21. Audrey
Istood out the front of the townhouse as I waited for Theo to arrive, placing my forest-green overnight bag on the pavement beside me. It was heavier than expected, and certainly heavier than I could excuse. It was evidence of the nerves rising inside of me, forcing me to overpack for any circumstance. I even packed my passport, though I surely wouldn’t need it to cross state lines. Still, it was responsible to have a valid form of identification with you at all times. Some bars accepted my Australian driver’s licence, but I was not going to be stuck outside a bar in the event that one didn’t. Those are the times where being ‘carded’ isn’t all that flattering. I’d rather be sculling a glass of wine than be feeling young in the middle of a frosty street.
The straw-man argument left my brain as I thought back to why I let my mind wander so far, almost like I was protecting my own expectations. But while Theo seemed to enjoy making me his plaything these past few weeks, there was no way he’d dazzle me with a trip abroad, especially without asking me to chip in. He might have been born rich, but those treats were only for people you truly, truly cared about. And while I don’t doubt Theo’s made the effort to make our lives as co-workers more comfortable, I’ve learnt my lesson to keep him at arm”s length, so I promised myself I wouldn’t expect anything big this time around.
The door opened behind me, and Lucy looked me up and down like I was a misfit child of hers. “Why do I feel like I’m giving my daughter away to lose her virginity?”
Disgust filled my face. “Lucy, can you not?”
“I honestly can’t help it. I know you’re twenty-seven, but agreeing to a night alone with Theo Atkins makes me wonder whether you’ve gone clinically insane.”
“You like Theo, remember?” I placed a hand on my hip, wondering why now was the time she decided to backtrack. Lucy was the one who went on and on about how seeing him again was ‘fateful’, not me. “You told me you wished I got to know him better, now that he’d grown up a bit. That means you can’t shame me when I actually decide to go ahead with it.”
“You’re right, I do like him, I just didn’t imagine you’d agree to this.” Lucy fought with herself. “Like, I want you to go… and I’m happy for it to happen, but I don’t think you’re realising what this means? All those years of being an absolute shreware going down the drain.”
“Firstly, Luce, it’s just a bit of fun—I’m making the most my time here. Why wouldn’t I say yes to a trip away, to explore just a little further than the London village?” I huffed. “And secondly, not that this is relevant to the trip because I will not be sleeping with Theo Atkins… but you do know I’m not a virgin, right? You’re not actually selling me to the highest bidder.”
Lucy put her fingers in her ears to shut out the noise, as if I told my prudish grandmother something she didn’t want to hear. And in the worst timing ever, Theo’s car door shut, alerting me that he’d arrived moments earlier. “Who’s a virgin, now?”
“No-one. Safe to say, we’ve all ‘been around’.” I wrinkled my nose at my words, bending down to pick up the duffel bag, but Theo beat me to it.
“What on earth did you pack in here?” He laughed, and I wanted to be swallowed alive for trying too hard.
“You, get back inside.” I glared at Lucy, before turning back to Theo. “And you, do you have to comment on every little thing?”
“I do, because it makes you react like this,” he said, placing my duffel bag in the boot. From the quick moment it was open, I noticed he had packed two bags of his own, and I felt a little better to think he must also be indecisive about what to wear.
“I told you he does it for your arguments!” Lucy called out, before shutting the front door once and for all.
“Good riddance,” I replied, sitting beside Theo in the back seat. It was only now that I’d realised this wasn’t his car after all, but a chauffeured vehicle for pick-ups and drop offs. “Do you have a car of your own?” I asked, unsure of whether I’d seen him use one before.
“I have one in a garage, but we won’t be driving a long distance today. We’re getting on a train,” he explained.
Rather than the train stop I was used to making my way to each morning, the driver dropped us off to London’s St Pancras International, and my heart thumped heavily against my chest. Don’t get your hopes up, I told myself, removing the luggage from the boot of the sleek, black car. We must’ve just been stopping by, there was no reason for the chill running down my spine in anticipation, or the thought that Theo might be doing one of the nicest gestures for me that even my best friend wasn’t expected to do. Excitement was a cruel thing to have; nothing ever lived up to the expectation, and so I focused on the bustling crowd in front of us, trying to pretend I never had the hopeful feeling in the first place.
“You’ve got your passport on you, right?” he asked, and I took it from the black carry-bag I draped diagonally across my shoulder. This meant nothing, I told myself.
