Chapter 4
4
‘It’s something, huh?’
I turned in surprise to see Ethan leaning against the frame of the balcony doors. ‘I’ve never been to Paris before so I’ve only seen it on social media,’ I said, looking away from him and back at the sparkling tower. ‘It’s what I was most looking forward to coming here.’ I didn’t add that I’d been hoping Joe and I would be drinking wine on this very balcony watching it together, and enjoying the romance of it all.
‘I’m glad you didn’t leave before you got to see it,’ he said.
The lights stopped so I faced Ethan again. ‘Me too.’
‘Sorry Joe didn’t check with you before offering to let me stay here. Send me your details and I’ll transfer you the money; I can’t let you pay for all this.’
‘I can’t let you pay for it all either,’ I countered. ‘Especially if you’re sleeping on the sofa and leaving… soon.’
Ethan tilted his head, that amusement in his eyes again. ‘Half each then?’ He saw me hesitate. ‘I insist.’
Finally, I nodded. ‘Thank you. I guess you’re not all bad,’ I added with a smile. I walked past him hoping he got my sense of humour, knowing not everyone did. Particularly my ex.
He chuckled. ‘Sounds like your standards have been pretty low if that renews your hope in the male species.’
I turned and raised an eyebrow and we looked at one another. Does he realise he’s basically calling his best friend a low standard?
‘You’re not wrong,’ I replied. Ethan looked like he wanted to say something, but I shook my head. ‘I’m tired. I think I’ll head to bed.’
‘Sure. I moved my things out so the bedroom is all yours. I… I hope you sleep well. And thanks again for letting me stay here for a bit.’
‘Goodnight.’ I headed off to the bedroom, wondering how much Ethan knew about what had happened between me and Joe. I was worried after hearing how Joe had told Ethan I hadn’t wanted to eat at his restaurant. What else had he told Ethan about me? But I knew it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like I cared what Ethan thought about me, or that he would be at all part of my life after this trip. I just didn’t like Joe having control of our story. It felt like our six months together had been a trick pulled off by a skilled magician and I no longer wanted any part of it.
I changed into pyjamas and slipped into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I heard Ethan on the phone and wondered who he was laughing with. Whether it was Joe or not. Joe had been so closed off about his friends and family, holding secrets close to his chest, making me believe he was mysterious and deep, when I now knew it was to keep me in the dark about his other woman.
With a heavy sigh, I closed the bedroom door and sunk into the large bed, snuggling into the crisp white sheets, feeling like I was lying on a cloud. Rolling onto my back, I listened to Ethan’s low voice for a bit before it all went quiet and the apartment turned dark. It felt strangely intimate sleeping in the same small space as someone despite the fact a closed door was between us. I thought it might keep me awake as my brain loved to overthink, but weary from the stress of the past two months and travelling today, I slipped quickly into a deep sleep.
I awoke suddenly and groggily to my phone ringing on the bedside table. I rolled over in the bed, taking a moment to remember I wasn’t in my London flat but a Parisian apartment. I had slept more soundly than I had in weeks, which was very strange but I was grateful for it. Everything always seemed worse when you added in lack of sleep to the equation. I grabbed my phone without looking at the screen. ‘Hello?’
‘Tessa, it’s Stevie!’
I sat up immediately. I should have checked who it was before answering. I metaphorically kicked myself. ‘Oh, hi,’ I said trying to sound normal as my heart started to speed up. Stevie was my publicist at Turn the Pages.
‘How are you?’ Stevie asked me.
‘Um, I’m okay. Actually, I’m in Paris.’
‘Paris! I’m so jealous. A romantic trip with your boyfriend?’
I cringed. I hadn’t told many people about what had happened with Joe and I hadn’t spoken to Stevie since before Christmas. ‘Actually, no, a solo trip. To do some writing.’
‘Oh, what a great idea! I know Gita is dying to find out what you’re writing. Well, we all are. You know what a fan of your books I am.’
Stevie was a sweetheart. She loved romance books and had spearheaded a whole new imprint at the publishing company for love stories, and had been a huge part of my last book becoming a bestseller.
Guilt washed over me. ‘Thank you,’ I managed to choke out.
‘I wanted to speak to you about the book tour. I have arranged five stops all around the UK so far for publication week in the autumn,’ she carried on merrily. She was arranging a book tour for a book I hadn’t even started yet! I listened, my stomach tying itself in knots. ‘So, does that sound okay with you?’
‘Well, actually…’
‘Oh, Gita wants a word, hang on. Enjoy Paris!’
Before I could stop her, Stevie faded away, there was a click and then my editor’s voice came down the line. ‘Tessa, are you avoiding me?’ She laughed as if that couldn’t be at all possible. Gita had taken me on for my debut novel at another publishers and when my contract was finished there, had poached me for Turn the Pages once the company started doing so well with romance books. They published my hero Deborah Day, and my last book had sold so well that it had looked like things were going to go from strength to strength.
Until I lost the ability to write.
‘Of course not,’ I said, my voice high-pitched.
