Tales From a Broad (13 page)

“Don’t mind the way I look. You’re rushing
me.” I smiled sweetly.

Tess looked at me with a critical eye.
“Here,” she said, unclipping two silk flower pins from her
backpack. “Put these on. Pick a shoulder. Just in case you run into
someone you know.”

“Okay, Donatella. Especially, since I know
so many people in Paris.”

Tess gave me an amused look and led me out
the door. I pinned the flowers on the strap of my left shoulder as
I followed her to the elevator. Once inside, I caught a glimpse of
myself in the mirror.

“Wow, you’re right,” I said with an
approving tone. “That tank was shot. Not anymore. Maybe greige will
be the new black.” I adjusted my bra straps and rolled my shoulders
back. “You know, Tess, you have a real eye for fashion.”

“Well, you better have a real eye to spy,”
Tess hissed as the elevator stopped in the lobby. She gave me a
quick peck on the cheek and jumped back to the other side of the
elevator.

The doors opened to the lobby. Tess went on
her merry way and I followed behind, keeping a safe distance
between us. I watched her greet a tall guy who must have been
Pierre with a demure French double cheek kiss.

He wore tan linen pants, a thin white
sweater, and some sort of European looking sandal. I had never been
a big fan of a guy who wore sandals, but on this guy, it worked.
Tess had been accurate with her assessment. With a combination of
sandy blond hair, high cheekbones, and full lips, he was absolutely
gorgeous. On a scale of one to ten, he was a definite ten. And as a
couple, they were well off the charts.

Pierre may have gotten a check in the box
from me for good looks, but that hadn’t been one of my concerns. I
smiled to myself when he handed her a rose. Check. I was more than
relieved to witness a sign of chivalry. Then, he helped her put on
her sweater. Double check. After Pierre extended his arm to Tess,
escort-style, I knew I’d seen enough.

Tess casually looked over her shoulder at me
with one eyebrow raised. I gave her two thumbs up, and she blew me
a kiss in return. As I watched them disappear through the revolving
doors, I felt like a mom who had just sent her daughter off to
college. I wrote the checks, was all alone, and didn’t know what to
do with myself.

I moseyed over to the centerpiece of the
lobby, a circular table with a spectacular floral arrangement.
There were about a dozen three-foot hurricane vases that housed
submerged cherry blossom branches and white tulips. I took a deep
inhale through my nose and detected a faint, but pleasant,
aroma.

“Excuse me?” I heard a voice say.

I turned my head to see a woman standing
beside me with a camera in her hand.

“Can you please take a picture of my
family,” she asked. Behind her stood a man and two teenage
girls.

“Oh sure,” I said. She handed me the camera,
and I stepped back, waiting for the foursome to position themselves
in front of the table. She sandwiched herself between her two
daughters and they all stood close with arms wrapped around one
another. Her husband was at one end and she was on the other, yet
his hand still managed to reach across and cup her shoulder.

“Ready?” I looked into the camera and
centered the photo against the floral backdrop. “Say
fromage!
”

“Fromage
!” they cried in unison,
laughing.

I handed back the woman’s camera. The family
bid me a good night and as they walked off arm-in-arm. I wished
they would adopt me for the night, or at least take me wherever it
was they were going.

I’d been content to hang in for the night,
but now that I was in the hustle and bustle of the lobby, solitude
was no longer looking so good. I meandered into the gift shop and
picked up a newspaper. We’d been gone for almost a week, and I had
no clue what was happening in the world. CNN hadn’t been a part of
our daily activities.

I flipped through the newspaper, but was
distracted by the activity happening outside the window on the
street. It was a lovely night, and the streets were packed. Happy
faces filled the tables of a neighboring outdoor café. Families,
couples, and friends strolled by, all looking as if they were on
their way to do something spectacular.

The grass was really starting to look much
greener on the other side of the window. I reminded myself how
happy I had been to be in my robe ten minutes earlier and that
leisure once again awaited me upstairs. Somewhat reluctantly, I put
down the paper and walked to the elevators trying to recapture my
indulgent relaxed mood.

