Page 18 of Frenched (Frenched 1)
I shrugged, refusing to look at him. “It might be. A little.”
“Get a book of ten.”
I paid by credit card and put nine tickets inside my wallet. Lucas had some kind of pass he swiped, and I fed my ticket into the machine and followed him through the turnstile. At that point he wanted me to lead the way, so I looked at all the signs carefully before choosing which tunnel to take.
When we arrived at the tracks, Lucas held up his hand and I high-fived him. “Way to go, princess. You successfully navigated the metro. I have confidence you can get yourself anywhere in Paris now, even when you’re on your own.”
“Thank you.” I took a small bow, but I felt a twinge of sadness when I imagined myself doing all this alone.
While we waited for the train, Lucas asked me what I did back in Detroit.
“I’m an event planner.”
He burst out laughing. “Of course you are.”
Indignant, I stuck my hands on my hips. “What’s funny about that?”
“Nothing.” He stopped guffawing but couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. “It’s the perfect job for you. I bet you’re really good at it.”
“I am, thank you very much.” I sniffed, slinging my bag higher on my shoulder. “I worked for someone else for a while after college and then started my own business when I was only twenty-five. Well, my best friend and I started it—she had inherited some money and we’d always wanted to do something together. So we went for it.”
He looked impressed. “Very cool. How’s it going?”
“Very well, actually. We were on the news last year for being two of the top up-and-coming young entrepreneurs in the city. We got a lot of business out of that, weddings mostly, but a bunch of them are pretty big-budget.” A flicker of discomfort on Lucas’s face made me pause, and for a second I wondered what I’d said wrong until I realized I’d mentioned weddings. But surprisingly, neither the word nor the idea bothered me.
Huh.
“And what’s the name of your company?”
“Devine Events. Devine is my last name.”
He smiled at me again, but it was softer. More admiring than amused. “It suits you.”
At that moment the train pulled into the station, roaring along the tracks as a blush warmed my face. I dropped my eyes to the ground. What the hell? Was he flirting with me? Was flirting allowed on this tour? And what’s with the way my heart was beating? It felt huge and clumsy in my chest as we boarded the train.
There was only one empty seat, and Lucas gestured for me to sit. He remained standing, and even though the train’s movement wasn’t smooth, he didn’t hold on to anything, just stood in the aisle with his feet planted wide and his arms crossed. Why that turned me on a little, I had no idea, but I felt a stir low in my belly.
Hmm. I guess he’s growing on me.
Haha, growing on me.
Turning my cheek so he couldn’t see the smile I was trying to hide, I berated myself for the dirty thought. Stop it, Mia. And don’t even look at his crotch right now. Don’t do it, don’t do it, don’t—
I did it. I couldn’t help myself.
It wasn’t a longing gaze or anything, more like just a passing glance, and it didn’t tell me anything, but I was still scared he’d noticed. I switched my focus to my sneakers.
A few stops later, the seat next to me was vacated and Lucas sat down. “So are you a cemetery person? Was Père Lachaise on your list?”
“I don’t know if I’d call myself a cemetery person, but I believe it was on the list. Remind me who’s buried there?”
“Lots of people. But names you’d know are Jim Morrison, Edith Piaf, Chopin, Oscar Wilde, Balzac, Gertrude Stein…”
I raised my eyebrows. “I’m impressed, Professor Fournier.”
He shrugged. “I’m a cemetery person. I think they’re beautiful and relaxing. Peaceful.”
I considered it. “Yeah, I can see that.”
