Midnight in Montmartre: A French Kiss Sweet Romance

by Chloe Emile

  The receptionist looked stern. She was talking on the phone, and when her eyes met Mia’s, her frown lines got deeper. Even the twisted curls of her blond hair looked hostile.

  "Bonjour," Mia said when the receptionist got off the phone. "Je m'appelle Mia—”

  Her stilted French was interrupted by rapid-fire French. The sharp words seemed to graze her like bullets.

  "You're speaking too fast for me," Mia said. "My French is not very good. Do you speak English?"

  Another mad gust of French followed. When Mia signaled that she didn't understand, the receptionist pointed to a door the way a general might point to a target.

  Mia obliged. Maybe she could find someone in there who spoke English. Why hadn’t she taken French at university instead of German? She had heard about the infamous French cold shoulder, but surely not everybody in the city would be this impatient.

  She opened the door to what looked like a waiting room. Two women, both brunettes, looking as serious as the receptionist, didn't seem pleased at her entrance. One of them gave her an unimpressed once-over.

  "Bonjour." Mia smiled brightly.

  The other woman looked down at Mia's boots and rolled her eyes in response.

  Mia looked down at them. There was nothing wrong with her boots. They were even designer. Discounted from Marshall's, sure, but designer nonetheless.

  Mia had no choice but to sit across from them. Their frostiness could have frozen water into ice in that room.

  Still, Mia believed that cold people were just itching to warm up. That was what her mother had always told her, and Mia always felt there was plenty of truth in that statement. The problem was, some people were colder than others.

  The women kept sneaking glances at her boots. One of them, the more slender of the two, with small black eyes and a pinched nose, even whispered a few French syllables to the other woman. Mia looked at her boots again. They had a sixties vibe with the chunky heels, and the toes were a bit scuffed, but they were comfortable.

  The French girls wore pearls, tasteful blazers, and pencil skirts, with stockings and three-inch heels. Did the people here wear uniforms, too? Mia wouldn't have been surprised.

  How long did she have to wait exactly? The receptionist hadn’t even known what Mia was here for before sending her in. She doubted the other women would want to help her translate, if they even spoke English. Mia decided to try anyway. What were humiliation and rejection when she had a sister to find?

  Mia cleared her throat to get their attention. "Excusez-moi. Parlez-vous—”

  "English!" It was the receptionist again. She barged in, pointed at Mia, then attempted to speak in English. "You. Go here. Please."

  "Oh." Mia didn't know what was happening but decided to obey and go into the other room. At least the receptionist had said please.

  "He speak English," the receptionist added.

  "Okay." Mia cheered up. Finally, someone who would understand her. She could get things sorted out in no time.

  The two women looked peeved that she was going ahead of them, but it wasn't as if it was her fault. Mia smiled and shrugged her shoulders at them, but they only responded with more of their icy glares.

  They hated her. But she couldn't take it personally. They didn't know her. If they did and they still hated her, Mia would find that to be a problem.

  She gave them a little wave before heading to the door the receptionist had pointed to.

  When Mia walked into the pristine office, she saw him sitting at the desk in an impeccably tailored navy suit.

  Luc Deneuve. The handsome stranger from last night.

  Chapter 4

  Luc nearly spat out his coffee when Mia appeared at the door. She was the last person in the world he expected to see at the office that morning. At first he thought he was imagining things. After all, he had thought about her all night and all morning, and he was sure that he'd been dreaming about her, too.

  He was an idiot for not getting her number. What had he been thinking? He also regretted not kissing her.

  Under the umbrella, she had looked at him so tenderly, with such a welcoming glint in her eyes and her smile—how could he have not kissed her? In that moment, Mia had been the only girl in the world to him.

  Until he remembered Beth. It was a confusing situation. How could he have gone from pining after Beth all evening to almost kissing a stranger at midnight?

