Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2)

by Howe, Violet

  "Yep, I'm good." He stared at me for a moment, but I kept my head straight forward, knowing if I made eye contact with him I'd lose it, for sure.

  Cabe wasn't here. His choice, not mine. So I clenched my teeth together and shoved him from my mind once more as we reached the crowded lawn. The rare appearance of the sun had brought out Parisians and tourists alike, and people sat on the grass reading, talking, eating, or just basking in the rays.

  I followed Jack to an open area in the grass, unable to stop looking at the Eiffel Tower every few seconds. I'm blown away every time I see it. Like it's a mirage. Not even real.

  I laughed then, a nervous giggle of happiness welling up within me to drown out the sadness that had threatened my resolve.

  "What?" Jack asked.

  "I'm just happy. It's my birthday. I'm in Paris about to have a picnic at the Eiffel Tower. Life is good!"

  Even as I said it, my brain yelled Cabe's name and reminded me life was not good and I should be sad. But I refused to be. Maybe life back home was sad, but here in my alternate universe, in Paris, things were good.

  "Too bad we couldn't get a blanket." Jack looked around at the ground before taking off his coat and spreading it wide on the grass. "Here, take this and sit on it."

  "I'm not going to sit on your coat!"

  "It's black. Not like it's going to show a grass stain. Just sit on it. It's actually pretty warm here in the sun. I don't need it."

  "I can just sit on my jeans," I said. "Or my coat. I can take off my coat."

  "Don't be ridiculous. There's room enough for both of us on mine." He patted the coat beside him before emptying the shopping bags on the inner lining.

  We spent about an hour there on Jack's coat, finishing the bottle of wine between chunks of fresh, soft bread, salty cheeses, and sweet strawberries. We talked about Paris and traveling. Places I'd never been. Places he had been. Others where we'd each like to go. We talked about religion, politics, and food. I learned Jack is the youngest of three with one older brother and one older sister, and his parents still live in his childhood home.

  I shared that I have two sisters and a brother, and that my dad died when I was thirteen.

  "So any weddings for you, Ms. Wedding Planner? Ever been married?"

  "Nope. I just plan them. I don't participate in them."

  "Ahhh, a self-confirmed bachelorette, eh?"

  "I guess. What about you?"

  "No. I was engaged, once. But she seemed to think I needed to be home in order to be in a relationship. Which I guess I can understand. My job keeps me away a lot. It's okay, though. I mean, I like to do my own thing. Take off when I want to. Go where I want. Do what I want. When you're married, you have to take someone else into consideration. You have to do what they want. Or at the very least, make sure it's something they're okay with you doing. I don't know how well I'd handle that." He peeled the paper from the bottom of a fruit tart and finished it off in one huge bite.

  "I guess that's one way of viewing marriage," I said through a mouthful of chocolates. "I'd rather think that if you loved the person enough to marry them, you'd want to take them into consideration. You know, want to spend time doing things they wanted to do?"

  He brushed his hands together to rid them of crumbs. "You may be right. I need water, Birthday Girl. Can't wash down the sweet stuff with bitter wine."

  He stood and began to gather the remnants of our lunch just as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I looked at the screen with a mixture of dread and excitement, relieved to see it was Mama. I slid to answer it and barely got out "Hey Mama!" before my phone died.

  I panicked, knowing that woman would be on the phone with the American Embassy in minutes insisting I'd been abducted if I didn't find a way to call her right back.

  "I need your phone," I shouted. Jack immediately handed it over without question.

  "Mama, hey! I'm sorry. My phone died."

  "Hey, my baby girl! Happy birthday. Are you having the time of your life?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I've had an amazing day. I can't wait to tell you all about it, but I can't talk long right now." I felt bad enough using Jack's phone. I definitely didn't want Mama to go off on one of her tangents.

  "Okay. I tried to call you earlier, but I got your voice mail. I figured you was living it up in Paris and didn't have time to talk to us country folk back home."

  "I had the phone on silent. I was going in museums and churches and stuff. I must not have felt it vibrate."

