Lost and Found in Paris

by Lost

  Lost and Found in Paris

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Copyright

  For my Dad… my hero. Thank you for everything X

  Chapter One

  ‘Now that is the perfect dress to wear for a proposal.’

  Sophie Marchant turned away from the mirror. ‘We don’t actually know that’s what’s going to happen, Jo!’

  Jo pulled a face and flopped down on the bed. ‘We actually do.’

  Sophie gazed at her reflection again. ‘On a serious note… the right outfit?’

  Jo considered Sophie. ‘Yes. The perfect blend of naughty girl and… girl next door.’

  Sophie rolled her eyes. Jo was a straight-talking girl with a blond quiff, a no-nonsense attitude and three glorious tattoos Sophie wasn’t brave enough to have herself. Sophie’s best friend and all-round superstar, Jo could always be relied upon to tell the truth and shoot from the hip.

  Sophie gazed at her reflection. What on earth did a girl wear for an evening like this anyway? She had plumped for a ruby-red, lace skater-style dress with spaghetti straps and a fitted bodice, teamed with strappy, golden heels and a brand, new matching golden box clutch for the occasion.

  The occasion? Sophie smiled and bit her lip. She had been asked out to dinner at a beautiful, London restaurant with her boyfriend of three years, Ryan. Handsome, ambitious and caring, Ryan had impeccable manners, a great job and he was pretty much the model boyfriend. And tonight felt special. Different. As though something momentous might happen. It wasn’t something Sophie had necessarily ever wanted to happen because it wasn’t really her thing, but she was fairly sure it was going to happen. And despite her views on such things, Sophie did feel excited.

  Slipping on a gold cuff bracelet her mother had given her for her birthday, Sophie decided she was as ready as she could be for what might be ahead. Her heart thumped forcibly. Was she ready for this? Could a girl ever be ready for this? Sophie gave her long, dark hair a final brush and stepped away from the mirror.

  Jo got off the bed and put her hands on Sophie’s shoulders. ‘So, my friend,’ she began gravely, ‘this is most likely our last moment as single girls.’

  ‘Jo, neither of us is single,’ Sophie stated.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ Jo laughed. ‘Single girls as in… not… betrothed.’

  ‘Betrothed?’ Sophie shook her head. ‘Who even says such things?’

  ‘I do,’ Jo said solemnly. ‘In situations like this. And even though I’m an uber-independent estate agent and you’re a boho-chic photographer, we are just girls, standing in front of guys, waiting to be…’

  ‘Oh stop it.’

  Jo removed her hands from Sophie’s shoulders and picked up her golden clutch bag. ‘Godspeed. Go get him. Go get engaged.’

  Sophie held onto her clutch bag tightly. Engaged. Gulp. She was so… bohemian. Was getting engaged something she had ever envisaged for herself?

  ‘Come on. Your sister has been trying to marry you off for years.’

  Sophie pulled a face. It was true. Her twin, Eloise, seemed to be under the impression that Sophie’s life was incomplete because she didn’t have a ring on her finger and an actual husband on her arm. Eloise had married the first man who had asked her, a Parisian businessman called Georges, who was a good but rather lazy man, and really not Sophie’s idea of fun. Eloise still lived in Paris, near their mother and they were literally worlds apart, despite being deeply connected as twins.

  ‘Yes, well, Eloise is the marrying kind,’ Sophie explained. ‘I was and then I wasn’t and now I’m…’ She faltered, not sure what she was now.

  ‘We could be completely wrong about this…’ she said nervously.

  ‘Oh stop it,’ Jo scoffed. ‘Perfect boyfriend… tick. Everything going brilliantly… tick. Been acting strangely for a few weeks… tick. Clearly has something on his mind… tick, tick, tick. What else is it going to be?’

  ‘Well…’

  ‘You’re about to be proposed to,’ Jo insisted. ‘Come on, Soph. You’ve even seen the ring.’

