Page 60 of It Happened In Paris

“I want to be like Daddy. I can’t wait to be a Buchanan. I feel like a princess,” Paris exclaimed.

“Not quite. But you are my daughter. Close enough,” I winked and gathered her for a quick hug, swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn’t wait for the day to erase Adrien’s name from her life and replace it with mine.

“Mr. Buchanan and guests, please buckle up for takeoff,” the captain addressed us over the speaker.

“Okay, let’s get buckled in.” I leaned over to help Paris with hers, double-checking that she was secure.

Vivian sank into the seat across from us, a smile lighting up her entire face. And her eyes—God, those blues—met mine. They were soft, hopeful, no longer shadowed by exhaustion or worry. The hospital felt like another lifetime. All that stress, all that fear—it was finally behind us.

I reached for the hand of this woman who had invaded my heart and soul, who had made me feel more alive than I had since I took my first million-dollar risk long ago. I could sense my old workaholic life fading away, replaced by the new life I’d always dreamed of.

By the time we soared into the sky, Paris buzzed with excitement. Her face pressed against the window, and a pair of tiny headphones looped over her head.

“I’m flying to the city I’m named after,” she repeated, as if talking to the plane might make it believe her.

“Yes, you are. Think the city is ready for you?” I grinned.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe. I even brought my glitter pens. I can draw a picture for it.” Soon, she was sketching an airplane in a sky filled with sunshine. Below it were many tiny houses and a tall structure that, in her imagination, probably came alive as the tower.

In the back row, the tutor and the nanny sat at the ready for us whenever we needed them. Yet the cabin felt like it belonged only to me, Vivian, and the child who carried both of our hearts.

The flight was smooth,and before dawn, we arrived at our destination. A car whisked us away to the George V, where I carried a drowsy Paris into our suite. Gently, I set her in the center of our bed while Vivian and I settled on each side, exchanging quiet whispers.

“This isn’t quite like our first night together,” Vivian teased, glancing at the sleeping little girl between us. “But I’m so grateful we’re here. Thank you for this trip. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said the words I could never get enough of. I reached an arm over both of them, resting on her waist. They were everything I wanted, right here with me.

A few hours later, as soon as Paris stirred, we all woke, eager for the day ahead. In our robes, we sat out on our private terrace enjoying cappuccinos, croissants, and fruit—a delightful breakfast delivered by room service. Yet, what enchanted Paris most were the panoramic views of the city; she barely sat, continuously standing by the rail, and gazing out.

“I think the Eiffel Tower is calling my name,” she declared, starting our day out with laughter and joy.

“Well then, we better get you there,” I said. We dedicated today to us and sightseeing, while tomorrow we’d deal with Adrien.

Our suite at the George V was every bit the luxury I was accustomed to—grand crystal chandeliers, gilded accents, and long drapes that swept the marble floor. But watching Paris twirl barefoot in her sundress, croissant in hand, transformed opulence into pure magic.

Vivian finally emerged from the bathroom wearing soft cashmere and tailored pants with sensible walking shoes, her hair loosely braided in an effortless, radiant style. I longed to kiss her then and there.

However, Paris was already bouncing with energy. “Can we go? Please? The sun is shining and I want to see the tower.”

I reached for my coat, and we set off.

We rodethe elevator to the very top of the tower. Paris held my hand tightly, her small body vibrating with wonder as the entire city spread out beneath us. On the other side, Vivian clung to my arm, shivering.

“I’ve never been to the top before. I always chickened out at the last minute,” she admitted.

“Not today. Hold on as tight as you need because I’m treating you two to the full Parisian first class experience.” I kissed her temple.

Once there, Paris peered around in awe. “It’s like I can see the entire world! Can I see New York from here?”

I chuckled and knelt beside her. “Almost. See that way… to the North? That would be London out there somewhere. And over here…” I picked her up and carried her over to the sign statingSudfor South before pointing roughly southeast. “In that direction would be Egypt.”

She gasped. “I can see pyramids from here?”

“They’re still too far away, but it’s in that general direction.” I laughed, then carried her to face west, explaining that New York was that way. Though she didn’t entirely understand, her nod was all that mattered.

After the tutor and nanny took over entertaining Paris, I noticed my lovely Vivian gazing out over the city. I wrapped my arms around her from behind.

“I’ve mostly been a student, then a mother, never really a tourist here,” she murmured. “The view is spectacular.”

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