Chapter 3
3
‘I’ll keep trying to find somewhere else to stay.’
Ethan’s promise echoed in my ears as I walked alone along the Seine. After he’d dropped the bombshell reminder that the city was full to the brim for one of its biggest events of the year, I had told him I needed some air and left the apartment abruptly. He had been on his phone attempting to find another place to stay, but it was looking like a fruitless search. And I had no idea what to do about it. It had taken a lot to get me on that Eurostar and now I might have to just go back to London again. Or face living in a one-bed apartment for five nights with someone who hadn’t even wanted to meet me a few months ago. Not only that, but who was best friends with the man who had betrayed me.
Does the universe actually hate me?
I spotted a crepe stand and knew if anything might help me feel a bit better, it was that.
‘Bonjour.’ I greeted the seller and made my order in English because I hadn’t spoken any French since school. As I watched him make my crepe with speed and skill, the smell made my stomach rumble. He handed it to me in a wrapping and I carried on walking beside the river, moaning as the first taste hit.
As I ate and strolled, I thought about how this trip had started in the worst possible way. I blamed Joe. How could he have just invited his friend here when I was the one who’d booked and paid for the apartment? Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Selfish was Joe’s middle name. I sighed. I hated how he had made me feel so cynical about men and love. I never used to be. I had been hopeful before him.
Joe and I had met in June. It had been the start of summer in London and I had decided to write outside. I was in Hyde Park on a blanket with my notebook and a Marks there are no rules.’ I took off my jacket and boots and dropped my bag on the sofa then I went to sit on the small dining table by the kitchen as Ethan carried over the food.
‘Wine?’
‘After today? Hell, yes.’
Ethan chuckled then handed me a bowl of soup with a side plate of crusty bread, and poured us both a glass of red wine.
My eyes narrowed. ‘Are you trying to butter me up?’ I enquired as he sat down opposite me.
‘Kind of,’ he admitted. ‘I couldn’t find any paid accommodation as everywhere is booked up for Fashion Week.’
I sighed. ‘As soon as you mentioned it, I remembered. I only managed to get this place because someone dropped out at the last minute. I had forgotten… A lot on my mind, you could say.’
Understatement of the century.
Ethan nodded. ‘I have friends who live in Paris but they’ve all gone away to Juliette’s family’s country estate. I was planning to stay with them for the rest of my course once this apartment is up. They’ll be back soon. You can’t get them to confirm anything,’ he said with a fond shrug like this was a cute quirk of theirs. ‘But as soon as they do, I can stay with one of them.’
As I mulled this over, I put my spoon into the bowl and tried the soup. ‘Oh.’ It was so good. He’d even topped it with cheese. ‘Wow.’
Ethan smiled as he sipped his wine. ‘It’s okay? ’
I nodded as I dipped in some of the crusty bread. ‘Just what I needed.’
I glanced around the apartment. It really was beautiful. I didn’t particularly want to go back to my tiny London flat that didn’t feel quite feel like home just yet. Or face the music with my publisher. But what was the alternative with Ethan unable to stay anywhere else for now? ‘I suppose I better book the next Eurostar train I can then.’
‘But we might only have to be here together for a couple of days,’ Ethan said. He saw my face. ‘It’s okay, I’ll go home.’
‘You said you were here for a cookery course?’ I asked.
‘Yeah. It’s for two weeks with a renowned chef. It was an honour to get on it. My boss called in a favour. It’s my chance to take on more responsibility at work. I’m currently the sous chef, I’m not sure if you know, and the restaurant is attempting to get a Michelin star, and if I could create the perfect sauce for my boss’s venison then maybe, just maybe…’ Ethan abruptly stopped. ‘I’m talking too much.’
I couldn’t help but smile. ‘I don’t mind; I’m always being told the same so it’s refreshing for someone else to be doing it instead. This course sounds important.’ I felt like I couldn’t stand in the way of him doing this course. I sighed. ‘I was going to work here too. I have a new novel to write and, well, let’s just say the deadline is tight.’
‘Well, then, you shouldn’t go,’ Ethan said firmly. ‘As I said, I won’t have to stay for your whole trip; we will be fine.’
My eyes met his across the table. ‘We will?’
‘Sure. I’m doing this course, you’re writing, and it’s Paris; we’ll hardly see each other. We can share the apartment until my friends come home.’ He gave me a hopeful smile.
‘But…’ I felt my cheeks heat up. ‘There’s only one bed.’
Ethan frowned for a moment. ‘Oh, yeah, I forgot… I can take th e sofa.’ We both looked at it. It was small, a two-seater at best. Ethan was the same height as me but I could tell it wouldn’t be comfortable. ‘It’s fine. You can have the bedroom. I’ll move all my things out.’
‘You’d really do that?’ My head was spinning. He was being very accommodating to someone who was his best friend’s ex.
‘It’s not a problem, Tessa. I can handle sleeping on a sofa for a couple of nights. This course is more than worth it. And then we both get to stay in Paris. And work.’
‘Work,’ I agreed, even though I had no idea if I’d be able to or not. ‘I suppose we won’t have to see each other much,’ I said slowly. I knew based on what Joe had told me that Ethan would prefer me to stay out of his way, and I could do that. ‘I mean, we definitely won’t,’ I added, more firmly. I wanted to make sure he knew I wouldn’t be hanging around him.
‘Oh yeah, of course,’ Ethan said, his voice tight. ‘I’ll stay out of your way, I promise.’
‘It would help me to be here,’ I admitted. I didn’t want to share that but the thought of going home was worse than staying here with him.
‘Then it’s sorted,’ Ethan said. ‘Yeah?’
This had the potential to be really awkward. Sharing a one-bedroom apartment with Ethan for who knew how long? But then I looked out of the window again and at the Parisian skyline, darkening and the stars beginning to shine. Things already felt more manageable being here away from London and its memories and the humiliation and the hurt, and the stress of my deadline. Yes, I was here with someone connected to my ex and who didn’t want to be with me, but I really didn’t want to let Joe win. I needed to write a book again. I needed to believe in love. I needed to love happy ever afters. And so, I needed Paris.
I could put up with Ethan being here too .
Plus the man could really cook.
‘Okay,’ I said.
Ethan’s face relaxed in relief.
‘I might need more of this,’ I joked, gesturing to the soup.
‘I’m glad you like it.’
I remembered then what he’d said when I had walked in. ‘What did you mean before about me not liking fancy food?’
‘Well,’ Ethan began, shifting awkwardly in this chair, ‘Joe did mention that the reason you both never came to my restaurant in London was because you didn’t like the quote “pretentious” food we served there.’
My mouth fell open as Ethan’s phone started to ring. He excused himself to answer it and I watched him go, wondering why my ex had said that because that was definitely not my view at all. It appeared Joe had lied about a lot of things while I was with him.
Before I could wonder why he’d tell Ethan such a thing, my phone beeped with a reminder and I hurriedly got up from the table because it was time to watch the Eiffel Tower sparkle for the first time. I rushed out onto the balcony and looked over to see the lights twinkling ahead. I smiled as it glittered. It seemed to say that even when things are dark, there will always be a light to guide the way.
And the tiniest tint of rose re-appeared on my imaginary glasses.