Page 3 of Rosé with My Fake Fiancé
“Please, tell me. Why not take the tour with me?”
“I’ve been to Paris a lot. Everything we were going to do today, I’ve already done, and I’m fine on my own.” Those words echo in my head.I’m fine on my own.
Luc leans toward me, ducking down to tilt his head toward mine. It’s intimate. His eyes sparkle and there’s a flicker of attraction in my stomach. It surprises me, mostly because Luc is obviously too young for me, but also because it’s been five months since I broke up with my ex, and this is the first sign of interest in anyone.
Okay, maybe Jade wasn’t completely out of line with her suggestion.
That doesn’t mean I’m going to hook up tonight, but if someone comes along who’s attractive and interested andof an appropriate age...
I’ll think about it.
Luc pulls my attention back to him and says, “Are you saying you think my tour might beboring?”
“No!” I say too quickly. He laughs. I may have been thinking it, but I would never say it.
“Please,” he says, touching a hand to his chest. “I’m a very good tour guide, and there is nothing I love more than showing a beautiful woman around the city.”
Okay, being called beautiful twice by a cute man is working like a charm because I can feel myself melting. Luc is obviously a flirt—must be great for tips after the tour, I imagine—but what’s the harm in taking a tour I’ve already paid for?
When Jade and Sara had to cancel, I hung on to the idea of doing a guided tour with Emma, who had never been to Paris before. But she bailed on me this morning. Without her, I pictured myself roaming a city I knew and loved while having to listen to a way-too-chipper teenager over-enthusiastically take me to all the major tourist attractions that I tired of visiting after my first half-dozen trips to the city.
I didnotpicture a more mature, attractive man flirting with me.
“Now,” he says, and he’s still up close. His eyelashes are long and lighter, framing his eyes. I liked them already when he was flirty, but now that he’s serious, they are even more striking. “Can you really tell me you’ll have more fun without me?” He presses a palm to his chest like I’ve offended him. My friends’ words echo through my head—just try to have fun. When did I become so jaded that even a stranger could tell that I was no fun anymore? Luc continues. “Me? The best tour guide in Paris?”
I raise an eyebrow. “That’s a bold claim.”
He grins slyly. “Well, take the tour and find out.”
Despite myself, I chuckle. Who knows? Maybe this will be fun.
2
Luc
With my coffee in hand,I hold the door of the cafe open for Tessa and then follow her out onto the sidewalk. I take a right, and she falls into step beside me. It’s too warm out for a hot coffee, but I opted for one anyway, with an espresso shot, because I was up late last night bartending, and I know I’ll be on my feet most of the day. That is, if Tessa lets me show her around.
I was expecting four people for the tour and had a rough itinerary with a few suggestions they’d made for things they wanted to see. I had pictured a family or two couples, not a voluptuous woman in tight jeans, a perky, upturned nose, and no ring on her finger.
Looking at Tessa, I doubt I’m going to need the caffeine hit to stay alert. I like how well she’s taking my flirting; that blush on her pale cheeks is enchanting, and her hair glows golden in the sunlight.
While my jobs all pay well, my clients, whether at the bar, on tour, or in my rideshare, are mostly tourists, and a lot of them are Americans who tip. I don’t rely on tips since I’m paid a fair wage and have benefits like universal healthcare, but every little bit helps when it comes to supporting myself and my grandmother.
All that is to say that flirting on the job always helps. And I’d be flirting with Tessa, regardless. I appreciate her concern for my time, and the way she blushed when I called her beautiful makes my heart beat harder.
Tessa’s French is good but still Americanized. She’s kept up with our conversation so far, so I’ll stay in my native tongue too.
“Your friends,” I say as we walk toward our first stop, “are we angry at them for leaving you alone today?”
“Oh, no. Well, maybe a bit,” Tessa says. “Jade had a work thing come up last week. Sara’s daughter had a personal thing happen, so she’s helping with that. But Emma...” Tessa sighs. “Emma accidentally booked her flight for tomorrow instead of today and didn’t realize it until she got to the airport this morning. She’s got what we call—” Tessa switches to English, “—empty-nest brain,” and then back to French. “She juggled three kids, a husband, and a business. Her last kid just went off to university; her husband left her and took the company. Suddenly her life is different, and she says it’s like everything falls out of her brain now that she has fewer responsibilities.”
I make a noise of understanding. What I wouldn’t give to have fewer responsibilities. Three jobs and taking care of my grandmother means I’ve always had to hustle.
“Not that I blame her,” Tessa quickly adds. “It’s just frustrating. But they all fly in tomorrow instead, so we still get some time together.”
I put a hand on Tessa’s back and gently guide her around a corner. “When you wanted to cancel the tour today, what were you going to do instead?”
A shadow passes across her face, but she forces it back. “I was probably going to find a crepe cart and people-watch while gorging on Nutella, then visit the Musée de l'Orangerie—my favorite museum here—and finish the day with a nice, chilled rosé wine and more people-watching.”