  He had reasoned to himself that it wouldn't have been fair to kiss Mia. Beth might have been out of his league for now, but he didn't want to use someone else who did want him simply to repair his bruised ego.

  It hadn’t seemed appropriate to kiss Mia at the time, but he also didn't know then how much he was going to regret it until it was too late. There was something about Mia that was special. She was the kind of beautiful that you couldn't capture on camera—her glow, her warmth, her quick wit.

  Now she was before him, looking as confused as he was.

  "I think there must be some kind of mistake," she said.

  Luc frowned. He hoped not. He still didn't believe in fate, but luck was on his side.

  "Mia, right?" he asked, even though he knew exactly who she was. "Come on in."

  "I had no idea you worked here," Mia said quietly.

  She looked shyer than she had before. The girl he had encountered at midnight had been courageous, beating a mugger away before Luc could step in and help. That took guts. Gutsiness wasn't a trait he had considered admiring in a woman before. Shy Mia was also endearing. She looked flustered and vulnerable. He felt the urge to hug her.

  "I had no idea you were looking for a job," Luc said.

  "I'm not," she said, more sure of herself this time. "I think that's the mistake."

  Luc smiled and gestured to the chair facing his desk. "Please, sit down anyway. We'll straighten this out."

  She sat, her face illuminated by the light from the window. Her hair was wilder today, tiny dark-brown ringlets unconstrained by the laws of gravity. She wore no makeup as far as he could tell, and light freckles were splattered across her nose. Her lips were a natural rose-mauve, as plump and as kissable as he'd remembered. And her eyes, hazel green, were indescribably beautiful.

  The bright colors that she wore were refreshing. Her green shirt brought out the green in her eyes. Her choice in jewelry was certainly unique: pendants in the shape of white cats. All morning he'd sat in interviews with people wearing dreary blacks, grays, and blues until his mood slowly plummeted to match the shades. Just looking at Mia gave him a boost of energy.

  But he had to stop staring at her. He shuffled his papers and cleared his throat.

  "We were advertising for a copywriter, somebody with an excellent command of the English language, preferably a native speaker."

  "So those girls outside were waiting to be interviewed for the position?” Mia asked.

  “Maybe. We’re hiring for a few different positions, actually.”

  "Okay.” She looked around his office as if she didn't know how she'd gotten there.

  "We're an ad agency, if you didn't know," he added.

  "I did," Mia said slowly, "but I didn't come here for a job interview."

  "Are you here because you're interested in our services?"

  "Not exactly."

  She seemed to be struggling for words. Luc decided to help her out.

  "What do you do in Paris? Are you working here?"

  "I'm a journalist, actually. I work for Seattle Life, but I'm taking a one-year hiatus to live here, but no, I'm not here to work."

  "So you're here for an extended vacation?"

  "Sort of." Mia shifted uncomfortably in her chair. He could tell she was struggling with how much she should reveal. "This may sound strange, but I'm looking for a woman who could possibly be my sister. I think she lives in Paris, and that's why I'm here."

  Curiosity flashed in his eyes. "Can you tell me more?"

  She took a deep breath and gave him a brief rendition of her backgroun
d. Mia told him about her family in Seattle, how she had been adopted, and how she had come across their Fizz commercial on YouTube, where she noticed a woman who looked eerily like her.

  "It sounds pretty silly to say this out loud," Mia said. "In fact, it might even be crazy. I've put my life on hold to chase someone who might not even exist. I know I may be grasping at straws here, but the resemblance between us was so striking. All I want to do is find this girl and find out the truth. If she's not my sister, fine. At least I got to enjoy a year in Paris. But if she is, I wouldn't even know how to explain how much that would mean to me. I needed to take the chance and find out."

  Luc was touched. "I see."

  "I tried calling LUX from Seattle, but no one seemed to know anything, or they would transfer me to different people, then never get back to me. I figured since I'm in Paris, I'd come and try to speak to someone in charge. I didn't know it would be you."

