by Sierra Rose
“You can’t,” he argued. “It’ll break the terms of the Will, and we’ll lose everything.”
I narrowed my gaze. “Guess you better take the floor then.”
“Fine. You win.”
I unpacked a couple outfits from my suitcase, then walked inside the spacious bathroom. There were etched mirrors, a shower, a huge bathtub, and a toilet in a separate room. The hot shower felt wonderful after our long trip. Nothing in the hotel was cheap, not even the showerhead. It felt like I was standing under a pounding rainstorm; never had a shower been so invigorating. I slipped into a long, silk gown and wrapped a white, silk robe around me as I picked up some of the clutter in the room.
“You’re still the same old neat freak I remember,” Jake said with a big smile on his face. He was all sprawled on my bed, watching television.
“And you’re still a slob,” I said picking up his dirty socks and throwing them at him.
He laughed.
“You mind getting off my bed?” I asked.
His eyes turned back to the television. “After this show.”
I pulled back the covers. “C’mon, Jake. I’m so tired.”
“So hop in bed with me. I’m gonna go soon, and like I said back at the safari, I don’t bite…much.”
I shut the television off. “No. I’m going to bed now.”
“Fine. I guess I better retreat to the floor.”
“Thank you,” I said politely.
I slipped into the cozy bed and snuggled into my pillow. We would be heading to the Eiffel Tower the next day, to take the required photo. I hoped it wouldn’t take long, because I just wanted to hurry and put the whole escapade behind me.
Jake grabbed the blankets and started making a bed on the floor. After he switched off the light, he said, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Jake,” I said, and within minutes, I was fast asleep.
Chapter 4
“No, I can’t fax it,” I told the lady on the phone. “I’m in Paris.”
Jake motioned for me to hang up.
I shooed him away and continued. “I had to change it to stay current. Remember, fashion is always changing, Miss Debare.” I sighed, shook my head, and hung up.
Jake smiled.
“What?” I asked.
“You’ll be quitting your day job anytime now. You’re such a fashion entrepreneur.”
“Jake, owning a boutique and website is no different than owning any business. It takes hard work, know-how, perseverance, and dedication—some things you don’t know anything about.”
Ignoring the insult, Jake said, “Along with lots of money.”
“Yes…money that I don’t currently have.”
“Yet.”
I smiled. “You can’t just let dreams die, no matter what hurdles you have to jump through.”
“I know you work hard. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks. It really is more than a fulltime job. It’s something I do all day every day, and then I have to squeeze in my real job. Luckily, I can work from home, at least most of the time. I still have to report in at the office.”
Finally, we left the hotel and headed to the Eiffel Tower. It had been a cool fifty-nine degrees the day before, but this day was a warmer sixty-five, so I opted not to bring a jacket, a blessing since the temperature usually hovered around fifty. April is a wet month in France, and Paris is known for its sudden downpours, so I hoped we wouldn’t get all wet like we had on our elephant-back ride. I considered carrying an umbrella, but I didn’t want to lug it around everywhere.
We peered all around us as we slowly walked.
“This is what we always talked about,” Jake said.
“Yeah. I can’t wait to visit all the gardens and quaint little shops,” I said in an excited tone. I was quite happy to be there, in spite of the circumstances with Jake.
He threw an arm around me as we casually walked down the street.
I stared at his hand on my shoulder, then flung it off. He was cocky, and that only made me more determined to show him he couldn’t get any girl he wanted, at least not this one. “In case you’re forgetting, we are no longer romantically involved,” I said.
He smiled. “Not yet.”
“Jake, stop it,” I said. “It’s too late for us. I’m getting tired of saying it.”
“It’s never too late,” he said.
“Why don’t you go hit on some of these beautiful Parisians?”
“Because I don’t want them. I want you.”
I stepped onto the cobblestone path. “And what’s so special about me?”
“You’re one of a kind, Ashly.”
“Me?”
“I want to spend every moment of the rest of my life with you, Ashly.” He stopped midstride and pulled me close, wrapping his arms around my waist like he used to so long ago. He rubbed small circles on my back.
“What are you trying to do?” I asked.
“Don’t you remember all the plans we had for Paris?” he asked.
In fact, I did. I remembered every single detail, from kissing passionately under the Eiffel Tower to making mad, passionate love in the shower. I let out a tiny gasp as his eyes bore into me. He leaned in until his lips were just inches from mine, and I shuddered in anticipation. I could feel his hot breath on my skin. Is he going to kiss me? My heartbeat quickened, and with all the strength I could muster, I stepped back and blurted out, “We’re here to get the pictures we need and move on.”
“You can’t tell me you’re not feeling what I am,” he said. “The chemistry between us is stronger than ever.”
I looked away.
He continued, “You could have left with me with that croc, but you didn’t. I saw how scared you were for your life, but you were scared for me too. Why? Because there’s still something between us, something that never died.”
“Of course I care about you, Jake,” I admitted. “You were my first love, after all.”
“No, there was more to it than that. Your eyes gave everything away.”
