I leaned on the counter next to a wheeling rack holding several Chanel, Fendi, and Jimmy Choo shopping bags. It looked like someone had had a field day on the Champs-Élysées.
“Oh my gawd,” cried the woman who’d been standing next to us. “I couldn’t help but ova-hear. We’re from New Yawk, too. Yous are gonna doy when you see the riva view. I feel like we’re staying on the Hudson.”
Considering that the Hudson is notorious for its brown filth, I wasn’t so sure she drew a kind comparison.
I watched the men behind the counter exchange a look of disapproval.
“How nice,” I politely murmured. After our faux pas of not speaking the language, I certainly didn’t want to be associated with anyone who spoke our own language incorrectly.
Claude turned back to us, removed the keys from the folder, reinserted them into his machine, and punched in a code. “Enjoy your stay at Le Palais.” He handed the key to us with a flourish.
“Will you be needing help with your...” He pointed down at our clunky backpacks, which had shed a fine layer of dust on the hotel’s immaculate floor. “Luggage?”
He quickly withdrew his finger. It was as if he feared a bedbug would pop out and bite it off.
“We’re fine, thank you,” I answered.
A few minutes and three flights of stairs later, we walked into the room.
“Wow, wow, wow,” Tess said. She fell face first onto one of the big queen poster beds.
“Ack! Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to lay on one of these dirty bedspreads?” I scratched my head. “The first thing I do when I get to any hotel is flip the bedspread and sanitize the toilet seat. If these rooms could speak,” I shivered at the thought. “Just think of what goes on in here.”
“Okay, okay.” Tess gave me the hand and jumped off the bed. “Thank you for that visual.”
“Just protecting my little niecie.” I smiled sweetly, heading to the large windows. “And now for the most spectacular view in all of Paris. Drum roll please.”
I dramatically ripped open the curtains and heard Tess gasp behind me. “What the—”
“Fuck,” I finished. “This is a good view?”
I pointed my finger towards our magnificent view of an alley behind a restaurant. “Unless the river view is that stream coming from those pots of water the kitchen staff are pouring onto the street, we are in the wrong room,” I declared.
“It’s okay.” Tess sighed. “It’s not like we’re going to be spending all of our time in here, anyway. This room is still fabulous, and I can’t say thank—”
“That’s not the point. I think he downgraded us because he thought we were dumb American backpackers. Well, no one is going to make a fool out of me.” I picked up the phone.
Tess pressed her cheek on the glass. “Aunt Lu, if you look all the way left, you can kind of see a glimmer of water.” I knew she was probably hoping to appease me, and I waved my hand in response.
“Bonjour,” said the operator who answered my call. “Puis-je vous aider?”
“May I please speak to Claude? We were promised a spectacular river view, and I think there may have been a slight mistake,” I said as I smiled into the phone.
“I’m sorry, Mademoiselle, but Claude is with another guest. May I help you?”
“Actually, I’ll come down and wait.”
Five minutes later, Claude wore a strained smile on his face as he watched me approach the front desk. Clearly, he had been warned I was on my way.
“Bonjour, Mademoiselle. Colette said you were not pleased with your room?”
“The view,” I corrected.
“Ah, I see,” he nodded. “Even though you can see the river?”
“Not without sticking my head out the window,” I answered with artificial gaiety as I skewered him with my eyes.
“I’m sorry to hear that. You have one of our finest rooms in our hotel, but if you are that unhappy....” He held up a new key.
“Thank you.” I exhaled and reached for the key.
“This key will grant you access to our rooftop where you can enjoy a 365-degree view of Paris. Complementary coffee and tea are served from seven o’ clock—”
“Wait,” I insisted. “This will also lead to a new room, right?”
“I’m afraid not, Mademoiselle. There are no rooms with a better view.” A flicker of fear crossed Claude’s face. His face, once irritatingly handsome, was now just irritating.
“But you said,”—I paused to draw in a breath—“that our view was spectacular before you changed our keys at check-in. Were my niece and I not worthy of your finest? Was it because she said we were backpackers?”