  She looked at him, imploring, passionate. The fierceness of her gaze caused his heart to skip a beat.

  "I'm one of the cofounders of this company," he said.

  Mia smiled. "So I'm talking to the boss?"

  "You are." He smiled back. “If I were in your shoes, I'd probably do the same. I’m sorry you were having trouble getting an answer from my employees. Maybe I can help you."

  "You can?"

  Luc nodded. "Our company shot the commercial, and we have it on file. We have a screening room where you can view it, and it'll be better than the screen quality on YouTube."

  "Thank you." Mia beamed. "You don't know how much this means to me."

  Ignited by her hopeful smile, Luc punched a few buttons on his desk phone. "Jean?…About nine months ago, we shot a commercial for Fizz featuring Les Slinks, remember that?... I need you to find the video from our catalog and set it up for screening...merci." He hung up. "It'll be a few minutes before it's ready," he told Mia.

  "Thanks, I really appreciate it, but don't you have other interviews?"

  Luc paused. He did, but this was worth more of his time. "Don't worry about it. So, did you plan on working while in Paris, or did you want to take the year off entirely?"

  She let out a small laugh. She was becoming more and more at ease in his presence, like the girl he'd met last night.

  "To be honest, this trip was a last-minute decision. I do have some savings. I didn't exactly make firm plans, and I figured I could pick up some freelance writing jobs here and there."

  "Then why don't you apply for our copywriting position?" Luc asked. "We're making plans to expand our business to both the UK and the United States, and we need more English writers."

  "Really?"

  To Luc's relief, Mia looked as if she was considering it.

  "Our latest project is with a French lingerie company. They want to expand their stores to London first, then other cities in the UK to follow, then America. Since you're a writer, I'm sure it'll be a good fit for you. I'm sure you'd be able to contribute creative ideas. We pay well, the hours are good, and we offer fringe benefits."

  Mia slowly nodded. "It sounds like a good opportunity, even though I've never worked in advertising."

  "You look like someone who's up for new challenges."

  Mia smiled. "I am. But can I think about it?"

  "Of course."

  After Jean called him back to tell him that the video was ready, Luc escorted her to the screening room, passing the waiting room where a few interviewees—more women dressed in drab, serious colors—smiled and greeted him.

  "I know the lead singer of Les Slinks," Luc told Mia as he opened the screening-room door for her. "Are you a fan?"

  "I didn't know who they were until I saw the commercial," Mia replied. "I'm not exposed to a lot of French music, but I've bought both of their albums since, so I guess you can say I'm a fan now. Why, are you?"

  Luc chuckled. "Yes, we're quite close."

  "How come you're close to the lead singer?" Mia asked. "Important businessmen don't always hang out with rock stars, do they?"

  Luc chuckled. "This particular rock star is my brother."

  "Get out!" Mia laughed. "Are you serious?"

  "I wouldn't joke about a thing like this," he said, mock serious. "Yup, Mathieu’s about two years younger. He's been making music since he was born, always banging on pots and driving the family crazy."

  "That's wild."

  "Naturally I was able to convince him to be in this ad. Well, it took a bit of kicking and screaming on his part. He didn't want to sell out, et cetera, but given the state of the music industry, he eventually agreed."

  Luc sat down next to Mia and waited for Jean to dim the lights.

  "Were all the people in the audience hired extras?" Mia asked. "Or real fans?"

  "Real fans," Luc said. "We hired one professional actor for the commercial, but everyone else turned up for the free Slinks concert. Les Slinks gave away free tickets. The ticket holders automatically had to agree to be in a commercial. It was win-win for everyone."

  "Are you able to find out who came to the concert?" Mia asked.

  Luc thought about it. "Les Slinks' management gave away tickets at a record store. People only had to line up to get their ticket. Unfortunately, we didn't keep records of who had each ticket. Plus, the tickets were transferable."

  "Oh." Her face dropped.

