Page 34 of Host for the Holidays
And the realization that this is what I’ve been missing, sitting in the apartment, waiting for him to take me around—or sitting next to him while he snores softly on the couch—makes me feel a flash of resentment. It’s not entirely his fault, of course. It was my choice to walk back home instead of going on the metro today, but that’s the thing. I didn’t think I’dbetouring Paris on my own.
But being here at the Louvre makes me determined not to waste another second. I don’t want to go home with regrets. I want to experience everything that makes Paris, Paris.
I take in a deep breath. “How long would it take on the metro?”My experience there yesterday was pure chaos, but like Rémy said, I can’t do Paris without the metro.
He looks at me for a second. “About half the time.”
It’s not a big deal if Josh has to sit outside the apartment waiting for us for a few minutes while we walk home—it’s not like I haven’t waited for him longer than that on a regular basis—but it’s not just about Josh. I’ve got to get over my fear of the metro if I’m going to see this city, and better to do it now while I’ve got Rémy to guide me through it than trying by myself tomorrow.
“Let’s take the metro.”
He holds my gaze for a second, then smiles and nods. “This way.”
We head back the way we came, but this time, I’m walking forward, and Rémy’s hands aren’t on my shoulders, which makes it a lot quicker but also a lot less fun. When we get to the arched passage, there’s a couple in the middle of the exit, liplocked while one holds a cell phone out to capture their makeout session with the Louvre pyramid behind.
“Americans,” Rémy says.
“Hey. How do you know they’re Americans? The French are the ones known for being romantics.”
The girl lowers the phone. “Let’s check it out,” she says to her boyfriend in a distinct American accent.
Rémy looks at me and smiles. “Weareromantics. But we have a different definition of romance.”
“That definition being . . . ?”
He shrugs. “What’s between a man and a woman. Being in the moment together and forgetting everyone around you. Andthat”—he jerks his head back toward the couple—“is the opposite of romance.”
I look back at them. They’re going for round two, with the phone at a different angle this time. I can’t help but agree with Rémy. There’s not much I find romantic about choreographing camera angles to make sure your makeout video gets the most likes on social media.
I almost want to ask Rémy what he considers a romantic date in Paris and whether he’s ever brought his girlfriend here. I still don’t know if he has a girlfriend or not—he didn’t really answer when I gave him the chance at IKEA—so I’m just going to assume he does because 1) how could he not? and 2) it’s better that way.
We cross the street and reach the green, quirky sign that saysMétropolitain. I stare at it for a second, then take in a deep breath.
“You sure?” Rémy asks.
I nod. If I’m going into the Paris metro with anybody, Rémy is the right person.
It’s Friday night, and it’s every bit as busy as it was when I made my failed attempt this morning. As we make our way down the stairs, people file down all around us, jostling me and making my chest feel tight.
I stop at the bottom, letting a group of tourists speaking a foreign language brush past. Rémy stands in front of me, facing me, like my own personal buffer.
“Sorry.” I chuckle nervously. “Small spaces and heights.” I feel dumb for making it a big deal—I know some people have legitimate and much bigger fears for better reasons, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s not an experience I take pleasure in. I try for a smile. “I’m working on it. Last night, I only hadonenightmare about falling off the bunkbed.”
Rémy does not look amused. “Madi, you don’t have to sleep on that bed. I didn’t realize it was so uncomfortable for you.”
I cock a brow at him, determined to keep this light.
“Okay, yes,” he says, “it looks really uncomfortable, but I didn’t realize it was keeping you from sleeping. Does Josh not know you’re afraid of heights?”
“He does. He just . . . thinks I need a little push to conquer my fears. He’s always challenging himself to do more and be more in life and at work. It’s how he’s risen in the ranks so quickly.”
Rémy frowns. It makes him look like the brooding hero of a movie I’d love to watch. “We don’t have to do this, Madi. We can walk. We could even rent bikes.”
I’m momentarily distracted. “Bikes?”
“Yeah, they have a system here. It’s easy to use, and it’d be faster than walking.”
I take in a breath. “No, it’s okay. I wanna do this.”
