Page 37 of One Week in Paris
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Mom sends me a very curt text:
FYI: Wedding Agenda.
Sending you this information again, in case you’ve forgotten.
Tues: Rehearsal.
Rehearsal dinner 6:00 PM and cocktails 8:00 PM: Hotel Athénée
Thursday: La Vigne de Paris Bagatelle
Ceremony: 3:00 PM.
Photo shoot: 4:00 PM.
Cocktails: 5:00 PM
Dinner and reception: 6:00 PM
Don’t be late!
OH YES,THE WEDDING. The reason we’re here. I’ve been so caught up in Paris, I almost completely forgot that I’m supposed to break this thing up. I don’t even know where to start. I don’t even know where my mother is staying.
* * *
Jules Verne is amazing.The views of Paris are to die for and the decor is soothing; contemporary leather chairs, crisp white linens, and geometric shapes surround us. It’s classy and cool.
Matt is smiling at me, and for a second, I see the boy I first met at that corner store. For a moment, everything’s forgotten. He looks good tonight. He’s wearing a stylish blue grey sweater and slim black pants. His hair is slicked back, and five o-clock shadow traces his jaw. He looks painfully sexy. I hate that I’m still attracted to him after all he’s put me through.
His gaze lingers on me, and I recognize his expression — I’m pretty sure he wants to do wicked things to me. I don’t even let my mind entertain the possibility.
“We’re about four hundred feet up in the air,” he tells me. “Nothing beats this.”
The glittering lights of the cityscape seem to dance. “I agree.”
I feel like someone else, someone beautiful, sophisticated and worldly. I wonder if he makes all his dates feel this way. I remind myself to be guarded. Like his philandering father, he probably can’t be trusted.
“The food here is great too,” he goes on. “Michelin graded.”
I nod and peruse the menu. A six-course meal; foie gras, lobster, caviar, with a six wine pairing. I don’t think I’ve had a six-course meal before. I don’t even want to think how many calories I will consume tonight. I briefly get anxious at the thought of getting sick. My body does not respond too well to rich foods.
We start off with our first course, a delicious salad. Our server is very attractive and has a sexy French accent, but it doesn’t seem to distract Matt. All his attention is on me. “So…” he says. He seems as nervous as I am, at a loss for words. “My dad and your mom… crazy, right?”
“Yes, crazy.”
Yep, crazy, and I’m going to stop it. I just don’t know how, yet.
“My dad is crazy about your mom.”
Your dad will destroy her life.
He swirls the wine in his glass and chews on his bottom lip. “He’s always crazy about women. I think he’s addicted to them.”
“A real ladies’ man, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