  I mouthed ‘sorry’ to Jack. He shook his head and waved his hand telling me not to worry about it.

  "Is Cabe having a good time?"

  Her question was innocent, but I hesitated before answering. I didn't want to lie to my mother, but I also didn't want to tell her Cabe didn't come. Nor did I want to get into that conversation in front of Jack. I chose to be creative with the truth.

  "How could anyone be in Paris and not have a good time? It's fabulous, Mama. But I need to go."

  "Okay, baby. You have a great time, okay? Take lots of pictures. And don't forget to use protection."

  "Good grief, you're a broken record with that. I got it, I got it. Stop telling me."

  She laughed, and I cringed again at her sudden preoccupation with my sex life.

  We said goodbye, and I rubbed Jack's screen on my leg to wipe away any make-up before handing it back.

  "Everyone all good on the home front?"

  "Yep. All good." I swallowed against the lump in my throat. Hearing Mama's voice had reminded me how far I was from home.

  "You okay?" Jack asked.

  I nodded and blinked back tears. "Yeah. Just talking to her, and my birthday and all."

  "Awww. Come 'ere." He wrapped his arms around me, comforting and warm as I burrowed deeper into the pine scent of his cologne.

  I may have ended up in Paris alone, but I wasn't alone anymore.

  Still My Birthday (Long Day!)

  On Top of the World

  We walked to the refreshment stand underneath the Tower and bought water bottles, which we quickly drained.

  "Okay!" Jack said, tossing his empty bottle in the recycle bin. "Let's do this."

  "Do what?" I asked, afraid I already knew.

  "You conquered Notre Dame and lived to tell about it." He pointed above us. "You can't leave Paris without going to the top of the Eiffel Tower." He grinned, and the dimples in his cheeks deepened beneath those gorgeous teal eyes.

  "Oh hell no. You're insane." I shook my head and took a couple of steps backward.

  Jack laughed. "Come on! Think about how awesome it felt when we came down. You were so excited! Don't you want to feel that way again?"

  "I was excited to have my feet back on solid ground."

  He shook his head. "No, you were excited because you faced your fears and challenged yourself to step outside your comfort zone. That was just the beginning, Birthday Girl. The warm-up to the main event. You can do this."

  "Can't you find a tunnel or a secret passageway under the city for us to see? Aren't there, like, catacombs?"

  "You'd rather go in a dark tunnel filled with skulls than the top of the Eiffel Tower? Really? Besides, you've already been beneath the city. The Metro."

  I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, which went oh so well."

  Jack laughed. "Come on. You have one shot to make this birthday count."

  "That sales spiel already worked on me once. It won't work again." I smiled at him and crossed my arms over my chest.

  "But wasn't it worth it? Didn't you love the view? Think how awesome it'll be from here! It's even higher."

  "Okay, that is not helping your case." I lifted one finger and wagged it in front of him.

  "You're stalling. Let's do this, Birthday Girl."

  I shook my head again, but I felt no real resistance. After all, he was right. It was a day for facing my fears and stepping out of my comfort zone. I'd arrived in Paris yesterday morning alone and bereft. But I'd made the best of it and created some pretty
incredible memories along the way. I craned my neck back and shielded my eyes against the sun.

  "Oh, wow, Jack. How high is it?"

  "I don't remember. I think it's like six hundred feet. Want me to look it up or ask someone?"

  I smiled and shook my head. "No. It doesn't really matter, and knowing would just make it worse."

  He laughed as he wrapped me in another hug. "You can do this," he whispered against my hair.

  I knew I could do it, but that didn't stop my stomach from wanting to upchuck lunch.

  The sign for the lift said the wait was over two hours. I remembered Cabe's anger at the airport and how upset he'd been at the prospect of standing in the line. Jack seemed undaunted, however, deeming it worth the wait. My stomach turned its flips every time I looked up or thought about how high we'd go, but I also felt excitement building within me. My nerves buzzed with adrenaline. A lingering euphoria from my climb earlier today, perhaps.

