“Kate, Marie’s partner, is my best friend, actually. The entire reason I’m here in Paris. She and I went to college together. She in the culinary school and me in hotel management. I wouldn’t have missed this,” I explain. And then feeling the bubbly and feeling a little bold, I add, “And I’m glad I didn’t miss you before I left.”
“Well that makes two of us,” he says. And well, I just about melt. This is going down.
Bottomless glasses of champagne, basking in the glow of a friend’s success, and the attention of a very hot, very flirty, very available man make an exceptional night. The added ambiance of Kate’s restaurant and the rainy Paris street outside add to the fantasy I’m living out tonight. At some point in the evening, Chris moved into my booth, and we are seated just inches apart. I can smell his cologne and feel the warmth coming off his body. We’ve kept it light, talking about what I’ve been up to in Paris, places we’ve both visited back in New York, the usual small talk. But everything has the hint of flirtation, a strong chemistry just below the surface.
It’s getting late and the waiters have started cleaning up. Kate and Marie-Lore are saying goodbye to guests at the door, and the evening definitely feels like it’s winding down. But I’m not winding down, if anything, I’m revved up, and I’m not ready to say goodnight to Chris. Not just yet.
The past year has been an avalanche of stress and disappointment. This trip to Paris is supposed to start a new chapter for me, the turning point in my life before I head back to New York and put my nose to the grindstone. I deserve to have the best time I can possibly have, and it’s clear to me that Chris could make this night even better. I’ve never been in the habit of one-night-stands, but I know a good thing when it’s in front of me. It’s been a while since I’ve been fucked, and well, if I can sleep with Chris, for just one night, it could hold me over for a long while. I’m going to do it. For myself.
“Well that was a massive success,” Chris says standing up to hug Marie-Lore. I look around and we’re the last guests at L’Arc-en-Ciel. Kate slides into the seat across from me, kicking off her shoes and laughing.
“It was amazing, but I am so glad it’s over,” she says. “Weaver, can I give you a ride back to your place? We should probably all get home. I’m going to pick you up really early so we can hit the road in the morning.”
“I’m not too far from here. You go, I can find my way on my own. And anyway, who knows when I’ll be in Paris again. I want to soak it in.”
“No. Chris, you’ll walk Weaver back, won’t you?” Marie-Lore interrupts. “She’s just off Place des Vosges, you know where that is, non?”
“Happy to,” he agrees. He reaches out his hand to me and I take it, standing and turning to Kate for a quick kiss before I’m out the door with Chris.
The rain has stopped but there is a chill in the air. I rub my hands briskly up and down my arms. Without hesitation, Chris takes off his suit jacket and places it over my shoulders.
“How chivalrous,” I say, “but I think you have things backwards. It was me who owed you that favor. Did you forget?”
We are walking shoulder to shoulder, and I keep my eyes forward, not feeling completely comfortable in my boldness. I’m pretty sure we’re on the same page, but part of me can’t be certain that this insanely attractive man is into me.
I follow Chris as he turns a corner, leading us down an alley. He stops walking and turns to me. He hooks a finger under my chin, lifting my face toward his. “I promise you, Weaver, that favor is the only thing I’ve been thinking about all night,” he says. “And when we get to your place, it’s not twenty euro I’m expecting.”
My lips part at his words, and all of a sudden, I’m finding it hard to stand. It’s completely magical, and I can’t believe my luck that I fell down the stairs at the perfect moment to lead to this.
“Qu’est ce qu’on a ici?”
Chris and I look around, trying to find the voice coming from the shadows. Stepping out from behind a dumpster is a young guy, and in his hand I see a knife, the moonlight glinting on its edge. Chris moves me behind his body, shielding me.
“Fuck off, man, and leave us alone,” he says. “You really don’t want to fuck with me.”
“Money. Give me your money. And montre, your watch,” the kid says, though his confidence seems to have been shaken.