  Luc grimaced. He wished he could do more.

  "At least the record store was in Paris," he said. "She would've had to come here to get the ticket and attend the concert. Chances are good that she lives here."

  "That's true," Mia said.

  "It's a long shot, but I can even contact my brother and ask if he and the other members of the band remember anyone who looks like the woman you’re looking for.”

  "That'll be great. Anything would help, really. Thanks so much."

  To see the hope back in her expression made him happy. As they sat next to each other, their shoulders touched. Luc felt tempted to wrap his arm around her as if they were at the movies. But right now, being next to her was enough. After all, only yesterday night he had been furious with himself for letting her go.

  Chapter 5

  This morning, Luc had been someone Mia was struggling to forget. He'd appeared from the shadows on the streets of Montmartre and slipped away just as quickly, only to linger in her dreams. Now he was offering her a job.

  Being in his presence didn't just make her tingle, it was more like a seismic shift. Was that a good quality to have in a boss?

  Mia tried to think rationally. She could use the employment. She had enough savings to live on in Paris for half the year. Being the optimist that she was, she had figured she could pitch a few stories about Paris to newspapers and magazines and make the rest of her living that way. But a steady and challenging new job at a French company, where she would be able to make friends and learn the language, not to mention take free French classes, be covered for health care, and earn a decent paycheck, sounded wonderful.

  Luc would be a great boss...or would he be a distraction?

  "How did you start this company?" she asked.

  They were sitting inside the screening room, waiting for Jean to dim the lights and start the video.

  "I started LUX with my partner Didier about four years ago," he said.

  Mia was impressed. "It's a fairly new company, then. You're doing pretty well."

  Luc grinned at her. "Yup. If that persuades you to work for us, we are. And I'm a pretty good boss, if I do say so myself. We also have a pretty great snack table in the employee cafeteria."

  "But you're so young," Mia said.

  "Don't let this baby face fool you," he said. "I'm in my late forties."

  Her jaw dropped. "What?"

  He laughed. "Just kidding! I'm twenty-eight. My partner Didier is ten years older. He took me under his wing when I worked with him while we were both working at another ad agency. He became sort of like my mentor. I caught on quickly enough that he wanted to go into business
with me, and now we're business partners."

  "He must've thought you had something special if he decided to leave a stable job to start a new venture with you," Mia said.

  "Best decision he ever made," Luc said.

  "I see you don't lack confidence." Mia laughed. "How many employees do you have?"

  "We have almost thirty employees so far, so we're not so big, but if we do well with our next few campaigns, I have my eye on renting out the office on the floor on top of us. The first year, it was only four of us, so it has been a steady growth. If we win the contracts, we'll definitely need more help and more space in the office."

  "You are doing really well, then, if you're constantly growing."

  "We could always do better. I have a lot of goals, and I'm not even halfway through them yet. We're not in the top five ad agencies in Paris. They're in a league of their own, but I'm sure we'll get there."

  "I'm sure those companies have been around for decades to build their reputations," Mia said. "You're doing Fizz commercials already, with rock stars, even if one of them is your brother. I have no doubt your company's going to be the top in the country if you keep it up."

  Luc broke out into the biggest smile that Mia had ever seen.

  "Thanks," he said. "This is why I want you on my team."

  "What? To stroke your ego?"

  "Well, yeah."

  The lights lowered even more until the room was nearly pitch black. Jean started the video. Mia watched the same commercial with Luc that she'd been replaying for months on her laptop.

  "Pause there, Jean," Luc called out. "Zoom in on the woman in red behind the main actor."

  Mia watched the freeze frame of her potential sister getting blown up until it almost filled the entire screen. A rush of emotion flooded her chest. She knew she needed to look at the young woman objectively, with a cool, scientific eye.

  Good thing Luc was here. His brows furrowed as he scrutinized the screen. He looked at Mia, then back at the screen again.

  Mia swallowed as he turned back to her.