by M. L. Young
I closed my eyes and squeezed Roman’s hand before finally feeling the landing gear hit the runway and the brakes engage. The plane slowed, and I opened my eyes seconds later to see we were at a normal speed and taxiing up to the gate. I made it, and I was in Paris.
***
I was now on Paris soil, as we had gotten off the airplane, and the sights and sounds were so much that I thought I was going to explode from happiness. The airport was absolutely beautiful, and Roman held my hand and weaved us in and out of the crowds as if he had been here a million times and knew exactly where to go. We walked out of the terminal and down an escalator to the baggage area, where all of the limo drivers were waiting for their passengers.
“Monsieur Parker,” one of the signs read.
Roman and I approached the man, who seemed to know or remember Roman, and shook his hand happily before shaking mine.
“It is so nice to see you again, Monsieur Parker. The concierge will collect your checked luggage like always, and if you’d follow me, your ride is waiting patiently outside,” the driver said with a smile.
“It’s always nice to see you, Jean Claude,” Roman said with a smile as he put his hand on the man’s shoulder and we walked out with our carry-on bags rolling behind us.
Jean Claude took our bags and placed them in the trunk as Roman and I got into the backseat of the car, which was about the size of the town car we had driven in before. The interior was nice, with some chilled champagne sitting perfectly in a metal bucket filled with ice. There were two champagne flutes, and Roman took out the bottle and poured us some to sip on. I had begun to get a little more accustomed to champagne now, and with my birthday happening just a few months ago, I was now twenty-one, even though France has a lower drinking age than America.
“Are you ready, my friend?” Jean Claude asked as he slid into the car and adjusted his mirror.
“I am more than ready,” Roman said with a smile as he held up his glass.
“Then off we go,” Jean Claude replied with a cheerful smile.
***
We arrived twenty minutes later outside of our hotel, The Ritz. I was in sheer shock, for I had never in my twenty-one years stayed at a place this magnificent and luxurious, but I was more than ready to experience it.
Jean Claude took our bags out of the trunk and Roman and I walked into the hotel, with the concierge standing there smiling and waiting for us. Roman greeted all of them by name and with hugs, while I stood there smiling at how amazing he was. Even with all of his money, his prestige, and his power, he took the time to be friends with people who made much, much less than him. He didn’t care what you did for a living or how much you had, as long as you were nice and respectful to him. If you did that, then you were great in his book and he’d treat you like an old friend every time you saw him.
***
We walked into our room, the most luxurious suite they had, and found fruit, pastries, champagne, and water waiting for us on a sterling silver platter located on the gold coffee table in the living room.
“This is so beautiful.” I twirled in a slow circle, taking in the incredible room, before I sauntered to the window and looked at all of the sights and sounds outside.
“Yes, that view is pretty spectacular,” Roman said as he stood there with his arms crossed, smiling, and watching me, as if to suggest I was the spectacular view.
“Can we rest? I’m really tired.”
“We can rest for a couple hours before dinner,” Roman said before he grabbed my hand, kissing my cheek, and then guided me into the grand bedroom, which had huge golden bedposts with a sheer canopy above.
“Thank you,” I said as we lay down and he came up behind to spoon me.
“Thank you for coming. Now let’s rest before we start our vacation,” he said.
I closed my eyes, smiled, and drifted away as happiness filled my entire body.
Yeah, this vacation is definitely going to be hard to forget.
Chapter Three
Roman and I woke up the next morning fairly late, around ten in the morning, although it was closer to four in the morning according to our bodies. That was the problem with going overseas and skipping a few time zones ahead. Your trip was already short and filled with action, but your body couldn’t adjust as fast as you needed it to. We had stayed up a little later last night to try to adjust ourselves to Paris time. The naps in the middle of the day helped a little, but we were both still exhausted at this point.
“What are we doing today?” I asked with a moan as I rolled over and sat up.
“Well, I planned us a great excursion at the Louvre, and I think you’ll like what we will get to do there.”
“What are we going to do?” I asked confusedly before yawning and scratching the side of my head.
“Well, we’re getting backstage access to see the catacombs, and after that, we’re going to go shopping at some nice boutiques here in town,” Roman said as he sat up as well and stretched all of his muscles.
“How did you score that?” I asked in shock.
“I called in a few favors,” he replied with a small, yet powerful grin.
***
Roman and I had taken a shower together, but it was far from romantic or sexy. We could barely keep our eyes open, and we were both far too tired to even try and fool around in the slightest of ways. Besides, even if we were in the mood and really wanted to do it, neither of us had the energy. We were two cleaned, yet tired zombies.
The hotel staff brought up breakfast for us, which was nice considering how late we had it delivered. It was pretty light, consisting of croissants, fresh fruit, and some scrambled eggs and bacon. I hadn’t delved that far into French cuisine and eating habits, but I could tell they definitely didn’t eat like Americans, and I knew I might go a little hungry during this trip.