But back in the room, my earlier feeling of
contentment had dissipated. I picked up my phone and scrolled
around to read the posts of my Facebook friends. Were their status
updates as misleading as the one I had just written?

Eiffel Tower and a bottle of wine.

It sounded like I was living the life on the
top of the tower. Little did they know the “Eiffel Tower” was
really the name of the purse Carrie Bradshaw carried in the
Sex
and the City
movie playing on the TV. As for the bottle of
wine, Charlize had sent me away with the vineyard’s finest, and I
was debating whether I should open it or wait for Tess to return.
There was something pathetic about drinking alone in a hotel room.
Especially when the room happened to be in one of the most romantic
cities in the world.

A knock on the door shook me out of my
thoughts. “Hello?” I called out.

“Room service,” said a voice on the other
side.

“I didn’t order anything,” I shouted. My
ankle was throbbing again after my trip to the lobby, and I didn’t
feel like hobbling over to answer the door, just to smell food I
wish I’d ordered.

“Room service. Can you please open the
door?” The voice had an Indian accent with an impatient tone.

I forced myself to get up and limped over to
the door. I peered through the peephole and much to my surprise, I
saw Simon standing there.

I flung the door open and laughed. “I
should’ve known it was you.”

“Why?” Simon looked so innocent, despite the
mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“I think it’s safe to say that not one
employee of this hotel sounds like they’re from Bollywood.”

“Indian?” he cried. “You mean I didn’t sound
like Gerard Depardieu?”

“Hmph. Not so much.” I smiled and gave Simon
the once over. He wore dark jeans and a buttoned-down shirt, and he
smelled like sandalwood and citrus as he stood before me.

“What are you up to?” With an eyebrow
raised, I looked down and noticed he held a rather large shopping
bag. A box of candy slipped from under his arm, and I reached out
to catch it in midair.

“Nice save. May I?” Simon peered over my
shoulder into the room.

“Oh, of course.” I stepped aside to let him
enter.

I watched him cross the room to set the bag
down on the bed. I placed the candy box beside it. My mouth watered
when I saw it was French nougat, my favorite after dinner treat
from a bistro near my apartment. “What happened to your evening
bike ride?”

He cocked his head and gave me an odd look.
“How did you...” A flicker of recognition registered on his face.
“Ah. I had a feeling you read my notes in the guidebook.” A slow
smile spread across his face.

I cleared my throat. “I, um, the book fell
open to that one page, but that’s all I saw.”

Simon smiled and nodded slowly. “Well... I
decided to pass. Today’s manual labor totally wiped me out.”

“Oh, I hear you.” I tucked my hair behind my
ears. The front and sides were still intact from this morning’s
blowout, but the back was pure frizz from the powernap I had taken
in the tub.

As I touched the straight portion of my
hair, I realized I was wearing ratty clothes and no makeup. I
wished I had at least left Tess’s flowers pinned on to my tank.
“Will you please excuse me for a moment? I’m going to use the
bathroom.”

“Sure, take your time. I’ll just be
outside,” Simon said, pointing to the balcony.

I disappeared into the bathroom and closed
the door. I went over to the basin and gave myself a silent lecture
while my brain screamed, “Lucy, get it together!” Why did I care so
much? He was far too young for me.

I flushed the toilet and ran the water,
using the sounds to disguise my freshening up process. I’d rather
be dead than have him think I was primping for him. By the time I
emerged, I found him leaning over the balcony railing.

I approached him from behind, noting once
again, with a little embarrassment, just how nice the back view
was. “Please don’t tell me you came here to kill yourself.”

“Well, that depends.” Simon turned around to
face me, and I quickly looked up with a start. “Mark told me Tess
had a date, so I thought you might like some company. Was I
right?”

I didn’t answer right away, struck by the
sight of him. Standing on the balcony with the sun setting behind
him, he definitely looked like a Mr. Right. Well, a younger
version, anyway.

“What did you have in mind?” I raised an
eyebrow.

“Why don’t you let me show you?” He took a
step back into the room. My heart stopped as he walked towards the
bed. He didn’t mean...? Really?