“No, as I said—”
“I know what you said and it is not acceptable. Our stay is a gift for my niece, and if I wanted to stare at the back of a filthy kitchen, I would have stayed at one of her youth hostels.”
As angry as I was, I still wanted to make one thing clear: I had nothing to do with her previous choices of lodging. Claude’s upper lip curled up ever so slightly as he listened to me speak.
“Don’t you judge me, Claude, with your perfect”—I waved my hand in front of him—“everything.”
“Just so you know,” my hand remained in the air as if I were testifying, “I don’t usually look like this. I know I need tweezers. They took it away on the airplane. Silly me thought plucking stray hairs in the natural sunlight would be a bonus. Like I’m really going to hijack the plane with a Tweezerman?”
Claude folded his arms across his chest and tapped his lips with a finger. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“In Amsterdam, I had to use a three-minute token to take a shower. And do you know what my window overlooked? A view of an apartment where an old man was not a fan of wearing pants.”
All the pent up agony and exhaustion of the past week exploded from me. I knew I was ranting, but I was powerless to stop myself. I hadn’t exactly been sleeping well in those hostels, and the emotional rollercoaster and stress of getting through the supposed wedding day had caught up to me.
Claude had covered his entire mouth with his fingers, but I could still see the crinkles around his eyes.
“I may sound like a drama queen to you, but my dear Claude,” I said with my eye narrowing as I paused to take a breath, “If I don’t get a room with a freaking view, I am going to lose my shit.”
The phone rang, and Claude held up a finger. “Excuse me for a moment, please.” He lunged for the phone.
“Ahem,” I heard a voice behind me.
I turned around and came face-to-face with the handsome man I had met in London, when I had come close to verbally assaulting a store employee. What were the odds? He even wore the same Yankee hat and shit-eating grin.
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Feeling like a fool for the second time, I subtly wiped the trickle of sweat that had formed on my upper lip.
“I ... I didn’t realize anyone was waiting behind me. What are you doing here?” I stammered, mortified but also still on a rage, high from my adrenaline-fueled tirade. “How long have you been standing there?”
He looked amused as a smile teased his lips. “Long enough to see that the angry American strikes again.” He nodded his head in Claude’s direction. “I never saw anyone answer a phone so fast in my life.” He winked at me. “Is there a problem with your room?”
“The room’s fine, it’s just that...” I closed my eyes and shook my head. “I’m really not an angry person.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Forgive me. I don’t know where I got that idea from. Not that it’s any of my business, of course.”
“Of course,” I responded with a fake smile.
I turned my attention back to Claude who was still on the phone. Through the reflection of a mirror behind the desk, I could see Tess headed towards me. She was carrying two coffees and walked beside a man. As she got closer, I realized it was Mark and couldn’t help but feel a bubble of happiness rising inside of me. I was excited for her to have
a new love interest and relieved to be saved from the Yankee behind me.
“Hi Mark,” I called out as I turned around. “How funny that you ran into each other already.” I winked at Tess.
“Yeah, really,” Yankee answered. “That was quick.”
I shot him a look. Mind your business.
“Hey Lucy,” Mark said, greeting me with a kiss on the cheek. “I see you’ve already met Simon?” He handed a cup of coffee to the Yankee.
“Sort of,” I answered and felt my throat catch as I realized who the baseball cap guy was. “Is this your—”
“Brother,” Simon said, flashing his perfect grin. “How do you do?” He extended his hand.
“Nice to meet you.” I clenched my teeth and accepted his hand.
I flashed back to the night I met Mark when he had said that I just missed his brother who’d gone off to the store. I hadn’t put two and two together and realized he’d walked into the same store I’d had.
“But why do you wear a Yankee hat if you’re from Chicago?” I blurted out the first foolish thing that popped into my head.
“My dad was born and raised in the Bronx. Is that okay with you?”
“This is my niece, Tess.”
