Chapter 19
LAILA
As I posed for a selfie in front of the huge glass pyramid at the Louvre, I smiled then blew out a satisfied breath.
I was proud of myself.
Three days ago I’d vowed to only see Gabriel for the scheduled couples activities and I’d done exactly that.
After I’d got back from Montmartre on Monday evening, I’d eaten dinner in my room so avoided having to stare into his ridiculously gorgeous deep brown eyes.
On Tuesday, when I woke up I’d had a long relaxing shower. And even though I didn’t have the photos we’d taken at the I Love You Wall, I’d tried to do the thing that Gabriel said about looking at myself and saying ‘I Love You’.
But when I’d run my hands over the stretch marks on my stomach and thighs, I’d grimaced. I couldn’t do it. I’d quickly wrapped the towel back around myself.
It was easy to tell someone to look at themselves and say nice things when you looked like Gabriel. But for normal people like me with cellulite and flabby bits, it wasn’t so simple.
Although I hadn’t seen him in the buff, I could just tell from his muscular arms and the way his clothes fitted him that Gabriel was in great shape.
If I had a toned body like his, I’d walk around naked all day. But I didn’t, so I’d got dressed, told myself to stop picturing Gabriel in his birthday suit, eaten some fruit that was in my room and headed to the briefing.
Once that was done, we’d gone to Notre-Dame and taken photos of the outside of other famous places like Panthéon and Sainte-Chapelle, then I’d come straight back to the hotel. I’d kept the conversations brief, which admittedly made things a bit awkward, but it was for the best.
Then on Wednesday we’d visited Musée d’Orsay, some key bridges including Pont Alexandre III and then went to Les Invalides – a pretty building with a striking gilded dome and lush, manicured lawn at the front, before returning to the hotel and going to our rooms (separately, of course).
Seeing the sights together was already blurring the boundaries so it was important to keep my distance as soon as those visits were done.
I’d continued to complete the tasks, including the playlist, but it was harder and harder to keep the songs generic when so many illicit emotions were running through my mind – and my body.
Even with keeping the visits and photos ‘professional’, I still enjoyed Gabriel’s company much more than I should. And my attraction to him wasn’t weakening like I’d hoped. Somehow it was just intensifying.
Maybe knowing that he was forbidden made me want him more. Like when you tell yourself you absolutely shouldn’t have the chocolate bar in the cupboard or the tub of ice cream in the freezer, then all you can think about is devouring it.
I knew the smart thing was to return to London, but we still hadn’t seen the Eiffel Tower. Yeah, I could go and see it myself, but the truth was I was loving Paris and I didn’t want to leave yet.
But the longer I stayed, the more guilty I felt about not telling Juliette that I’d been matched with her son.
Luckily on Tuesday she’d messaged me to say she was spending the day with her ‘gentleman friend’ so she suggested that I could call the next day if I liked, which I stupidly agreed to, but in the end I’d chickened out…
Now it was Thursday and this morning, we’d received a message to say that our couples activity wouldn’t be until the evening, so we had the day to spend however we wanted.
Although I could’ve made use of the chauffeur-driven car, I wanted to experience the city like a true Parisian, so after getting directions from the hotel’s receptionist, I headed to the Metro and went on my own little tour of one of my favourite TV shows: Emily in Paris.
I was pretty sure those locations wouldn’t be on the hotel’s scheduled activity list, so there wouldn’t be a conflict.
Armed with a map and my online research, first I went to the fifth arrondissement of Paris to Place de l’Estrapade.
After buying a pain au chocolat from Boulangerie Moderne for breakfast (which was exactly what Emily bought from the same bakery in the first season), I went to see Emily’s apartment building and took photos in front of the fountain in the pretty square (alongside dozens of other tourists who’d had the same idea), then sat on the bench to devour my pastry, which was just as delicious as I’d hoped.
When I passed the Italian restaurant, Terra Nera, which was Emily’s love interest Gabriel’s restaurant (it was called something different in the show though), I couldn’t help taking photos. And as I did, I thought about what a coincidence it was the show’s ‘hero’ had the same name as my match.
See what I mean?
Even though I’d avoided seeing Gabriel outside of the scheduled activities, I still couldn’t stop thinking about him.
I’d wondered what he was doing today and whether he ever thought about me the way my brain seemed to obsess over him.
When I went to Jardin du Palais Royal, which was where Emily first met her best friend Mindy, and I sat on the same bench that they did, which bore the words Aujourd’hui, c’est demain et hier qui s’épousent, I immediately turned to ask Gabriel what it meant.
But of course, he wasn’t there. Because I’d vowed to keep my distance.
I told myself it was fine. I had my phone, so I asked my good friend Google to translate it for me instead. Apparently it meant today is the marriage of tomorrow and yesterday.
See. Problem solved.
Or so I thought.
Although I felt a sense of pride as I wandered down the pretty Parisian streets, because I was here, finally living out my dream of travelling and exploring a city I’d always wanted to visit, I was also overcome with another weird feeling.
At first, I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. But now that I was at the Louvre, another top spot on my Paris bucket list, I had a nagging feeling in my chest that told me that I knew exactly what it was, but just didn’t want to admit it.
I noticed it when I first admired the triangular diamond-shaped glass panels of the pyramid up close and again turned to tell Gabriel that being here reminded me of a scene in another favourite TV show of mine, Lupin, where the main character stages a late-night heist at the museum and there are gorgeous illuminated shots of the Louvre pyramid.