‘I know what you’re writing will be brilliant but I do need just a small synopsis so we can make a start on the cover design, and get a pre-order up for your fans, you know?’ Gita said. ‘Can you please email me something?’
‘Sure,’ I said, my stomach tightening. ‘It’s set in Paris,’ I blurted out. ‘I’m here on a research trip.’
‘Oh, perfect! I love Paris, and books set there are always so romantic. I knew you were working on something special. I won’t disturb you any more. I’m so excited to read it.’
I felt sick. ‘Great,’ I said, sounding so unenthusiastic I was sure she’d be able to tell .
‘Right, I’ll let you go and be inspired by Paris! Take care!’
Thankfully, Gita hung up. I threw my phone down onto the bed and shook my head. I had never had to bullshit my editor like that before. I usually handed in books early. But there were just three weeks to go until this was due, and she had no idea I hadn’t written one word of it. Setting it in Paris wasn’t a bad idea though. I could use this as a research trip. Maybe I could even write the expense off for tax. Only if I was able to come up with an idea while I was here though. Gita was expecting some sort of synopsis but my mind was a blank.
I reached for my phone to call Carly but she didn’t answer. I hoped she’d call me back soon as I was desperately in need of best-friend guidance. I climbed out of bed, knowing I needed to start my day. I was determined, as well, to look somewhat more presentable than I had yesterday in case Ethan was going to report back on our time here to Joe.
Creeping out of the bedroom, I glanced into the living room. Ethan was fast asleep on the sofa, his limbs draped over it in a position that didn’t look all that comfortable. It certainly wasn’t a sofa made for sleeping on. Wincing, I headed softly into the bathroom, hoping he would give Joe hell for sticking us in this tiny apartment together.
After I came out from having a shower in my towel, Ethan was walking towards the bathroom, rubbing his eyes. We both froze. ‘Uh, how did you sleep?’ I asked, gripping the towel tightly around me. ‘The bed is really comfy. I feel really bad that you had to have the sofa.’ I kept talking through the awkward moment.
‘It was fine, don’t worry. Is it okay if I go in the bathroom? I need to get ready for the first day of my course.’
‘Yes, yes, sure thing.’ I went to move around him to get into the bedroom but he stepped the same way as me. So we both moved to the other side and almost collided.
‘Hang on, you stay still.’ Ethan walked around me and grinned. ‘There we go.’
Ducking my head to hide my flustered cheeks, I hurried into the bedroom and slumped against the closed door.
Way to act like an adult who has everything together, Tessa.
I hurriedly got dressed to avoid any more half-naked encounters with Ethan. I pulled on a pair of jeans and my favourite branded hoodie. I was never one for loving dressing up and knew I’d need to be comfy and warm for wandering around Paris. Then I curled my hair so the fizziness was replaced by gentle waves. I added my usual minimum makeup of eyebrow pencil, concealer under my eyes, some natural blush, mascara and lip gloss. Glancing in the mirror, I was pleased that I looked a lot more presentable than I had done yesterday. I peeped out of the bedroom and heard that Ethan was in the shower, so I walked through the living room and into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
My phone rang as I was making it and I was relieved to see it was Carly.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked as I picked up my mug of tea and walked towards the balcony.
‘Yeah,’ she said groggily. ‘Sorry I missed you. I fell asleep early last night and really didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. It’s so cold here. Or maybe I’m coming down with something.’ She yawned. ‘But more importantly, how is Paris?’
I opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony. The day was crisp and clear again and I leaned against the railing and looked across at the Eiffel Tower. ‘Well, it took an unexpected turn…’
‘Oh my God – you met a Frenchman, didn’t you? ’
Rolling my eyes, I took a sip of tea before responding. ‘When I said I was off all men, that includes ones that live in Paris. No, you won’t believe this…’
I told Carly about walking in to find Ethan here.
‘That is awful,’ Carly squeaked when I had finished. ‘Joe just gets worse! His best friend must be horrible. Can’t you find somewhere else to stay? No, hang on, make him leave! You paid. Tell him to bugger off.’
‘I did try but it’s Fashion Week; the whole city is bursting at the seams. And he’s here for a French cookery course with some famous chef; it’s for work. He said he has some friends coming back to the city soon so it won’t be for my whole trip. And I don’t know, I feel bad. Joe lied to him. Made him think he’d paid for this place and told him it would be empty. Without checking with me. It’s not Ethan’s fault.’
‘I suppose not, but then maybe you should just come home. You can’t stay there with him,’ Carly said firmly.
‘I can’t leave now though. Stevie and Gita just ambushed me with a double phone call and Gita wants a synopsis for the new book. So to give her something, I told her I was writing a book set in Paris and I’m here on a research trip.’
‘Oh, Jesus.’
‘Yup,’ I agreed. ‘Listen, maybe it’ll be okay, Ethan will be out at this course, I will be around the city getting inspiration and he’s sleeping on the sofa. I bet we’ll hardly see each other and?—’
‘Hang on,’ Carly interrupted me. ‘There’s only one bedroom? Tessa, are you sure you can handle this?’