  Sophie checked her hair. That part was true at least. Ryan had come home one night looking secretive and while he was in the shower, she had moved his rucksack and a small, black box had fallen out. Gasping, Sophie knew she should put it back without opening it but she was a normal person and a bit of a control freak with a need to know things. She couldn’t help herself: before she knew it, she had opened the box and was staring at an impressive solitaire diamond in a white-gold setting, nestling in lush, red velvet. Snapping the box shut, she had put it back in Ryan’s rucksack just in time as he emerged from the bathroom with a towel round his waist. Sophie hadn’t been sure whether to feel flattered, excited, sick, scared or all of the above.

  Ryan. Thirty three… two years older than her. Handsome in a rugby player kind of a way: tall, stocky and well-built. He had dark hair and blue eyes and was considered handsome and rugged by most people’s standards, Sophie’s included. Ryan worked for a forward-thinking corporate insurance company and he was rapidly working his way through the ranks towards having his own team. It meant that he spent a fair amount of time entertaining clients, but he was also a real homebody and he and Sophie spent plenty of quality time together.

  Was their relationship all candles and romance and passion? Sophie wasn’t sure. But it was stability and security and a kind of serene happiness. It was rightness. It was everything she needed. Sophie had experienced passion and excitement, a thumping heart and a spinning head before; it had left her reeling and it simply hadn’t been worth the pain. She had been left broken and battered, unsure she would ever find happiness again. Sophie threw the thought away, shrugging it off expertly, something she had learnt to do over time. And out of necessity.

  Jo was right about Ryan acting strangely of late, however, Sophie thought to herself, switching her thoughts back to her boyfriend. For the past few months, Ryan had seemed deeply preoccupied and distracted.

  ‘Jo. Could there be… any other reason for Ryan acting so strangely lately?’ Sophie was suddenly gripped by anxiety. ‘Maybe we’ve got this totally wrong. Maybe he’s…’

  ‘What? Leaving the country or something?’ Jo said, making her scorn of such an idea patently obvious with a dramatic eye roll. ‘No, Soph. No way. He’s besotted with you. He’s been acting weird because that’s what guys do when they’re about to propose. Trust me,’ she added confidently.

  Sophie smiled to herself. If anyone would know, it was Jo. She had been proposed to a record number of eight times. Eight times. Seriously. Sophie knew Jo was special; it was one of the reasons they were best friends. But still, eight times? It was impressive and oddly fascinating, because who knew what prompted a man to propose to a woman? It took some men a few weeks, some several years. It was one of those inexplicable things. Either way, it meant
that Jo had incredible – and proven – credentials when it came to proposals… and men’s associated behaviour.

  ‘Besides, you asked him recently, didn’t you?’ Jo probed, clearly believing that Sophie needed further validation.

  ‘I did, yes,’ Sophie admitted. ‘And he said he’s never been happier in his life and that I have nothing to worry about.’

  Jo nodded resolutely. ‘Well, there you are then. He’s nervous, he feels weird, he’s a man and he’s resisting settling down, because that’s what he’s programmed to do.’

  Sophie checked her reflection in the mirror again. Jo had all these theories about men being ‘genetically predisposed’ to resist settling down and getting married. Which didn’t seem to… marry up, ha ha, with all the proposals she’d received over the years, thinking about it.

  ‘And he works long hours,’ Jo stated reasonably and finally. ‘He’s tired, he’s stressed, he’s losing his shit because he wants to propose, but he doesn’t want to and he’s a man and therefore he’s…’

  ‘Genetically predisposed, yes, yes.’ Sophie cut her off and pulled herself together. ‘Ok, I’ll trust you. I’m sure it’s all going to be fine. I really should go.’

  ‘You should definitely go,’ Jo said, pushing her towards the door. ‘You have a fancy restaurant to go to and a gorgeous diamond to wear.’

  Sophie kissed her best friend on the cheek.

  ‘Enjoy it,’ Jo said with a grin. ‘I’ve enjoyed all of mine. All eight of them,’ she finished without a trace of ego. That was one of the best things about Jo: she was the epitome of modesty and self-effacement. She wasn’t sure what made men propose to her all the time either.