I pulled my hand away and lunged for one of the coffees she held. Her eyes shone as she greeted Simon. There was no mistaking that Mark’s presence made her glow.
Simon pointed towards Claude, who had just hung up the phone. “Do you mind if I ask him something real quick?”
“Go nuts,” I said dryly.
“So,” Tess began, flashing me a quizzical look. “Were you able to change rooms?”
“No, he claims there are no rooms left that have a view. Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “Mark, have you checked in yet?”
“Yes, we checked in this morning, threw our bags down, and went for a walk. We haven’t even unzipped our bags and already managed to lock ourselves out.” He pointed a thumb towards his brother’s back.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “How’s your view?”
“Pretty spectacular I have to admit.” Mark cringed and gave us an apologetic look.
“Was pretty spectacular,” Simon said, joining the conversation. He dangled a key in front of me.
“What’s this?” I said. “Trying to pick me up?”
Both Mark and Tess laughed, but Simon just shrugged, his eyes twinkling again.
“I am offering you our room,” he said with a tiny half bow that suddenly had me thinking of princes and courtly manners. For the first time, I looked Simon square in the face and was taken aback by the kindness in his big brown eyes.
“Simon, don’t be ridiculous,” I said.
“Yes, stay with us,” Mark pleaded. “The more the merrier.” He looked longingly at Tess.
“What I meant,” Simon said, shooting his brother a look, “is that you can have our room, and we will have yours. A new room with a new view.”
“Oh. Yes, be ridiculous,” Tess said. “That’s so nice of you!”
I stepped on her toe.
“Good idea,” Mark agreed. “Not as clever as mine...” He laughed and said, “but still good, nonetheless. A view is wasted on two guys who would rather sleep with the curtains tied closed.”
Simon nodded. “I barely even noticed the view,” he confessed.
“We couldn’t,” I said, out of principal alone.
“I think you could manage,” Simon said, narrowing his eyes. “Obviously, it means more to you than it does to us. I work at a camp and spend most of my summers sleeping on top of a cobweb-covered bunk bed. We can roll anywhere.”
“A camp?” I said before I could stop myself. I recovered quickly. “I mean, um, we can roll anywhere, too. Right, Tess?”
This time it was her turn to shoot me a look.
Simon raised his eyebrows and gave me a sideways glance. “I somehow find that hard to believe.”
I wondered where this thirtysomething grown man, a camp counselor sporting a baseball cap, came off judging me. Wasn’t he too old to be working odd jobs, anyway?
Sensing she needed to run interference, Tess quickly spoke. “It’s just that she, we, would feel bad taking your room away from you.”
Simon groaned and downed the last of the coffee he had been chugging. “Mark, can you please talk some sense into these crazy women? I’m going to ditch this.” He waved the empty cup.
We watched Simon walk towards a trashcan by the lobby exit. For a moment, I lost my train of thought when I couldn’t help noticing, despite myself, he had a really nice ass.
“Honestly, guys,” Mark said, “we really don’t need it. That’s all there is to it.”
Mark’s phone rang and as he stepped away to take the call, and Tess placed a hand on my arm. “Please, Aunt Lu,” she whispered. “Just take it. Simon’s being so sweet and I really like Mark. Can you please be a little nicer to his brother?” It wasn’t like Tess to reprimand her elders, and I felt a little foolish.
“I’m sorry,” I said, crinkling my nose. “I’ll definitely be nicer, but...” I paused to sigh. “I’m not so sure we should take their room.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” I frowned and paused for a moment. “I don’t want to feel ... oh, you know ... obligated.”
“Obligated?” Tess stared at me in disbelief. “Obligated to what? Oh no,” she gasped and placed her hands on her cheeks. “Are we going to have to have sex with them now? I mean, clearly if you take his room, you’re going to have to marry him, right?”
I looked at Tess and chuckled. “I’m being silly, aren’t I?”
“Just a tad.” She pinched her thumb and pointer finger together. “Aunt Lu, this isn’t the 1900s. No one is going to label you a whore or expect you to put out. Unless, of course you want to.” She winked. “Simon’s pretty cute, huh?”
