Chapter 4 Bucket List
Bucket List
Embracing Adventure
I smile nervously as I walk up to the handsome driver. “Hi, I’m her.” Realizing how awkward that sounds, I blush and point to the sign, “I mean to say…I’m Sophie Lane.”
“Then I am your driver for the day, mademoiselle.”
When he smiles, I notice a ragged scar on his right cheek.
“Where would you like me to take you today?”
Trying hard not to stare at the scar and make him uncomfortable, I laugh self-consciously and stare at his black tie instead. “Um…I’m not really sure.”
I hear Michelle call my name behind me and turn to see her stepping out of the elevator. “Are you coming with us, Sophie?”
I shrug. “Where are you headed?”
“The girls are going in one car. We plan to have breakfast next to the Eiffel Tower and then shop afterward.”
I shudder at the thought of shopping. It’s one of my least favorite pastimes. I wonder if Miss Diaz, the lone wolf of our group, is joining them on their outing. “Is Diaz going with you, too?”
Michelle shakes her head and laughs. “No, she’s already left. You know how she is…”
I nod, respecting Diaz’s choice. “I appreciate the invite, but I think I’ll strike out on my own.”
She sighs heavily. “You sure? It won’t be the same without you.”
Feeling bad I’ve disappointed her, I explain, “I saw the park across the street and want to check it out. This is my first time traveling outside the States, and I really want to experience life as a local here.”
“Okay…” she says, looking at me strangely. “But a park sounds incredibly boring when you’re in Paris—of all places! When are you ever going to have a chance to see the Eiffel Tower up close again?”
“Take plenty of pictures for me?”
“Oh, I will!” she assures me.
I glance at the elevator anxiously, hoping to get out of here before anyone else shows up and I cave under peer pressure.
Turning to my driver, I inform him, “I’m going to visit the park across the street.”
He nods. “I’m happy to escort you.”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary.”
“But it is, mademoiselle. You are my charge for the day.”
The way he says it in his alluring French accent makes me swoon a little. “Is it that you’re afraid I might bolt and disappear?”
He grins. “I have sworn to get you back to the hotel in plenty of time for the auction.”
My eyes widen, and I immediately lower my voice. “You know about the auction?”
He gives me a solemn nod.
The man has my curiosity piqued. Is my driver simply a hired man following orders? Or…is he part of the kink community in Paris? I’m intrigued by the idea, but I’m too chicken to ask him and say instead, “What’s your name?”
I notice a slight smirk when he answers, “That’s not important, mademoiselle.”
The mystery behind his answer has me even more curious.
I glance nervously at the elevator again when I hear the bell announcing its arrival. Wanting to avoid being convinced to join them, I head out the hotel entrance with my driver following several feet behind me.
It feels like I have my own personal bodyguard.
I wait at the corner of the busy street for several minutes, marveling at the fact I’m actually in Paris, France!
Heading straight to the beautiful fountain I saw from my hotel window, I find myself in the center of the park. Although the fountain isn’t running because of the cold temperatures, I’m captivated by its beauty.
Walking around the empty marble pool, I marvel at the time and skill that went into creating the two-tiered sculpture with numerous lions’ heads from which the fountain water would flow.
I notice an old woman alone on a bench to the left of me, quietly feeding the pigeons. Not wanting to disturb the birds, I leave a wide berth as I continue walking through the park under the cool winter sun.
Everything about Paris feels different from the loud, familiar streets of New York.
Even though Paris is a bustling city, it holds a timeless beauty.
And as I look at the old stone buildings and the various statues scattered throughout the park, I’m reminded of the past in an ever-changing modern world.
Making a leisurely circle around the park, I arrive back at the fountain and find the woman still there. She looks up and notices me staring.
When I see her frown, I prepare to leave. But she surprises me by holding up the paper bag toward me. Not wanting to offend her, I walk up to take a small handful of seeds and nod to her in thanks.
