the most intense eyes ever completed the look.
I had been ready to remove my panties discreetly under my desk when Fiona came back and my sexy reverie was over in a damn hurry. As fast as my mouse would allow, I closed the pictures of him, silently cursing myself that I hadn’t thought ahead to email any to my personal account for private viewing later.
I had shaken my head clear of those horny thoughts and leaned back in my chair. The last thing I needed was a desperate crush on a male model I worked with. I would need to keep my wits about me if I expected to survive the next few months living in close proximity to him. Not to mention pack a big supply of batteries. Yes, an extra suitcase full of batteries oughtta do the trick.
3
Emmy
After a relaxing weekend watching Netflix and lounging with Ellie, it was back to the grind Monday morning. Oddly, Fiona seemed like she was in a great mood for once; her smile was sincere as she greeted me.
“Good morning, Emerson.”
“Morning?” I wasn’t sure what to make of her sudden shift in attitude. The number of Post-its on my desk reflected her good mood. There was just one.
It took me a second to realize that CDG was the Charles de Gaulle International Airport in Paris. I didn’t wait to be told twice. Using the credit card Fiona had given me for business purposes, I booked an overnight flight out that Friday night. Same as Fiona’s. I wouldn’t have a clue how to navigate Paris if I landed there on my own.
I wasn’t sure when Ben was flying out but I’d overheard that he would be there a few days before us to visit a friend.
That week leading up to our trip was crazy busy. During the day, I organized the many details that were Fiona’s life: coordinating her weekly massage appointments to take place in Paris, ensuring I had a whole caseload of her favorite brand of English Breakfast tea, and arranging the Post-it note bible in alphabetical order, with subsections according to things I thought might pertain to our trip.
My evenings were spent shopping with Ellie and packing everything I owned into two rolling suitcases. It was weird to think I’d be gone for three whole months. Ellie even had someone lined up to sublet my room while I was away. My life was about to be totally turned upside down, and I couldn’t have been more excited.
Pushing the strap of my duffle bag higher on my shoulder, I squeezed through the narrow aisle as I boarded the flight. I spotted Fiona sitting in the third row of first class, glass of champagne in hand, flirting with the businessman beside her. The stewardess leaned over to pass her a warm towel. Of course, I was sitting much farther back in coach, but on the bright side, I was going to Paris! Nothing could’ve dampened my mood right now. Fiona’s mouth pursed when she saw me gawking, but she continued her conversation with Mr. Business Executive in seat 3B.
Ellie’s advice to take Tylenol PM at boarding was sound. I was asleep before lift-off and only woke when we were an hour from landing. Leaving my seat, I freshened up in the tiny airplane lavatory, attempting to fluff my flat, greasy hair and dotting concealer under my tired eyes. But there was no helping the lack of color in my cheeks or the rumpled clothing. I knew I’d have a busy day ahead of me once we landed. Fiona was long gone when I finally made it off the plane. After passing easily through customs, I powered on my phone and waited at the baggage claim. Although I’d arranged for an upgrade to an international plan, I was still surprised when my cell showed a text from Fiona.
She’d left.
Well wasn’t that just craptastic? I had no idea what her bags looked like, so I was forced to wait until everyone from our flight had taken theirs and then read the little tags on the dozen or so bags left unclaimed.
She had a whole fleet of luggage. Louis Vuitton, of course. It was a wonder she trusted me with it. After wrestling her bags and mine out to the curb and tracking down a shuttle, nearly two hours had passed before I made it to the hotel: an upscale, boutique affair in Saint Germain in the lovely 6th arrondissement.
Stepping from the cab, the mouthwatering smell of coffee and croissants hit my nose. People sat clustered in outdoor cafes under umbrella tables, sipping espresso and eating pastries. Water flowed down the gutters as the streets were flushed clean, and elderly people fed the pigeons. The golden glow of the sun hitting the old, stone buildings and the brilliant bright blue sky seemed to transform the city streets into something magical. Romantic, cultured, and pretty.
A place where anything could happen.
The hotel lobby was quaint and simply appointed with a large oak desk, buffed marble floors, and colorful tapestries hanging on the walls. After a quick check-in, I stepped into the antique elevator, praying it would support the weight of all the luggage.
My room was as tiny as I had expected. Though the hotel was quite upscale, my room held little more than a bed dressed in fluffy white linens. There was a wardrobe pushed into the corner and a TV mounted on the wall. Gauzy cream curtains framed the tall, narrow windows, lending the efficient room a pretty and enchanting vibe. It would be my home away from home.
Anticipating Fiona’s many demands, I planned to meet with the front-desk staff to understand the Paris subway map. Best to be preemptive, since I knew I’d likely be running around the city fetching whatever Fiona needed at a moment’s notice, and my learning curve was likely to be steep, having never set foot outside the U.S. Plus, my French was limited to
After wrestling them in and out of the tiny elevator, I was sweaty and more than a little grumpy as I stood at the door to Fiona’s top-floor suite. The door was left cracked open, and I gave a quick but firm knock before pushing it open.
No one answered, but I could hear muted voices in the adjoining room.
Entering the living room with plush sofas and a TV, I dragged the suitcases in after me. Voices leaked from the bedroom. Fiona was with a man. And apparently they were in a heated discussion.
I could leave the bags and sneak away unnoticed. I wasn’t in the mood to face a grumpy Fiona. My agenda included a hot shower and a nap.
After stacking her bags in the corner, I froze. I recognized the man’s voice. Deep and rich with a confident tone.
My body responded instantly, my nipples hardening against my bra and my pulse jumping erratically. My body’s responses to him were anything but normal.
Unable to resist getting a look at him, I tiptoed closer to the doorway, and peeked inside the room.
“What’s this about, Fiona? You’re mad that I saw Madeline last night? Is that what this tantrum is?”
“I’m not going to pretend I like it. But, love, you know I can never stay mad at you.”
“I haven’t seen Maddie in years, you know that, and we’re shooting together tomorrow. I wanted to say hi. We hit one club, got a drink, and reminisced. It was no big deal,” Ben said, his voice indifferent.
“Those gossip rags follow her around and I just don’t want your image linked to hers.” Fiona’s voice was a soft whine, vaguely reminiscent of a lap dog in heat.
“Chill. It was low key, Fiona. I was back here, in bed alone, by eleven. I couldn’t sleep worth shit, but I was here.”
“Okay.” Fiona sighed. “If you say it wasn’t a big deal, it wasn’t. End of story.”
It sounded like Fiona was jealous that he’d hung out with a woman, and I knew she had issues with estrogen, but that couldn’t be it, could it? Surely Ben was allowed to hang out with whomever he wanted. I couldn’t resist peeking farther around the corner.
They stood in the center of her bedroom in front of the bed. Fiona had changed and was smartly dressed in a fitted black lace top and cream skirt. In contrast, I was frazzled, greasy, and still dressed in yesterday’s wrinkled