  We'd been in line about a half hour when I looked up again and shivered against my will.

  "Are you cold? Here." Jack rubbed his hands up and down my arms.

  "Thanks. I'm okay. Just nervous."

  He looked ahead at the line before us, which barely seemed to move at all.

  "Come on," he said, taking my hand and pulling the stanchion up for me to go under.

  "What are we doing?"

  "The line for the stairs is a lot shorter. We can take the stairs to the second level and then take a lift from there. Besides, climbing the stairs will help warm you up."

  I pulled back on his arm. "No, no, no. No way. It'd be bad enough in the elevator. I can't climb those stairs and be able to look down and see how far it is. I'll flip out. I won't be able to move!" I stood firmly in my spot as he tugged lightly on my hand.

  "Tyler, you can do this," Jack said. "I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you."

  I started to tell Jack that climbing the stairs of the Eiffel Tower was nowhere on my bucket list. Like even if you looked all the way down the list, it wasn't there. But the way he looked at me, pleading with me to come with him, melted me a little. He'd made the difference in my birthday being special after Cabe left me high and dry. I didn't want to let Jack down.

  "Okay, but if I faint or throw up, it's all on you. Literally!"

  "You won't." He laughed and pulled me with him to the stairs. "You want to go in front of me or behind me?"

  "Neither" I laughed as the nervous energy inside me bubbled over.

  Seven hundred and four steps later, we reached the second level. Every single one terrified me. If it wasn't for Jack, I'd probably still be sitting on one of those damned steps with my head between my knees crying. Of course, then again, if it wasn't for Jack, I wouldn't have gone on the stupid steps to start with.

  He was an amazing coach, though. If I ever lose my mind and decide to run a marathon, I will definitely look him up and have him be my trainer. He encouraged me and waited patiently for me, moving aside to let other people pass when I needed to sit. He held my hand and stroked my hair, speaking softly to me the entire climb, instilling me with courage and strength. Jack made me want to reach the top. For him. For me. For my future endeavors and things I may add to my bucket list now.

  We walked around the second level and soaked up the view. No pictures or postcards from Paris could ever adequately capture its beauty. I tried to take in every single detail, but with so much to see, it felt impossible to absorb it all.

  Jack held onto the rail and leaned back, his face turned up to the sun, and his ever-present smile radiating almost as brightly. I felt a bit guilty about monopolizing his experience with my fears. I'm sure he would have enjoyed the climb up the stairs much more without me alternately crying, cursing, and hyperventilating.

  "I'm sorry about the stairs, Jack, I hope I didn't ruin it for you. I really appreciate you making me do this. You were right. It's incredible."

  "Don't be sorry! I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. Life is usually better when it's shared with someone else. Especially the scary parts. I was honored you let me share it with you, Birthday Girl."

  I smiled and turned back to feel the sun on my face. I saw the rays reflecting off Les Invalides's golden dome through a film of moisture. I had planned to share Paris with someone. As thankful as I was for Jack's appearance and his presence, it also made me painfully aware someone else should have been here with me. My smile faded as I blinked rapidly against the tears.

  "Hey, you okay? Did I say something wrong?" Jack asked.

  I shook my head but kept looking straight ahead, scared the tears would come spilling out if I looked at him.

  He knew something was wrong. To his credit, he didn't push the matter, although I'm sure his next question was because of my tears.

  "So, I don't think I asked you. What made you decide to travel to Paris by yourself?"

  He stayed silent while I considered my answer. I didn't trust my voice to speak right away.

  "I had originally planned to come with a friend"—pain pricked my heart at the word—"but it didn't work out. I didn't want to miss the experience." And what an experience it had been.

  A call for the open lift to the top floor rang out, and Jack took my hand again as we headed toward it. We piled into the crowded lift, and I felt certain I would throw up by the time we got to the top. I had visions of me passing out at the top of the Eiffel Tower. Paramedics rushing to the scene. Tourists snapping photos and posting them on social media. News crews reporting live on the scene. And Jack, standing there embarrassed. Insisting he didn't know me. Had never seen me before in his life. Disappearing into the crowd as they hauled me away.

