At least the shop attendant wrapped the tree in netting, making it a bit easierfor Luca to transport.
“The things I do for you,” Luca says with a twisted grin as he wrangles our perfect Christmas tree through the sliding doors.
With a few quick shuffles, the crowd parts just enough to give us a sliver of space to the right of the doors.
“It’s just three stops,” Luca keeps repeating under his breath.“Just three stops.”
I yank my scarf up over my mouth, stifling a laugh that’s bubbled up.Watching Luca with his arms wrapped around our gigantic tree is downright hilarious.This is something I’ll never forget.
We jostle with the car as a panorama of blurry, fast-moving tunnels flash by, and before we know it, an announcement signals our stop.Luca lets out a loud sigh of relief.
“That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”I joke.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Luca playfully responds.
A wave of gasps echo through the people behind us as we exit the train car.On the platform, Luca hoists the tree over his shoulder and carries it up the steps and the rest of the way to his apartment.
I follow closely behind, snapping photos of our adventure along the way and sending them off to Gretchen.
Jemma: I think I’ve found THE ONE!
Gretchen: The tree or the man?
Jemma: Both!
Gretchen: First, cookies and now this.Jemma Jones is back!
Jemma: I don’t want to leave!I’m falling hard for Luca!
Gretchen: Just enjoy your time together.Everything will fall into place.
Gretchen: Trust me!
ChapterTwenty-Seven
JEMMA
Once again, I’m in spiky heels standing on a cobblestone sidewalk.But this time, it’s completely warranted.Gretchen’s Christmas-red A-line dress demands the perfect footwear.It would be a crime to pair it with anything less than the perfect shoe.
I feel amazing in this dress.I love the way the lace bodice hugs my figure, while the tulle skirt billows around me.I can’t help but feel like a princess, and I have my Prince Charming linked around my arm to prove it.
But not even the confidence this dress is feeding me could prepare me for the building I’m staring at.
“Is this your boss’s home?”I ask, my eyes traveling upward, feeling small and insignificant, yet completely enamored by the sight.I’ve seen some stunning buildings in Paris, but this one takes the whole darn cake.
The creamy stone structure appears to be a recently renovated Haussmann-style building tucked near the edge of the seventh.The second floor is elegantly defined by one long continuous terrace, while the next two levels showcase charming wrought-iron Juliet balconies with intricate designs.But the true gem is the top floor with its expansive wrap-around balcony that follows the curve of the building, beneath a mansard roof with dormer windows breaking through the steep slopes.I could stare at this building for hours.It’s architecture porn.
“His is the top floor in case you were wondering.”Luca leans in, whispering in my ear.
My jaw drops.“The entire floor?”I stammer, counting the number of windows that make up his boss’s home.
Nine.There are nine street-facing windows.Luca has four, and I thought his place was large for Paris.
“Maybe now would be a good time to tell me more about your job.”
Luca chuckles as a doorman drags a towering glass entryway door back for us.Which is clearly not the original, I might add.
“Bonsoir, Monsieur Debois.”The man nods to Luca as we pass.