  Sophie left the house and jumped into a taxi. She hated tubes because she suffered from slight claustrophobia but she tonight felt as though it warranted a taxi.

  If Jo was right, Sophie thought to herself, breathing out jerkily.

  Arriving at the restaurant Ryan had chosen and booked, Galvin at Windows, Sophie looked up at the Park Lane hotel in awe. The London Hilton. How very Ryan: classy, elegant, refined. After a short lift ride, Sophie arrived at the twenty eighth floor and stepped out. Wow. What a restaurant! What a view!

  Ryan was seated at one of the tables by one of the vast windows and Sophie knew he must have asked for it specially. It was typical of him to go the extra mile and she loved him for it. He put down his beer and stood as soon as he saw her. He was wearing a sharp, navy suit with a crisp white shirt and a navy, silk tie. Classic, stylish… perfect. Sophie actually felt giddy. Maybe an engagement was what she did want after all. Maybe her cynicism was simply down to her parents not making it. Ryan was everything she needed and wanted.

  ‘Soph.’ Ryan kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand. She smiled back at him, feeling a rush of happiness.

  ‘You look amazing,’ Ryan said, staring at her dress. ‘You always do, but that… that dress is absolutely stunning.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Sophie took her seat, glad she had gone with the strappy red number. ‘I can’t believe this place… check out the view!’

  ‘I know, right?’ Ryan gestured to a waiter who immediately came over and took Sophie’s drinks order. ‘I didn’t know what you wanted so I thought you could choose when you got here because they have such lovely cocktails.’

  Of course. How very Ryan. If he wasn’t sure he was going to get something exactly right, he’d act the gentleman and get her input. Sophie decided to go for a cocktail called the ‘Portugal’. It was made with pink pepper Gin, white Port, lime, mint and homemade strawberry tonic syrup. Sophie wasn’t entirely sure about the whole gin craze that was sweeping the country, but she felt like being daring.

  Glancing at Ryan, Sophie realised he was nervous. Like, really nervous. He was fiddling with his tie and rearranging the cutlery, something he always did when he was on edge. He had done the exact same thing when he had met Sophie’s mother for the first time in Paris a year ago and when Sophie had first taken him to meet Jo and her boyfriend Paddy.

  ‘Are you ok?’ Sophie asked, starting to feel apprehensive again.

  ‘Me?’ Ryan nodded rapidly. ‘Absolutely. I’m ok. Thanks. You?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  Sophie smiled and picked up her menu. The food looked and smelt incredible as it went past in waiters’ hands as they moved discreetly around the dining area. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to eat. She looked over the top of the menu at Ryan and noticed the front of his suit bulging at one side. She said nothing, hiding a grin behind her menu. Jo had specifically asked her to look for the bulge in Ryan’s suit jacket and it was there. Tick.

  ‘I need to talk to you about something,’ Ryan blurted out suddenly.

  ‘Oh?’

  Sophie lowered her menu. Her stomach was fluttering in a strange fashion and her heart was beating extra fast. God, this was it. Ryan was about to propose. This was the big moment.

  As Ryan appeared to be composing himself, Sophie randomly wondered what her mum would think. All of her friends loved Ryan to bits and thought he was the best, but Mariele had been typically reticent. She had liked Ryan when she had met him, but Sophie knew her mother was still absurdly hopeful Sophie might get back together with an old French boyfriend one day. Lord only knew why; he had hardly turned out to be suitable.

  Ryan cleared his throat. ‘Yes. The thing is… God, I really don’t know how to say this.’

  Sophie’s brow furrowed slightly. She had imagined that Ryan being Ryan, he would have the most beautiful little speech prepared and that he would have learnt it off by heart and rehearsed it to within an inch of its life.

  ‘Are you ready to order?’ A waiter smoothly appeared at their table.

  ‘Er… no.’ Ryan shook his head. ‘Could we have a minute please?’

  ‘Of course.’ The waiter withdrew.