‘Handle what? Staying in a tiny apartment with my selfish, cheating, vile ex-boyfriend’s best friend while desperately trying to come up with an idea for my next novel due in just three weeks, which I haven’t written a word of? And I’ve already spent most of the advance thanks to said dickhead ex cheating on me and forcing me to move out alone into a ridiculously expensive flat at Christmas!’
Someone cleared their throat behind me.
I spun around, spilling my tea and just managing not to send my iPhone over the balcony. My phone case might claim to be drop-resistant, but I didn’t think it could handle that.
‘Uh, sorry,’ Ethan said, stepping back awkwardly. ‘I didn’t realise you were on the phone until…’ He trailed off, indicating he’d heard the last part of the conversation. The one where I’d slagged off his best mate and admitted my career was in trouble.
Why did things keep getting worse?
‘I just came to say I’m heading off to my course,’ he continued. He was a lot smarter today – wearing black trousers and a shirt and shiny shoes. His hair was still mussed up. It looked like it was similar to mine – always wanting to do its own thing.
I imagined my face was lobster red. I nodded tightly. ‘Sure, okay.’
‘I’ll see you later then.’ Ethan looked like he might say something else but then he turned and quickly left.
Once the apartment door had closed, I slumped against the balcony railing. ‘Awesome. He heard all that and will probably be phoning Joe right now to tell him his crazy ex is here and falling apart!’
‘Well, if he does then he’s just as much of a douchebag as Joe. You’re bloody entitled to be angry with someone who’s cheated on you and then subjected you to sharing a one-bedroom apartment with his best friend.’
‘You’re right.’ I sucked in a breath. ‘I don’t really care what Ethan thinks. I’m just stressing about this book, Carly. I need Paris to inspire me, and fast.’
‘Get out into the city and I’m sure it will. And don’t worry about Ethan or Joe. You won’t have to even think about either of them ever again after these few days.’
‘Good plan. And I’ll stay out of Ethan’s way. Because on top of our meeting yesterday and everything this morning, I can’t bear any more embarrassing encounters with the bloke.’
‘What happened when you met?’
‘He walked out of the bathroom half-naked when I arrived, and I attacked him with my suitcase!’
She giggled.
‘There’s more: his towel slipped down, and I got a glimpse of… everything. Plus, I looked like utter shit.’
‘Tessa!’ She tried to stop laughing, then abruptly did. ‘Wait, is he good-looking?’
‘Hmmm, not really, not my type anyway,’ I mused, although my mind did flit to what I had briefly seen under that towel. ‘He’s my height for starters,’ I said. I liked a tall man. ‘And blonde. He has a nice smile though. And his hair looks soft. And he’s got amazing eyes. They are very blue. And he made me French onion soup last night. It was bloody delicious, so the man can cook.’
‘That’s quite a lot of good points,’ Carly pointed out. ‘But you definitely don’t fancy him?’
‘Right. And even if I did, he clearly doesn’t have good taste in friends.’
‘Definitely not. If he’s friends with Joe, there must be something wrong with him,’ Carly agreed.
‘Okay, I better go. I need to get out of this apartment and find something to inspire a story idea.’
‘Okay. Good luck. You’ve got this. Keep me updated. And Tessa…’
‘Yeah?’
‘Bring me back some croissants. ’
I laughed. ‘I will. Do some work, talk to you later.’
We hung up.
Carly worked from home too; she was a copy editor and proofreader. She was freelance working for different publishers, and sometimes we worked in cafés together but always ended up talking instead of working. While she could never write a book herself – or so she would say – she was brilliant at making them as good as possible and I loved bouncing ideas off her. I just wished right now my mind wasn’t blank.
After finishing my tea, I threw my leather jacket and boots on, grabbed my cross-body bag and left the apartment.
The chilly air hit me when I went outside, immediately waking me up. I turned towards the Luxembourg gardens. When I researched Paris, this looked like a place I would enjoy so I thought I’d start there. It was a lovely morning. Crisp and sunny: the best combo. I put my hands in my coat pocket and strolled around the pond. Some people were sitting in the green chairs, others walked past me holding takeaway coffees, a family pointed out ducks on the water, and a group of tourists took photos of the stunning fountains. The city was alive as people headed for work or school or, like me, enjoyed the sights.
I took my phone out of my bag and snapped a picture as I stood by the water, watching the sunshine glistening on top of it. My social media accounts to promote my books had been neglected since my spilt with Joe so I posted the photo on all of them, announcing that I was on a research trip, although I felt like a fraud doing so. Excited comments flowed in from readers, keen to know what my next novel would be about.
You and me both, guys.
Finding an empty green chair by the lake, I sat down and took in the peace. I felt some of the tension roll out of my shoulders. This was really a beautiful place and I was happy I’d decided to come here.
Half an hour passed but nothing came to me. I still had no idea what I could write my next book about. Deciding that maybe brainstorming might help, I pulled out my notebook and pen.
Paris novel ideas:
My pen hovered above the page.
Main character meets a man who turns out to be like every other man and breaks her heart so she swears off love, moves to Paris and lives happily ever after with lots of cats.
‘Paris already inspiring you?’