As we finished and went downstairs, Jean Claude was there patiently waiting with a smile to take us to the Louvre, which I was more than excited to see. I think the biggest draw of that museum is the Mona Lisa, and I had seen pictures of her since as far back as I could remember. I even did a report on her in the third grade and dressed up like her, so you could say I was somewhat of an expert on all things Lisa.
“Good morning, my friends,” Jean Claude said as he opened the car door for us.
“Good morning, Jean Claude, it’s a pleasure to see you,” Roman said as he patted him on the shoulder before getting into the car.
“To the Louvre?” Jean Claude asked as he got into the car and put his seat belt on.
“Yes my friend, to the Louvre,” Roman replied with a smile as he looked at me.
***
The Louvre, in all of its magnificence, stood in front of us. It was grand, almost looking like some kind of palace or castle instead of a museum. We certainly didn’t have anything in the world like this back home, and I was sure nowhere in the entire United States had a museum or building that was this spectacular.
As Roman and I walked up, there was a special entrance off to the side that was clearly not for the general public. It didn’t have any markings or signs, but there was a guard of sorts that stood out there and was obviously there to act as security and keep people out who weren’t supposed to be there. He was a hulking man, with a baldhead and wore a nicely made black suit, and he was acting as the gatekeeper for Roman and I.
“Puis-je vous aider?” the man asked.
“Yes, you may help me. My name is Roman Parker, and I have a tour waiting for me,” Roman said in English, even though the guard spoke French.
“Ah, welcome, Monsieur Parker, we have been expecting you. Go right in and talk to the receptionist Alice who is waiting,” the man said in a very thick English accent.
The door opened and Roman and I walked inside, hand in hand, to see the buzzing sights and sounds of the museum. The room we were in, well it was more like a holding area, was cut off from the rest of the museum, but wasn’t boxed in or its own room. We were very much visible to
all around us. The patrons went about their business looking at the old artwork, and we were given some privacy from the unsuspecting public.
“Hello, you must be Monsieur Parker and guest,” the woman, Alice, said from behind the counter.
“Yes, it’s very nice to meet you. We have a tour,” Roman said.
“Yes, your tour guide is Raul, and he will be here any second,” the woman said before giving Roman a form to sign, which he graciously did.
“Hello, are you Roman and Natalie?” a man asked from behind us.
We both turned around to see a handsome and tanned man, presumably Raul, standing there with a happy smile to greet us.
“Yes we are,” Roman replied.
“My name is Raul, and I will be your guide for this tour,” he said.
“Will there be any other guests with us today?” I asked as I looked around naïvely.
“Nope, it’s just us,” Roman replied with a smile.
I squeezed his hand tighter and Raul took us out of the pen and started to give us our guided tour. The museum was amazing, with works of art that were hundreds of years old hanging from the walls in full view of everybody. Raul went on explaining every piece of art as well as the history of the museum itself, but I couldn’t really pay attention to everything he said for I was too captivated by all I was seeing. I was trying to take in and remember as much as I could, for I didn’t know the next time I’d ever be able to come, and I wanted to remember more about the art hanging on the walls than Raul’s voice.
Three hours had passed, and by that point, we had seen most of everything there was to see, except for the Mona Lisa. Raul said we would see that later when the crowds were gone, and instead would go downstairs, into what he called the catacombs. I must admit that before we actually got down there I was a little frightened because of the name, but once we went down a guarded and key protected elevator, I found out that it really was just a giant and more modern underground labyrinth of tunnels and rooms. The catacombs instilled a vision of dungeons and rats running around, but this was more high tech and temperature controlled to keep the works pristine between cycling them out with others that were already on display.
***
“Are you ready to see her?” Raul asked an hour and a half later, as I knew he was referring to the Mona Lisa.
“I am more than ready,” I said with a smile as I rubbed my hands on my thighs to wipe the sweat off.
“If you’d follow me this way, there is an elevator nearby that will take us up right near her,” Raul said as he guided us to another locked and guarded elevator.
Raul inserted his key and access code, and the doors shut as we patiently and slowly went up floor by floor until the bell dinged and we were at our destination.
The doors opened, and I took a deep breath as we went out in the hordes of people who were all clamoring to get a vision of her. I knew we wouldn’t get to see her privately, which I was okay with, but I really didn’t know that this many people would all be pushing each other out of the way to see what she looked like up close and personal.
We walked around a corner and there she was in all her fame and glory. She was protected with a glass cover, and there were two armed guards standing on either side of her looking at the members of the crowd as they all tried to get an up close picture of her. She was amazing and took my breath away instantly. The portrait really wasn’t that large, and we got as close as we could, with the guards noticing Raul and letting us come to the side of the velvet rope barrier, unlike the other patrons who noticed us before quickly looking away as they were herded out of the room.
“Wow,” I said.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Raul asked.
“How come there are guards here?” Roman asked.
“When we receive threats towards her, we have guards stationed until we believe the threats have subsided,” Raul said.
“Who would want to steal her?” I asked.