  Ryan raked a hand through his hair. ‘God. Shit. I thought we would have dinner first and then… but…’

  ‘So let’s do that,’ Sophie said, picking up her menu again. ‘No hurry.’ She didn’t want Ryan to be stressed out. This should be one of the best moments of their life after all!

  ‘I can’t.’ Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box. He placed it on the table between them.

  Sophie lowered her menu. This wasn’t quite what she had expected, but she was more than happy to go along with it. And unconventional was more her vibe to be fair. Jo always said she was quirky and bohemian like her mum.

  ‘I bought this a while ago,’ Ryan said jerkily. ‘With a view to… you know…’

  Sophie swallowed. The vibe had changed. Oh crap. What was happening?

  ‘But then something happened and I can’t do it.’

  Ryan looked up but seemed unable to look Sophie in the eye. Whatever was over her left shoulder was receiving his full attention. Sophie stomach was now doing horrible cartwheels. Bloody hell. What was Ryan saying? Was he saying… God, the thought was too terrible for words. Had he… met someone else? Sophie felt rather sick.

  ‘I’ve been offered a job in Dubai.’ Ryan finally met Sophie’s eye.

  ‘Ok…’ she said slowly. ‘That’s a good thing, I’m thinking?’

  ‘It is.’ Ryan nodded, but he wasn’t smiling. ‘They want me to head up an area and run this huge team of staff.’

  ‘Awesome!’ Sophie was still baffled. This was exactly what Ryan had always wanted! Why on earth did he look as though he’d been hit by a bus? And why had he placed the little black box containing the engagement ring on the table between them like that, as though it was now sad and redundant, rather than about to be the star player?

  ‘Yes, it’s awesome,’ Ryan agreed, straightening his tie again. ‘Really awesome. Except that it’s only me who can go, not both of us. And it’s for a year.’

  ‘A year?’ Sophie’s buoyant mood plummeted. A year? And only Ryan could go? ‘I could still come, surely? I could… get photography work in Dubai. I’m certain I could and I could pay my way. I stil
l have that huge pay off from that posh wedding I shot in Windsor so I’m…’

  ‘Sophie.’ Ryan interrupted her. ‘I want to go on my own. I mean, I’d love you to come, but there is so much riding on this job. My company have stipulated that I need to knuckle down and focus on the job because if the team they’re putting together doesn’t succeed, the company could fold.’

  Sophie blinked. Was Ryan saying he was choosing his work over her – over them? That he was leaving for a whole year and she had to stay away? She felt more upset about this than about the engagement ring or possible wedding, or lack of.

  ‘Have they… asked you to go alone?’ Sophie said, feeling confused. ‘Have they said I can’t come with you?’

  ‘No.’ Ryan bit his lip. ‘And I know you’re probably going to think I’m being an absolute arse. But I’ve been thinking it over for the past few months and I know that this is for the best.’

  ‘Right.’ Sophie wasn’t sure how to react. But she was fairly sure tears might feature shortly.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Soph,’ Ryan said, reaching across the table to grab her hand. His arm thumped down on the ring box and he winced.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Sophie said slowly, allowing Ryan to take her hand, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted him to. ‘You were going to propose and now you’re not because your work have promoted you. And you’re going to Dubai. On your own. For a year.’

  Ryan looked back at her guiltily. ‘I’m sure you can still visit and all that. I just don’t feel it’s fair to propose and for us to be engaged and thinking about a wedding when I have all this work stuff going on. I want to come back to you in a year’s time with this huge experience under my belt, ready for us. And… with an awful lot of money if it’s not crass to mention that,’ Ryan added awkwardly. ‘I’ll be able to afford the wedding of your dreams by then. And we can buy a proper family house together.’

  Sophie nodded, feeling tearful. Oh man, this was awful. It wasn’t the wedding thing; she hadn’t even been sure about that herself. She knew she would want any wedding of hers to be quirky and different and that she wouldn’t have an alphabetised file or a subscription to Bride Monthly magazine. But… going away for so long and cooling off their relationship like this? Sophie took her hand out of Ryan’s.