“You’re reading more into it than you should.”
Still, I couldn’t stop thinking about his kisses or how much I craved his touch. It’d been so many years, and we’d both gone on with our lives. Even still, my heart had never stopped caring about him. He was my very first love, and that gave him a special place in my heart, but I had to stay strong and try to be his friend, at least until the trip was over.
Every time we passed a flower market or florist, Jake bought me a single flower, each one a different color. I knew if he didn’t stop buying me flowers, we’d never get to our destination.
“You definitely fit the part,” Jake said as we made our way to a park.
“What part?” I asked.
“You’re in Paris, and you’re a fashion icon.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “That’s about the best compliment you could give me.”
“It’s no wonder you and Nadia are trying to design your own fashion label. Nadia told me a little bit about it.”
“I’ve always dreamt of starting my own clothing line, and Nadia has come up with some amazing designs herself. If we combine our creativity, I can’t even imagine what the two of us could do! We dreamt about it for years, until I finally went all Nike and said, ‘Let’s just do it!’ Nadia sewed an original line created from my sketches, and I added my own color and fabric swatches to help her make the garments, and then…well, the rest is history.”
“Did you take art classes?”
“No. I’m kinda self-taught, I guess. I also use a fashion design program called Digital Fashion Pro. I started showing people in the fashion world our work, and we got an amazing response. A few of the models even wore our clothes to big Hollywood parties.”
“Wow. That’s cool.”
“A fashion journalist wrote this big article on Tina Evoza’s dress, and he wondered who the designer was. He guessed a bunch of famous ones, but it was only little ol’ me!”
“How
exciting! Are you thinking about mass producing or just doing a small production run to see how things go?”
“Either way, we need a lot of money to get our line off the ground, but for now, we’re just doing a small production. We already wasted $5,000 on a botched production run, and I’ve practically tapped out my savings trying to get this thing going.”
“Don’t give up, Ashly. If anyone can pull it off, you can.”
“I hope so. Our clothes are different and unique. They stand out. Every day, I think of new ways to broadcast our brand, to make a name for ourselves. We’ve got so many ideas, from casual to formal.”
“What’s casual?”
“We started out with fashion t-shirts in cute colors with glitter. We went to every event in town, all the fairs and festivals, and tried to sell them. Last summer, we made almost $20,000.”
“Whoa! Twenty grand on t-shirts? That’s insane!”
“Yeah, but we wanna go bigger. I love designing t-shirts, but I want to design regular shirts, pants, and dresses.”
“I love your big dreams.”
“Yeah, I hope to be the next Coco Chanel.” Jake cocked a brow and I continued. “It’s a famous fashion icon.”
He grinned.
“I’m always aware of cutting-edge fashion trends, and working in that world only helps. But people need to know we exist, and we need to create a bigger buzz, so I landed a spot for a radio interview for the two of us next month.”
“You’re so passionate about your work. It’s impossible for your vision not to become a reality.”
“Well, I sleep, eat, and breathe fashion. Nothing would make me happier than seeing people wearing creations designed by our brand. I have inspiration, dedication, passion, and one heck of an imagination.”
“Make sure you maintain a good price point on your merchandise,” Jake said. “That’s the only way you’ll ever make any money, through wholesale and direct to the consumer.”
“Hmm. I had no idea Mr. Fireman also dabbled in business.”
“I actually know more than you’d think. It’s kind of a hobby of mine, and I’ve got a lot of downtime for reading at the firehouse. I’ve even taken some online classes. It’s just something I enjoy. Maybe I’ll run my own business someday.”
“Maybe you can look at our business plan and see what you think.”
“I’d love to,” he said as we walked into the park.
A woman with long, black hair approached us, selling flowers.
Jake bought a rose as yellow as the sun and tucked it in my hair, just above my ear. He flashed me a smile, showing off his perfect white teeth. “This represents all the light you bring into my life,” he said, ever the flirt.
I grinned. It was corny, but even in Paris, he could switch on his irresistible charm. “I’ve been rambling on and on,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me about being a firefighter in Texas? It must take a lot of courage and a real desire to help people.”
“Yeah. I’ve been doing it for years now.”
“It really is admirable. I know you always talked about doing it.”
“When I got the job, I was ecstatic. We handle all sorts of things, from medical emergencies and house fires to false alarms and educating the public on fire safety. Emergency calls can happen at any time during the day or night. It’s our job to respond immediately.”
“Wow. I bet you lose a lot of sleep.”
“Constantly. When I get to a scene, I have to assess each emergency situation. I study the properties of the fire, the probability of the fire spreading, and victim needs. I have to make sure we can actually contain it. We must all intimately coordinate our activities and work as a team.”
“What made you decide to put in for a transfer in to come back home?” I asked.
“Actually, our chief told me about an opening here. The fire chief here is a friend of his and a great guy. Plus, there was a pay increase, with better benefits. My chief said they needed a qualified firefighter, but I told him I was happy there. The next thing I knew, he was putting in the paperwork for my transfer. I thought about fighting him on it, but then I remembered all my friends, family, parents…and you.”
