Page 22 of Host for the Holidays
Madi checks her phone as I unlock the door leading off of the street. “Wow, it’s late.”
“Yeah, who knew hour-long showers ate up so much of the day?”
“Thirty-minute shower. And at least we Americans shower atall.” She looks at me with horror. “Oh my gosh, that was so rude! You smell perfectly amazing, Rémy.”
I laugh, wondering if she reallyhassmelled me or is just trying to make up for the insult. “I know our reputation. And to be fair, some of it is deserved. You’ll see that if you ever go on the metro during the summer.”
She shows me a mouth full of clenched teeth. “I think I’ll steer clear.”
“You can’t come to Paris and not go on the metro, Madi.”
She shudders a little. “I’m not big on small spaces with a lot of people. And definitely not if we’re adding body odor into the mix.”
“Then prepare to walk a lot or pay for taxis.”
She wrinkles her nose, and I turn the key in the doorknob.
“Elevator?” I ask, trying to keep a straight face.
“Uh-uh,” she says, walking straight past it to the stairs.
“The metro isn’t so bad if you know when to avoid it.”
“Which I don’t.”
“That’s why you have me.”
She glances over at me and smiles. “True.”
When we get to the apartment door, I unlock it and push it open.
“Geez,” she says as I wait for her to go in. “You make it look so easy. Were you a medieval dungeon keeper in a past life?” A buzzing has her pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Oh, shoot! I totally forgot.” She swipes and holds the phone in front of her face. “Siena! I’m so sorry. I completely spaced it until I saw you calling.”
“Even after I sent you a calendar appointment?” Siena clucks her tongue. “I’m disappointed in you, my littlecroissant.” For someone clearly exaggerating that last word, she actually did a decent job.
Other voices jump in.
“Hi, Madi!”
“Hey, Mads!”
“How’s our favorite Parisian doing?”
“Oh gosh.” Madi shoots a glance at me as I make my way toward my room to give her some privacy. “Don’t let Rémy hear you call me that. I’m the furthest possible thing from Parisian, as he can tell you.”
“Rémy?” one of them asks. “Who’s Rémy? Oh, is that him in the background there? Hi, Rémy!”
“Hi, Rémy!”
“Bonjour, Rémy!”
I turn back toward Madi. She’s looking at me with an apology written on her face. “Do you mind saying hi to the Sheppards real quick? They’re like my family.”
“There’s nolikeabout it!” The voice of the woman speaking makes me think she’s probably the mom of the bunch. “We claim Madi as one of us.”
Madi looks at me, full of hesitation.
“Of course,” I say, coming over next to her.