When she mutters something in French, I stare at her blankly, feeling foolish. She makes the gesture of tossing seeds and I chuckle in understanding. With an overabundance of enthusiasm, I toss the seed upward and cry out in fear as the pigeons swarm around me.
The woman covers her mouth and laughs.
Blushing profusely, I laugh with her as I watch the flying birds settle back down and start hungrily pecking at the seeds. The old woman motions for me to join her on the bench, and the two of us sit in pleasant silence as we feed them.
This is exactly what I was hoping for!
I want to have a genuine connection with people and create memories that will last me a lifetime. This is way better than rushing around monuments with crowds of fellow tourists or staring at overpriced items in shop windows.
When I get up to leave, she states in a gruff voice, “J’ai été ravie de faire ta connaissance.”
Although I don’t understand her words, the kindness in the woman’s eyes touches me. “I’ve enjoyed feeding the birds with you today. Thank you.”
As I head out of the park, my driver keeps a discreet distance between us. While waiting for the cars to pass as I stand at the street corner, I’m hit with an idea and turn to speak to him.
“There is one bucket list item I have.”
“Tell me.”
“I would love to enjoy a simple Parisian breakfast at a local café.”
“I know the perfect place, mademoiselle.”
“Wonderful!”
He escorts me down a row of black vehicles and stops at the last one, which happens to be a small convertible. Opening the passenger door for me, he waits for me to get in.
I hold my breath, afraid I might not fit into such a snug vehicle but, to my relief, there’s plenty of leg room and the seat cradles my body comfortably.
After helping me with the seatbelt, I watch as he walks to the driver’s side and asks, “Would you like me to put the top up?”
“Please don’t,” I answer, tightening my ponytail in anticipation of the ride.
And then we’re off.
With the vehicle sitting so low to the ground and the top down, it’s a completely new driving experience.
I feel like I’m part of the changing scenery rather than being separate from it.
I can even smell food wafting in the air from cafés and hear the chatter of shopkeepers on the sidewalk as we drive past.
During the drive, he points out different historic landmarks and shares fascinating stories about each one. With the top down, I’m able to easily take pictures without having to stop.
When we arrive at a small café situated down an alley off the beaten path, I immediately notice there aren’t any tourists. When my driver opens the door for me, the staff instantly greets him and nods to me.
“What would you like?” he asks.
As I stare at the glass case of delectable pastries, my gaze lands on the flakiest croissant I’ve ever seen. I grin and point to it.
“And what would you like to drink, mademoiselle?”
“Whatever you suggest.”
“A café au lait it is, then.” He motions to the empty table next to the window. I go to sit down and gleefully listen to the animated banter in the café. The small place must be a local favorite based on how full it is and the fact that everyone seems to know each other.
My driver soon returns with my croissant and a coffee in a large, bowl-sized cup. When he turns to leave, I call him back. “Aren’t you going to sit with me?”
He answers with a half-smile. “I’m fine with standing outside.”
I pull out the chair beside me. “Please, sit.”
When he sits down, I take out my wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing,” he insists.
I’m touched by his unexpected generosity. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure, mademoiselle.”
Looking at my literal “bowl” of coffee, I ask him, “Is it normally served this way?”
He nods toward a man on the other side of the café. Sure enough, I watch as the gentleman breaks off a piece of his bread and dunks it into his coffee before eating it.
I follow his example, breaking off the end of the croissant and dipping it briefly into my frothy drink. Popping it into my mouth, I moan softly in appreciation.
“Good, oui?” he says with a pleased smile.
“Oui,” I agree. The rich coffee adds a caramel-like note to the flaky croissant. This simple breakfast is everything I hoped for!
I take my time, enjoying every bite as I watch the locals strolling outside the shop and listen to the lively chatter of the cafe.
How amazing would it be to come here every morning to start my day?
Once I’m finished, he collects the plates and hands them to the shop owner before asking me, “Where else would you like to go, mademoiselle?”
