Page 5 of Blue Eyes & Paris Vibes

But holy hell, if looks could kill, I’d drop to the floor like a particularly skilled stuntman in a Tom Cruise movie. André, meanwhile, clears his throat, probably to help him not laugh out loud either.

“An upgrade? Why wasn’t that offered to me?”

“Because you wouldn’t let our employee talk,” André says dryly, his customer service smile suddenly appearing a lot more genuine than before.

The asshat jumps into a mumbly tirade, feeling all kinds of wronged, his face turning redder with each mumbled curse. Who they are directed to? I have no idea.

Julia cannot contain her grin, so she faces the computer, away from the scene playing out. But you know what? I’ve waited for karma to strike ever since he ran me over. I’m going to enjoy the show now.

So, I turn and blatantly stare at the two of them, a wide smile on my face and arms crossed in front of my chest. This is hilarious.

“What the fuck’s so funny?” he snarls at me, and I cannot contain the hearty laughter that’s bubbling out of me.

“It’s okay, buddy, do you need to get your feelings out? I’m sure you’ll feel better after a good tantrum.” I grin, taking a step closer just to watch his eye twitch. “Want to stomp your foot too? Maybe throw a little customer service hotline on speaker?”

“Why the fuck are you calling me ‘buddy?’”

“Because you’re behaving like my friends two-year-old son and that’s what I call him.” I shrug and tilt my head. “Difference is, he usually gets a nap and a juice box when he’s done screaming.”

His mouth opens, probably to yell again, but I raise an eyebrow like I’m the one waiting forhimto calm down.

“But hey, if you need help managing your big emotions, I’m sure André can round up some crayons for you.”

“Listen, what’s it to you? Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Hey, you’re the one who dragged me into this.” I shake my head with a disapproving frown. “I got the upgrade because I’m nice. But you? You run people over at train stations and can’t even manage to apologize and now you’re terrorizing staff for something that’s out of their hands.”

My smile is all sugar, but my glare gives his a run for its money. “So, since poor Julia and André can’t tell you what they’re really thinking, I am more than happy to take on that responsibility, jackass. Learn some damn manners.”

That seems to stun him into silence so I turn back to Julia as she hands over my room key along with some pamphlets on Parisian sights and what kind of activities they can help me book here at the reception. I find my wallet and make a generous donation to their tip jar, feeling the guy’s glare burning in the side of my head.

“Here you go, thanks for making my day,” I say, loud enough for him to hear every word. “Good luck with him,” I add in a mock whisper to André as I take off.

Passing Mr. Rude, I hold up my keycard and give him the brightest, sweetest smile I can muster up.

“And thank you for this, asshat.” I laugh heartily and make my way to the elevators, hoping I look as badass as I feel. And when the elevator doors close, I can still see his angry face as he stares after me, eyebrows scrunched and eyes narrowed, so I give him another sweet wave with my fingers.

God, I love karma.

The suite is way too big for one person, but hey, I’m not complaining. Maybe they should have given it to Mr. Rude, after all, he could have shared it with his ego, but just the image in my mind of him sharing a way smaller room with it brings a smile to my lips.

I can’t help but chuckle as I stretch out my arms and whirl around the room because there really is that much space.

A king-sized bed fills out the center of the room, or at least what I think is the center of the room from where I’m standing. When I walk closer, I realize there is way more room than I could see from the entrance.

The first thing that catches my eye is the bathroom. It’s spacious and I have a showeranda bathtub. Sweet! I know what I’ll be doing tonight!

Around the corner, there is a couch with a small table and an armchair tucked in one corner, facing the window with a spectacular view of the fancy neighborhood buildings.

I walk further in to discover another sitting corner with a table and two chairs, hidden behind a partial wall.

Right where you would look when laying in bed, a TV that seems wider than I am tall is mounted to the wall, the others decorated with tasteful images of flowers—in vases, in fields, a print of a Monet painting. This room just screams ‘fancy’.

But the best thing about this room? The balcony.

That’s what I’ve been the most excited about since André mentioned I’d have one.

I walk out there and gasp, then break into the biggest smile. The view is magnificent. I can see the Eiffel Tower perfectly through a gap between the buildings where a street cuts through.

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