“Don’t you mean merci?You do know some French, right?”Suzy asks in her dry, teasing tone.
I flash her a confident smile.“Je parle un peu français.I took four years of it in college.I was good at it.Not fluent by any means, but I could hold a conversation pretty well.”
“Sweetie, that was eight years ago,” Gretchen kindly reminds me, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
Eight years ago—the thought gnaws at my insides.It’s been eight years since college.Two back-to-back corporate jobs devoured my free time in the name of security and money, only for it all to unravel.
Nope, I’m not going to think about that now.
“I hope you’ve managed to stash a bit more French in your brain since then,” Suzy adds.
With a playful smirk, I quip, “J’adore—” The French word for wine evades my memory.
My friends patiently wait for me to get it.
“Ah yes, j’adore le vin rouge.See?It will come back to me.”
“Slowly.”Suzy chuckles.
“Wow, I’m leaving for Paris in seventy-two hours!”I exclaim.“And I still need to pack.I have no idea what I’m getting myself into, do I?”
“Girl, please tell me you have your passport, right?”Gretchen asks, leaning in.
“Yes, Mother.”I giggle.“I know this is last minute, but I’m not one-hundred percent unprepared.I always keep my passport up to date—you know—just in case.But the real question we need to be asking is, what the hell am I going to pack?”
“Oh-oh!”Gretchen taps her hand excitedly against the table.“You have to take my red long-sleeved dress—the one you gushed about last Christmas!I’ll drop it off first thing tomorrow morning.Trust me, you’ll look stunning in it.And who knows?Maybe you’ll even catch the eye of a hot Frenchman while you’re at it.”She suggestively wags her eyebrows at me.
“Maybe,” I say, my cheeks warming at the idea.
Gretchen tilts her head to the side.“See, sometimes the universe knows what it’s doing.I know things were gloom and doom this morning, but heck, Jem, look at you now.You’re going to Paris.You wouldn’t have taken this leap if you hadn’t been fired this morning.You’d still be saying someday.But that someday is in three days.”
I tuck a loose strand of my braid behind my ear.“I suppose you’re right.Sure, I still need to do some major job hunting while I’m away, but I should take this time to enjoy myself too.Right?”
“Exactly!I was expecting a sulking fest tonight, but look at us—we’re here to celebrate!”Gretchen smiles and slides out of the booth.
Suzy follows.
“Let’s make tonight unforgettable, shall we?”Gretchen lends me a hand and tugs me toward the dance floor.
“Let’s,” I respond, ready to embrace my new adventure—or should I say, Je suis prête à embrasser ma nouvelle aventure.
ChapterFive
JEMMA
Thursday evening creeps up faster than I expected.I double and triple-check my quick packing job, ensuring I’ve got all my essentials: my passport, a few carefully chosen outfits that I can mix and match to save space, and, of course, Gretchen’s red dress that I can’t wait to wear.She was right; it does look great on me.
Look out, Paris, here I come!
Gretchen pulls up outside my apartment in Suzy’s little blue Volkswagen Bug.Its paint is slightly more rusted than I remember, but it has a lot of character, just like Suzy.Gretchen’s ride isn’t much nicer—just less rust and barely hanging on for dear life.But really, who needs a car in the city?Public transportation works just fine.Well, except when you’re hauling a bunch of luggage to the airport, and you want your best friend by your side until the very last minute, so you don’t chicken out.Or maybe that’s just me.
“Where’s Suzy?”I ask, shoving my suitcase and carry-on into the tiny back seat.“I thought maybe she’d come keep you company for the late drive home.”
“Nah, work emergency.A crazy huge order was placed last minute for an early pickup tomorrow, and the staff couldn’t handle it.So, Suzy to the rescue, as usual.”Gretchen tosses her hand in the air as she checks her mirror, pulling into traffic.
Suzy is a pastry chef at one of the cutest little bakeries down the street from Whimsies.Just thinking of the place makes my mouth water.But then I quickly remember that in less than a day I’ll be in a city known for having some of the best pastries in the world.I close my eyes, envisioning myself biting into a buttery croissant, the flaky layers melting in my mouth.I’m lost in buttery bliss, when suddenly my body pitches forward as Gretchen slams on the brakes, yanking me away from my delicious daydream.
My eyes whip open to a gridlocked expressway.