Taking a quick peek at my phone to see how long before the auction starts, I’m surprised to see there’s still plenty of time. I shrug, telling him, “To be honest, I’ve done everything I wanted to.”
As he escorts me out of the café, he informs me, “I chose this particular café for a reason.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes,” he states, charming me with his smile. “There is a museum not far from here that I am certain you will enjoy.”
Ten minutes later, we pull up to a huge silver building that looks like a piece of art all on its own.
“The Cité de la Musique,” he states proudly.
I tilt my head, thinking I recognized a word. “Did you say music?”
“I did,” he smiles. “You are a pianist, are you not?”
“How did you know?”
“I was briefed on my charge.”
After hearing that, it leaves me wondering what else he might know about me…
“Although it would take days to go through the entire museum, there is ample time to visit a particular section, and I trust you will enjoy it.”
I follow him inside the beautiful museum, giddy with excitement. He escorts me to an area devoted entirely to pianos. The incredible selection highlights the evolution of the instrument and showcases pianos throughout history—starting from the 17th century to the present.
To see each one in physical form and examine how the piano has changed over time is magical for me. But the icing on the cake is learning more about Marguerite Marie-Charlotte Long, the famous female pianist of France and highly respected pedagogue. It strikes a deep chord inside me.
While looking at Chopin’s piano, I hear the melody of his concerto “Grande valse brillante in E-flat major, op. 18” playing in my head. The melody transports me back to when I was just a child…I’m dancing for my father as he cheers me on, and I can hear his voice as clear as day.
“Don’t ever stop dancing, Sophie girl…”
I’m startled back to reality when my escort touches my shoulder. “Excuse me, mademoiselle. It’s time we left.”
Embarrassed, I quickly wipe away a tear from my eye and nod. “Of course.”
I walk behind him but look back at the piano one last time. I can still feel my father’s presence with me, and it fills me with a sense of peace.
On the drive back, I’m overwhelmed with gratefulness and gush, “Thank you for taking me here. It was the perfect spot in Paris.”
He nods and casually mentions, “I’m taking a different route back to the hotel. There is a viewpoint I think you’ll appreciate.”
“I look forward to it!”
He drives to a park situated on a hilltop.
There, I have a clear view of the Eiffel Tower off in the distance.
He opens my car door so I can get out and take a picture.
I take several shots with my phone and happen to catch the moment when the winter clouds part briefly and a ray of sunlight shines down on the tower.
I gasp in delight, taking several more photos before lowering my phone to appreciate this moment.
As suddenly as it appeared…it’s gone.
I return to the car, exclaiming, “I can’t believe that just happened!”
He smirks. “I have some pull with the man upstairs.”
On the drive back, I glance at the time.
“Wow! I can’t believe everything we were able to fit into such a short amount of time.
Not only did you check off my bucket list item of a perfect Parisian breakfast, you added one I didn’t even know existed with the music museum.
And I even got the perfect shot of the Eiffel Tower. ”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,”
While he parks the vehicle, I search through my purse and ask, “Can I tip you?”
He opens my door and answers, “It would be an insult,” as he helps me out of the vehicle and escorts me to the hotel entrance.
“Enjoy the auction, Miss Lane.”
I sigh nervously, realizing that my whirlwind day has only just begun.
“I’ll never forget your kindness…” Not knowing his name, I simply address him as “Monsieur.”
I notice a gleam in his eye, when he says, “Au revoir.”
Turning to enter the hotel, I am surprised when he follows behind me inside, and I can’t help teasing him, “Don’t trust me to walk into the hotel by myself, huh?”
“I was charged to bring you back to the hotel.” He adds in a strict tone, “And I am thorough in everything I do.”
My stomach does a little flip-flop. Now I’m certain he’s a Dom…
Pushing the button to my floor, he stands back as I get into the elevator.
“Thanks again for the perfect day,” I call out to him.
“It has only just begun,” he replies with a mischievous smile as the doors close.