  I didn't want to let him down or make him think less of me. He had put a lot of effort and encouragement into getting me up there. So I gritted my teeth and pushed my paramedic fantasy from my thoughts as I stepped out on top of the world.

  I have regrets in my life, to be sure. But taking the hand of a relative stranger and climbing five hundred and ninety feet to the top of the Eiffel Tower will never be one of them. (I looked up the height afterwards.)

  It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Truly magnificent in its fear-inducing, awe-inspiring, breathtaking, and nausea-defying awesomeness.

  A Perfect Ending to

  a Damn-Near Perfect Birthday

  We took the lifts all the way back down, and once again, I felt euphoria and intense hunger.

  We found a cafe near the river, where we sat under an umbrella, a cool breeze chilling us as the sun started its descent. Two hours went by like minutes, and I soaked up every bit of happiness I could pull from the scene. The sunset, the people around us, the conversation, and the magical energy pulsating through Paris.

  After we'd eaten and drunk our fill, we meandered along the riverbank in the dark. Jack took my hand in his, and I let him, enjoying his warmth and his company.

  "Wanna take a river cruise?" Jack asked. Memories of Cabe flooded to the forefront of my mind after I'd successfully held him at bay for a tiny block of time. I remembered him talking about the river cruise and how much he looked forward to taking me. I clenched my teeth and begged the anger to rise before sadness could take over. I would have loved going down this river with him, but he wasn't here. He chose not to be.

  "Let's do it," I said somewhat defiantly. "Let's take a river cruise."

  "You sure? You seemed to hesitate."

  "I hesitated about climbing over a thousand steps today, too, but that didn't stop you." I stuck my tongue out at him and walked up to the ticket counter.

  We sailed the Seine snuggled together underneath the blanket provided as we listened to the guide explain why Paris is known as the city of love. The boat's bright green and yellow lights danced along the river's banks and flooded over the tall buildings built alongside it. After a while, I rested my head against Jack's shoulder and breathed in his pine scent, lulled into a relaxed state by the movement of the boat and the wine I'd had with dinner. A mo
ment so perfect I wished I could freeze time. Just to be there for a bit longer. Wrapped in Jack's arms underneath the blanket as the cold nipped at my nose and cheeks, listening to the guide regale us with love tales, surrounded by the magic and splendor of Paris. I didn't want it to end. I didn't want to go back to my real life and the mess I'd left behind.

  We disembarked near the Eiffel Tower and sought out a coffee shop to get some hot java before the nightly light display began. It dazzled me all over again. The sparkling flashes added to the air of magic, another layer of the surreal spell Paris had cast over me where we existed in a different world, far removed from our everyday lives with their stresses and entanglements. I was mesmerized by the cold air, the bright lights, the buzz of the crowd surrounding us, and the warmth of Jack by my side.

  I don't know exactly what led up to it, or who started what. I don't know if Jack kissed me or I kissed him. I guess we kissed each other. One minute we were sitting on a bench, huddled close together as we watched the lights sparkle and dance, and then there we were. Lips on lips, tongue against tongue. Hungry and needy. Searching and exploring.

  I won't even lie and say I didn't enjoy it. And I won't even try to regret it.

  After all, I was in Paris, the City of Lights. The City of Love. I was in the arms of a handsome, successful, well-spoken, well-educated man whose company I enjoyed immensely. It was my birthday. A day that had been incredible from start to finish. Great sights. Great food. Great company. Great accomplishments.

  What could be a more perfect ending to a perfect day than a kiss underneath the Eiffel Tower while intoxicated by French wine and the magic of Paris?

  Jack pulled back and looked down at me, his teal eyes vivid green in the amber glow of the tower.

  "I wish I could stay right here. Right in this very moment," he whispered.

  I smiled at his own thoughts so closely echoing my own. I shivered as the wind swirled between us, and Jack pulled me closer in his arms as he kissed me again. Warmth seeped through my body and spread like wildfire. A deep warmth no cold could touch.