding me right now, Hope,” Anna scolded me on t
he other end of the line. “You mean to tell me, he offered himself up to you, to be used for your article -- or just plain used -- and you turned him down? And why would you do something that exceedingly stupid, exactly?”
“I haven’t turned him down yet,” I said.
“Good. Because you’re going to tell him it’s on,” she said.
I rolled over on my bed, laying on my tummy, groaning as I buried my head into a pillow.
“It’s not that easy, Anna,” I said.
“And why isn’t it that easy? You’re both adults, you’re open about what you want, I see nothing wrong with this arrangement. And it also saves your job,” she said. “From where I’m standing, it should be very easy.”
“But he’s freaking gorgeous. And he’s a doctor,” I said.
“Those sound like more reasons to call him up if you ask me,” she said. “Hell, if you don’t, I just might. I wouldn’t mind dating a hot doctor.”
“But what would we even talk about?” I asked, rolling over again to stare at the ceiling.
“Who said anything about talking?” she teased.
When I didn’t laugh, she cleared her throat and tried to put on her serious tone again.
“Seriously, Hope. You’ll find something to talk about. You’ve got the gift of gab,” she said. “And if you don’t? It’s only a week and you’ll never have to see him again.”
She had a point. It wasn’t like we were going to be together. It was a very temporary arrangement. There was no need for me to impress him or to worry about what he thought about me. I was pretty confident, most of the time, but the idea of living up to the expectations of someone like Colin intimidated me a bit. But Anna was right. It was a week and because it was such a temporary thing, I shouldn’t care so much.
“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re right. I’ll give him a call, tomorrow,” I said. “It’s getting late.”
“It’s not that late there yet,” she said.
“Late enough. I’m still jet lagged, and he said he was exhausted from a conference, so it’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”