But Gabriel wasn’t there.
And when I saw the queues and wanted to ask if he thought it was worth joining them to go inside, I couldn’t do that either.
The fact was, as crazy as it sounded considering I’d only been in Paris for a few days, I missed exploring the city with him. Like we’d done at the beginning of this trip. Not just because he knew the best places to go or could translate French for me, but because I missed talking to him properly.
Somehow, I missed the way he made me laugh. I hadn’t laughed once today and that felt weird. That alone was odd considering how little I did it in London.
None of this made any sense.
Whether it was raising Ricky, doing the weekly food shop or struggling through the latest challenge that’d been thrown in my path, I was used to doing things by myself.
And even when I was in my late teens and dreamt of going to Paris, I’d always planned to go on a solo trip. So why, now that I was here, did I suddenly feel alone?
I shook my head and told myself to get a grip. I was being stupid.
My stomach rumbled. Clearly it was my hunger that was affecting my thoughts.
It was time for lunch. Once I’d had a delicious savoury crêpe from one of the cafés on my list and a nice glass of French wine, I was sure I’d feel much better.
* * *
‘Did everyone enjoy exploring the city today?’ Claude asked as I took my seat on a daybed at the hotel’s rooftop gardens ready for the evening briefing before tonight’s excursion.
I scanned the seats behind and in front of me. I couldn’t see Gabriel.
My first thought was that maybe he’d left. That he was tired of me pushing him away and he’d gone to find a woman who would be interested in pursuing something with him romantically.
And let’s face it. He wouldn’t be short of offers. He was easy to talk to, kind, caring, considerate, funny and, of course, incredibly sexy.
Gabriel was a catch. If things were different, I’d give my right arm to date someone like him.
But they weren’t.
He was off-limits.
End of story.
Just as my overactive imagination started creating images of him cosying up with some gorgeous, young French supermodel, a delicious scent surrounded me.
I didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.
Every atom in my body came alive.
It might only be my fifth full day at the hotel but I already knew his scent.
‘Salut,’ Gabriel whispered in my ear as he sat down beside me. His warm, sweet breath tickled my ear and goosebumps erupted across my skin. ‘?a va?’
‘I’m good,’ I whispered back, struggling to get the words out. ‘You?’
‘Bien,’ he replied softly.
I turned my head to look at him and my breath caught in my throat.
Jesus.
It’d only been twenty-four hours since I’d last seen him, yet somehow, I’d forgotten just how incredible he looked.
We’d been told that the dress code was ‘modern smart’, so it might have something to do with the fact that he was wearing a smart pair of trousers and a crisp white shirt which of course had its sleeves rolled up.
At this point I was convinced he did that on purpose because he knew his forearms were my weakness.
And I kind of loved how he was wearing trainers with his trousers. Well, I called them trainers, but they weren’t like the scuffed ones Ricky insisted on wearing. These were smart and brilliant white and looked fresh out of the box.
I swallowed hard then quickly turned to face the front and attempted to focus on what Claude was saying.
He reminded us to collect our printed photos from reception every morning for our passports and said that the Love Alchemists had brought up the envelopes for people who hadn’t already picked theirs up.
I’d forgotten to do that this week, so I needed to remember to get them at the end of the briefing. Not that I wanted to.
Gabriel had taken all of the photos on his phone. He’d held on to the portraits too, which in my haste to leave I’d forgotten about until now. I hated that he probably had dozens of shitty pictures of me but there was nothing I could do about it.
Once Claude finished talking, our phones pinged with the clue.
I looked at the screen.
This flows beneath thirty-seven bridges including Pont Neuf, Pont Alexandre III and Pont des Arts.
‘That’s easy!’ called out one of the guests.
‘I am glad you know the answer, but please do not say it out loud,’ Claude smiled.
‘Discuss it with your match, reply to the message as usual, then go to reception. Tonight, because everyone needs to arrive and depart from the location at the same time, we will be travelling in one vehicle together.’
Oh, thank God.
That meant I wouldn’t be alone with Gabriel.
‘Do you know the answer?’ Gabriel asked.
‘Think so.’ I typed River Seine into my phone and showed him the screen. He nodded.
‘You send the reply then we can go.’
‘Done!’ I tapped the screen. ‘We need to go and collect our photos first though.’
‘I picked them all up this morning,’ Gabriel replied. ‘Sammie offered to carry them and said that she will give them to us to look over together at dinner.’
‘Oh.’ My eyes widened.
‘Come.’ He gestured for me to follow him to the lift. Thankfully another couple were heading towards it too which meant we wouldn’t be alone.
Once we all got to reception, we were directed to a luxury, shiny black coach. The word ‘coach’ didn’t quite convey how high-end it was. It had plush leather seats with loads of legroom, polished wooden floors and tinted windows. I should’ve known the Love Hotel would pull out all the stops.
‘After you.’ Gabriel gestured for me to take the window seat.
‘Merci,’ I said. ‘So my guess is we’re going on a cruise.’
‘Oui. I am sure it will include dinner too,’ Gabriel added.
‘Amazing!’
On the one hand it was. I’d always wanted to do a river cruise and having dinner whilst taking in the sights of Paris sounded like a dream. But how was I going to keep my cool on a romantic cruise with temptation sitting right in front of me?