I rolled my eyes and looked away, only to see Simon heading towards us. He held the key out like a peace offering. “Last chance, ladies. I would like to head to my room. Whichever room that may be.”
“Thank you.” I smiled through gritted teeth as I took the key. “We appreciate it.”
Twenty minutes later, Tess and I eagerly opened the door to our new room. I dropped my backpack on the floor and strode over to the window.
“Shall I?” I dramatically placed a hand on the curtain. This time, when I ripped it open, the view really did take my breath away.
Tess made a gasp. “Aunt Lu! Now this is a view.” She jumped up and down with excitement.
The city seemed to go on for miles, and seeing my first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower over the Seine, I felt overcome with emotion. I think it was a combination of joy for going where I’ve always dreamed, pride for breaking out of my comfort zone, excitement to share it with Tess, and gratitude that Simon and Mark allowed us to enjoy such a wonderful view.
I opened the French doors and leaned on the railing, lost in thought.
Tess appeared next to me, snapping pictures on her phone, fast and furiously. “I can’t wait to update my Facebook, Instagram, Twitter ... Oh my God, this is amazing!” she sang, jumping up and down. “Ok stand here.” She pushed me up against the railing and stepped back to take my picture. After she examined it with a critical eye, she nodded with satisfaction.
“What’s this?” she asked.
I followed Tess’s gaze and watched her walk over to a wrought iron table and pick up a book.
“Looks like a guidebook of Paris. Someone is going to be very bummed.” Tess thumbed through the book. “It’s filled with notes.”
“Is there a name on it? Maybe it belongs to Mark or Simon?”
“No,” Tess said with conviction. “Mark said they barely set foot in the room. Besides, you heard Simon. It didn’t sound like he logged in any time appreciating this.” She swept her hand across the balcony. A used airline ticket flew to the ground.
I bent down to pick it up. “Simon Anderson,” I read, standing back up.
“Wow, he’s q
uite the details man,” Tess murmured. She handed me the book and disappeared inside the room.
“No kidding,” I murmured.
I opened to an earmarked page, which happened to feature our hotel. It had notes all over it about the beautiful view and historical buildings nearby. He obviously enjoyed the view way more than he cared to admit. The back jacket listed all the things he hoped to do while visiting Paris. Feeling as if I had violated his privacy, I quickly slammed the book shut and instinctively hugged it to my chest.
Chapter Five
Café au lait and a croissant. Twenty euros. Eating the overpriced breakfast in a chenille robe and fuzzy slippers. Priceless.
Facebook Status June 9 at 7:00am
Fifteen hours and two long hot baths later, I ran downstairs to get an extra toothbrush from the front desk. I’d had to use my old one to clean my iPhone charger port. Remnants of the hash brownie were so embedded in the crevices that I’d started to get a little paranoid. All I needed was for a drug dog to come sniff me out at one of the major tourist attractions.
It was a pretty humbling experience to check into a four-star hotel looking and feeling like a sloth, and then have to ask for a hygiene kit. Thankfully, Claude was nowhere in sight.
On my way back to the room, I stopped by the concierge desk to pick up a map of the area. That’s when I noticed a sign-up sheet for a day trip to work on a local farm in Bordeaux. Picking grapes sounded like the perfect French adventure. I figured we could try something different, broaden our horizons, and spend the day outdoors in the majestic French countryside. Yet when I called Tess from the lobby, she said she’d rather stay in Paris and had no interest in seeing Bordeaux.
Okay, I could do this alone. At the very least, I’d have a good idea to pitch to Janice. Sure, I would’ve loved to stay in my cozy robe, but who wanted to publish an article about a lazy woman in a robe? I signed up at the desk and ran upstairs to get dressed.
My plan was to perfect my pitch on the bus ride to Bordeaux, and I had to remind myself of that when my mind began to wander for the tenth time.
Focus, I told myself. Get something on paper.
Tales From a Broad Page 7