My heart started to race again. Should I?
How would that feel? How could I even be thinking this? Just as I
was about to say something, Simon reached into the bag and pulled
out a bottle of wine and two glasses.

The clinking of glasses brought me back to
reality. Of course, that wasn’t what he intended.
Get a grip,
Lucy
. One day with Mother Nature, and I was losing it. The guy
was just being nice. He probably has his pick of women back home.
And they’re probably twentysomethings. He doesn’t like me. He’s
probably just bored. What else would he have done tonight without
Mark? Some people just don’t like to be alone.

“Well, if you
do
want company, I
brought these. The wine happens to be the fruit of our beloved
vineyard. And if you’re not in the mood for company, at the very
least you can use and abuse me.” Simon winked as he pulled out a
roll of medical tape. Ah, that kind of using and abusing. The
medical kind.

“I can wrap your foot again and then you can
throw the other glass at me. I even brought Moor mud for you to
drown me in.” Simon held up a jar, and I noticed he had nicely
groomed and squared off fingernails. My own cuticles hadn’t been
pushed back since we left New York.

I clasped my hands behind my back. “What the
heck is Moor mud?”

“It makes a good foot bath. So I’ve
heard.”

I let out a slow whistle. “How do you like
that? A guy that knows more than me about foot spas.” I nodded with
approval and forced the corners of my lips to go up, even though
they were fighting their way down. Was he gay? More high
maintenance than I was? A Cooper dressed in casual clothing? I dug
my nails into the palms of my hands. Why did I even care?

“Let’s not get carried away,” he said with a
hand raised. “We use it for bee stings at the camp.”

A giggle escaped me. He probably wasn’t gay
or high maintenance. However, while I felt momentarily lifted, the
mention of his job as a camp counselor reminded me just how young
he was.

He reached his hand back into the bag,
oblivious to my reaction. “For snacks, I wasn’t sure if you were
salty or sour, having seen a little of both out of you. So, I chose
vinegar chips and chocolate covered pretzels.” Simon placed the
snacks on the bed. “But, I have a feeling you’re mostly sweet. Am I
right?”

He waved the box of candy he had dropped. I
cocked my head to the side and smiled demurely.

“And in the event you wanted to see some of
Paris, I brought you...” Simon reached into the bag and
dramatically unfolded a large stick, “Voila! A cane.”

“Wow, I’m impressed. You’ve really thought
of everything,” I laughed uneasily.

“So, what do you think?” He tilted his head
and smiled.

“I can’t believe you did all of this for
me.” I held a hand to my chest. “You just might be the nicest guy
I’ve ever met. Thank you for this ... all of this.” I waved my hand
over the items.

“My pleasure. Now, what do you think of my
proposals?” He raised his eyebrows and cracked his knuckles. He
certainly put in a lot of work for a little company.

“Well, funny thing ... I found a book
yesterday, right here on this balcony in fact. In that book, I may
have read a handwritten note, which said that seeing a sunset in
Paris is a must-do.”

“Really.” Simon stood up a little
straighter. “Whoever wrote that sounds like a very smart guy.”

“That’s what I’m thinking.” I paused and
tapped my finger to my lips. “Should we take his word for it? Maybe
crack open the wine and enjoy it on that very same balcony where I
found the book?”

“Works for me.” Simon exhaled loudly.

We looked at one another and smiled. I
gathered the bottle and glasses, grabbed a corkscrew from the
table, and led Simon back out to the balcony.

“This really is some view,” he said. He took
the bottle from my hand. I felt the warmth of his skin as his hand
brushed against mine.

I winced at the memory that the view could
have been his every day. “I really am glad you’re here to enjoy it.
Thanks for coming.” I handed Simon the corkscrew.

“I had a really nice day with you, Lucy. I
was actually starting to miss you a little bit.”

Simon busied himself with the wine bottle,
and I tried to hide the silly grin that popped on my face. There
was something about this guy that made me feel pretty damn special.
He was very charming and no doubt, had his pick of women back
home.

I chewed my bottom lip and watched him pour
the wine with the grace of a professional. He swirled it around,
stuck his nose inside the glass, and took a dramatic inhale. I
suddenly felt giddy and burst into laughter.