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“Moules frites. I already saw it on the menu, and that’s my favorite thing to order in France. I figure I’ll see how they compare to the authentic version.”
He smirks. “Huh.” When the server comes back for our food order, he says, “I’d like the moules frites, please.”
I order mine, and after she leaves, I ask, “Why did you get the same thing?”
“It’s one of my favorite things when I go to Cannes. There’s this great place there, Astoux et Brun, and they’re known for their langoustines, but I still prefer the moules frites.”
“I haven’t been to Cannes, but the beaches in Marseille are to die for.”
He nods enthusiastically. “I am partial to L’atelier des,
“Goudes?”
He laughs. “Yes! You, too?”
“Oh my god, it’s the best hotel in Marseille. Yes! I mean, it’s pretty far out of the way, but that’s a selling point to me. How did you find it?”
“I had gone to Marseille with a woman I was seeing, and after she ditched me to go shopping, I rented a Vespa and went riding around the city. I ended up there and fell in love with the place. It’s so much simpler and calmer at that end of the city—no influencers mad that you got in the way of their pictures.”
I laugh and nod. “That end of the city has a totally different feel to it. You’re right. And I’ve seen no one there for clout or whatever. It’s just people who want a quiet holiday. Have you walked along the creeks—
“Yes. And I tried to get her to come with me, but she looked at me like I had two heads when I suggested it.”
“Poor baby.”
He laughs. “I’m whining about not getting a model to go on a nature hike along one of the world’s prettiest places. I don’t think that qualifies me for sympathy.”
The food comes, and it looks and smells like Heaven. But I’m kinda hung up on this little detail. “You dated a model?”
“Yes, I’ve dated a few.”
Weird to think about whether I stack up next to models. But we’re not dating. So, I shouldn’t care. Right? I dig into the food, and it’s fantastic. “This is just as good as anything I’ve had in France. Maybe better.”
He nods. “I thought you’d like this place.”
“So, as far as work goes, you were happy with the augmented reality visualization of the site?”
“Yes. It’s really coming along. I know it’s premature, but I am already looking forward to hosting a New Year’s party at the resort.”
“Why New Year’s?”
“It’s my favorite holiday. The air is full of possibilities. There’s excitement and fireworks. It’s the chance to start fresh. Like the world wipes the slate clean at midnight.”
I smile and gobble another garlicky mussel. “A clean slate is why I moved to Manhattan in the first place. I get why you’d like that. My holiday is Arbor Day.”
He laughs. “That is no one’s favorite holiday.”
“Well, think about it. Almost every country in the world has their own version of a tree planting holiday, from Niger to Australia, Canada to Sri Lanka. The dates fall differently everywhere, but people across the world recognize how valuable trees are to everyone, and we planted them out of a love of nature.” I shrug and smile. “I think there is something beautiful about that. Plus, it’s hard to build buildings without lumber.”
He laughs again. “That’s the real reason you love that holiday, isn’t it? You and your buildings.”
I grin. “I am what I am.”
We finish supper, and afterwards, he asks, “What would you think about coming back to my place?”
“Your fortress of solitude? Sure.”
He chuckles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
