Page 33 of One Week in Paris
“Yeah, did you tell your mom?”
I nod. “I did. She refuses to believe me. Now she hates me.”
“Oh crap… I’m sorry.”
I take his hand and lead him to my sofa. “Anyway, I have good news for you. You’re coming with me,” I tell him, excited as a kid, “to Paris.”
He studies me for a second, confused. “Why? What’s changed?”
“Well, there’s a catch…” I explain. “Corrie can pay for her own ticket, so she’s coming too. But I wanted extra backup.”
His brows knit together. He’s very cute when his brows do that. “Extra backup?”
I shift on the sofa and tuck my legs in. “Corrie and I want to break up the wedding, and we’ll need help.”
Oscar’s eyes are wide as saucers. “What?”
“We can’t let her marry the jerk. She’s going to be destroyed. I know all the plans are made, but I mean…”
Oscar is completely speechless. He obviously thinks I’ve gone crazy.
“Well, look at Maeve… she got dumped at the altar, and she ended up with someone else. And she’s one of the happiest woman I know. If she’d married Peter, she’d probably be miserable.”
He chews on his lower lip, mulling this over. “Well, if you think…”
I can tell he’s not quite on board.
“Well, I can tell you one thing,” he says. “I’m glad that dickwad won’t be your new brother.”
“Yeah, actually turns out, Matt’s not so bad. He seems to have grown out of it.”
Oscar’s expression shifts swiftly. “You’re telling me you like the guy now? Even after all he’s done to you? Just because he treated you to a nice dinner.”
“No, it’s just… he’s actually nice now.”
Oscar shakes his head. “Whatever. Once a jerk, always a jerk.”
“I don’t want to fight again, Oscar,. Are you in or not?”
He closes the distance between us. A slow mischievous smile curves his lips. “You. Bed. Paris. I’m in.”
I smile, and as his hand slides slowly up my thigh, I forget all about my mother’s troubles.
