Page 17 of My French Love Affair

The moment I step into the hotel lobby, I know I’m in a different world.

Everything is marble, the chandeliers look like they were personally commissioned by a nineteenth-century royal, and the air smells likemoney- probably because it’s filtered through a ventilation system that only lets in the scent ofsuccess.

Before I can really process the sheer ridiculousness of it all, I hear a shriek.

Scratch that - it’s more of a full-blownscream.

"Poppy!"

I barely have time to brace myself before I’m tackled by three very excited young women.

Emma, Jas, and Leah practically launch themselves at me in the middle of the lobby, wrapping me in a giggling, perfume-scented hug.

"You’rehere!" Emma beams, shaking me by the shoulders like she’s making sure I’m real.

"Finally!" Leah adds. "I swear, this took way more convincing than it should have."

Jas smirks. "But we got you here in the end. And now, you’re officially free from the clutches of romance’s most unhinged ambassador."

I snort. "What can I say - knowing Noah, he’ll be composing a tragic breakup ballad as we speak."

Emma steps back, giving me a slow once-over.

"At least you look hot for someone who just broke up with a man who genuinely thought singing in public was a romantic gesture."

"Yeah - turns out heartbreak and exhaustionreallybring out my cheekbones," I deadpan.

They howl with laughter, and for the first time in days - no,weeks- I feel light.

* * *

Upstairs, the suite isexactlywhat I expected given that it wasbooked by Emma’s father.

Outrageous.

The balcony overlooks the marina, where superyachts are lined up like it’s the most normal, natural thing in the world. The water is a criminally gorgeous shade of blue, and the buildings have that perfect old-world charm, all white stone and pale pink facades.

"This isinsane," I mutter, stepping out onto the balcony.

Leah flops onto one of the beds, sighing dramatically.

"I know. I feel like I should start a new life here. Maybe seduce a billionaire. Become someone’s mysterious second wife."

I arch a brow. "Second?"

She shrugs. "First wives have to deal with the prenup."

Emma cackles and throws herself onto the other bed.

"Okay, before we let Poppy fully descend into her independent-woman fashionista era, we need to discuss the itinerary."

Her eyes practically glint with mischief as she points a perfectly manicured nail in my direction.

She pauses for dramatic effect as she locks eyes with me in mock-seriousness.

"And remember: this is a dictatorship, Poppy. Not a democracy. Youwillcomply."

Jas nods solemnly as she moves to sit down besides Leah.

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