“The stupid criminals who don’t realize that there isn’t anyone stupid enough to actually buy the painting. That would almost be a certain life sentence here in France,” Raul stated.
I continued to look on in awe for ten more minutes before Raul stated the tour was over and Roman chimed in to say we had to leave if we were to go shopping before dinner.
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” I asked as we walked away.
“Yes, you are,” Roman replied as he looked at me deeply.
I blushed, naturally, and he put his arm around me like we were in high school again. Whenever I was with him I felt as though I was on cloud nine, and there seemed to be nothing in this natural world that could pull me apart from him or make me believe he wasn’t the true and only one for me. We were highly in love, and I knew that this trip had a special meaning and ulterior motive that would show itself as the hours passed by. The only problem was knowing what this motive was, and when it was going to peep its head and finally reveal itself.
Roman and I went back to the secluded pen we had gone to when we arrived, and Raul dropped us off before Alice chitchatted with us and had Roman sign another piece of paper and pay for the tour, which he did before leaving Raul a gigantic tip, even by his standards. Raul wasn’t there to collect the tip, for it was on Roman’s black card anyway, but I knew Raul would likely choke when he saw the ridiculous amount that he received.
“Jean Claude should be waiting for us outside. Shall we go? I have some great shopping I think you’ll really enjoy,” Roman said.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Well, we are going to a very nice restaurant tonight, so I thought we could get you a magnificent dress and maybe even a little jewelry to go along with it,” he replied.
He opened the door and we walked outside into the warm Parisian air hand in hand, the way we always were.
“That sounds really great. Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?” I asked.
“Making you happy and buying you things is never any trouble at all, Natalie. I love you, and I want to make you feel special.”
“Don’t worry, Roman, you easily have that covered,” I replied with a smile before giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Chapter Four
Roman had bought me an elegant and sexy flowing emerald dress after the Louvre, and I picked up a thin silver necklace with a small diamond pendant hanging from the bottom. The necklace was small and rather unassuming, but it was also beautiful and simple, which is what I wanted. I didn’t need all of these over-the-top and madly expensive pieces of jewelry, and sometimes the small and simple things were the best.
Roman wouldn’t elaborate on where we were going to dinner, but said that if I liked going to our little French restaurant back home, that I would be absolutely over the moon with the place we were going to tonight. He said that the waiting list is eight months out, but because of both his black card privileges and just his name, he got a table for two for tonight. I guess being with a man like Roman really does have its perks, although I’m the type of girl who would be happy with going to a drive-thru.
Roman and I arrived to dinner at eight in the evening, as a doorman came and opened the passenger door for us. Jean Claude said to call when we were ready to leave and he would be back within ten minutes. Roman gave him some money to go and treat himself to a nice meal. Saying that Jean Claude was appreciative and thankful was an understatement, and you could really see how much it meant to him. I really liked him, and I’d be sad when we had to leave.
“Good evening, monsieur and madam,” the doorman said as we got out of the car.
“Good evening, my good man,” Roman said as he helped me out and onto the curb as I tried to hold my dress up as to not rip or dirty it.
I intertwined my arm with Roman’s, and we walked up to the door, my clutch purse held firmly in my hand, as another doorman opened the door and smiled, welcoming us to his place of business.
As we entered, I was blown away by the simply elegant décor and gold inla
ys that were pressed throughout the restaurant. The building, which must’ve been hundreds of years old, had a certain historical charm as well as hints of modern touches and amenities. The restaurant was completely filled, and I wasn’t even sure they would had kept our reservation for that purpose. Everybody inside, adults only, were dressed to the nines and no one had even so much as a hair out of place. I felt a little weird being around such nobility and wealth, but I accepted that this might be my new place and social group, and that I needed to get used to seeing people like this every once in a while. Roman wasn’t all about this scene, but I knew he liked it deep down, and I didn’t want to alienate him and make him think I hated it.
Roman gave his name to the maître d’ who smiled and noted that we were in his book before he grabbed two beautiful and clean menus and guided us to our table. The restaurant was much larger than it looked once you actually got inside, and the restaurant seemed to be lit only by the dozens of candles, which were everywhere, including on top of the tables.
We were escorted to a small table for two located at the end of an aisle, which was convenient so we weren’t squished in between two other couples who were also trying to enjoy their meals. Our table was the only one that I noticed unoccupied on our way over, and I was thankful to get it because my stomach began to rumble and groan as we sat down.
The maître d’ smiled as he put our menus down, and he quickly left without saying another word. This was much different than being in America, for we didn’t even learn about our waiter’s name or about any specials of the night.
“This place is really fancy,” I whispered to Roman as I opened my menu.
“Yeah, it’s a little more upscale than we’re used to, but I promise you that the food is to die for.” Roman opened his menu and began to look over the choices.
The menu was, of course, all French, and I really had no idea what anything was. I felt as though I needed some kind of translator to even get through this experience, and all I was doing was trying to eat dinner.