“Well, everyone was excited. I heard they threw you a big party and everything.”
My phone rang.
“Hey, if you don’t mind, I’ve gotta take this.” I stepped away to talk to my retailer for a moment, and when I hung up and walked back over to Jake, he smiled.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“Yes. I’ve taken care of everything.”
When I sat down on the bench, he sat next to me, and his arm brushed mine. My emotions were all over the place. He was stirring up feelings I thought I’d buried long ago. There was no doubt about how hot he was, and I couldn’t help but be attracted to him. Any woman in her right mind would have been all over him, because he looked like a model right off the front cover of GQ. He still took my breath away, but the rational side of me kept me focused. He was poison, and I knew I needed to keep my distance. I knew the best thing for me to do was to complete my mission, collect my pay, and be on my merry way.
He turned in a circle and peered around. “Hey, why don’t we rent a car and drive around?”
“We’re not gonna be here long enough for that.” Then suddenly, a thought came to me. “Remember when you taught me to drive a stick-shift?”
He laughed. “Heh. You almost gave me whiplash,” he said, smiling.
I playfully slugged him. “Hey! It didn’t take me long to figure it out.”
“You almost ran over your neighbor’s poodle!”
“Well, the little thing darted right out in front of me.”
“I remember making out in the back of your car, and we accidently—”
“Hit the stick, and the car rolled down the hill. Oh my gosh! It hit a tree, and my father almost killed me.”
“He grounded you for three weeks or something, didn’t he?”
“A whole month!”
“Yeah, that’s right. You missed Homecoming.”
“And I’d bought that red gown you couldn’t keep your eyes—or your hands—off of.”
“Well, you got to wear it on our big date night to the opera.”
“You hated the opera. I’m still sorry I made you sit through that. My mother bought the tickets, though, and I didn’t want to offend her. At least my red dress didn’t go to waste.”
“I remember that dress.” His entire face lit up. “It fit you like a glove. You looked so hot.”
I smiled. “You couldn’t stop staring at me all night.”
“And I still can’t, Ashly. You’re so beautiful.”
“So…would you sit through another opera with me?”
“Would you promise to wear that little red number?”
“You always loved red.”
“Heh. Well, I can’t really hold the opera against you. How many baseball games did I drag you to?”
“Too many to count.”
He laughed.
I continued, “Do you still use a whole bottle of mustard on your hotdogs?”
“Yeah. That’s what makes the hotdog so delicious.”
“If you say so. Wait…are we really back to talking about condiments again?”
He chuckled. “I guess so.”
Talking about those times brought back so many familiar memories, and I couldn’t help but smile inwardly.
“Here we are,” I said, pointing ahead at the Eiffel Tower, the global icon of France. The wrought-iron, lattice tower built on the Champ de Mars beside the River Seine in Paris was mesmerizing. “It’s so big,” I said.
“It’s amazing,” Jake said. “It’s one of the things we always talked about visiting. It was on our dream list, remember?”
“How could I forget?” I retorted. “I’m surprised you never came here on your own.”
“It wouldn’t be the same without you. I saved Paris especially for you.”
“If it weren’t for
my mother’s Will, you’d be waiting a long, long time.”
“I never would have come at all. I refused to share Paris with anybody but you.”
“Still a charmer, huh?” I said, setting down the picnic basket and the huge bouquet of colorful, sweet-smelling flowers he’d bought for me from every vendor and kiosk we’d passed.
He smiled as he spread a blanket on the grass. He glanced down at the folder containing the instructions for our picture. “Okay, so…we have the checkered blanket, the picnic basket, the crackers, the cheese, the wine, and the glasses. It says we have to take one daytime picture and one nighttime one.”
I set the camera up on the tripod. “Let’s get the daytime one now, and we’ll come back for the night one later.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “We’ll have this place knocked off the list by tonight. We can leave first thing in the morning to our next destination.”
“Pour the wine and get the cheese and crackers out.” As he set things up, I fiddled with the camera to make sure the shot was perfect. I could see the Tower in the background, in perfect focus, with our picnic in the foreground, so I set the automatic timer and rushed over.
Jake smiled and handed me a glass of wine. He proceeded to put an arm around me, and I smiled awkwardly. I couldn’t believe I was there, picnicking with him in front of the Eiffel Tower. Am I nuts? I had to mumble.
After the flash went off, he pulled his arm down and scooted away from me.
I got up and walked back over to the camera to check the picture. I let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s all wrong.”
“What?”
“I can’t see the picnic basket. I thought you were taking care of that.”
“Simple fix. Let’s do it again.”
I let out a groan. “I’d prefer not to.”
“The picture has to match the description. We’re not forfeiting our money over a picnic basket mistake.”
I hit the automatic button and rushed back over for another shot. There was that awkward moment once again as we sat next to each other. Thankfully, the light flashed quickly, signaling that the picture had been taken.
I hurried over to examine it. “We got ourselves a winner,” I said, satisfied.