“I feel like you should’ve asked that before we left, just in case.”
“Yeah,” he contemplated. “But then that would spoil the surprise.”
“Where are we going, anyway?” I asked, and with a look of accomplishment, he pulled out two tickets for the Eurostar, from London to Paris. Holy shit.
“I knew I’d impress you.” He smirked, walking to scan our tickets and get us through the gates. A quick passport check ensued as well, and before I knew it, we’d stepped onto the train, placed our luggage on the racks, and found our seats.
“Why’d you do this?” I asked, caution filling my voice. The train began moving, and sections of the London city began to pass us by. On this high-speed rail, we’d be in Paris in just over two hours. Theo was on the seat next to the window, and my question pulled him away from the view.
“You challenged me, remember?”
“Yeah, but that was for making the most of London. Why are you taking me to Paris?”
He fiddled with a piece of string that had loosened from his jacket. “I wanted to show you how close it was. You don’t need to choose between either when you’ve already got a life in London.”
I didn’t understand him, nor his dedication to the cause. It was like every time I got a little closer to knowing what he wanted, and whether that involved me or not, I slipped further into confusion. “And so, you booked—with your own money—tickets for us to travel overseas. Accommodation too, I’m guessing?”
“Would you have preferred going to Paris with someone else?”
“It’s not that—” I started, before realising what I was doing. Was I making him feel bad for taking me to the one place I’d wanted to return to, ever since I was young? I watched a wave of worry wash over him, like he wasn’t good enough. Like I had higher expectations for my grand return, and I didn’t want him anywhere near it. But it wasn’t like that, was it?
And that’s when I realised my hesitation. It wasn’t that he was taking me there, it was that such a grand gesture for me might mean little to nothing for him. And there it was, the truth. I liked Theo again, or maybe I never really stopped, seeing as I couldn’t seem to get him out of my head this whole time. “Thank you,” I spoke honestly, before letting my chair swallow me whole.
As the train pulled up, I tried to convince myself it was motion sickness, and not that I wanted to throw up from the nerves. Having a life-long dream was terrifying; when you were lucky enough for it to come true, you’d probably be disappointed with the outcome, after years of hyping up the idea. I was the poster child of putting Paris on a pedestal, and if I ended this trip changing my mind about everything I’d thought I wanted my whole life, I didn’t know how I’d cope.
Theo’s hand went to the small of my back, softly ushering me forward, and suddenly it was official. I was in Paris. It felt warmer here, just a little. Either that or it was just the fatigue from carrying my bags. When we arrived, Theo booked a cab straight to our accommodation, an Airbnb overlooking the Eiffel tower, a classic tourist destination he knew I’d want to go to. The check-in was easy, and the apartment itself was small but perfect, with two rooms for us to stay in. I took a moment to unpack my clothes into the rustic, wooden wardrobe that had a similar shape to my duchess back in London.
“You unpack as soon as you arrive?” Theo’s voice stunned me, and I saw that he’d changed out of his dark, London attire to something with more personality. A soft green linen button up, and some beige slacks instead of his previous black jeans. It was an upgrade for sure, but had me worried I needed to change as well.
“It helps me calm down,” I admitted. His looming persona changed, and he made his way over to where I stood, peering out the window to the street.
“Alright, this has to stop,” he said, taking my two hands in his. “Shake it out.”
“What?”
“You’re overthinking this whole thing,” he started. “We’re here to enjoy your day, and I’m starting to worry I’m not impressing you.” Without making me feel stupid, he started shaking my hands in his, a swift technique to displace my tension. Though when I looked up at his sweet grin, it only added a newer tension. My heart betrayed me, pounding loudly through my chest.
“I get it!” I pulled away, a laugh escaping my mouth due to his efforts. “What’s on our agenda?”
“Let’s start with a walk. You ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I whispered, this time feeling more confident.
“Great. Let’s go.”
We started off strolling by the Eiffel tower. I took a selfie on my phone with it in the background, but I had to admit I preferred Theo’s candid shot he took of me when we first walked by. Then, we’d decided to settle in for a hot drink as the temperature dropped with the breeze. It wasn’t a café I’d seen on TV or in movies, but after the commotion at the Eiffel tower, I was honestly glad for a bit of privacy.
“Last time at the office, you said lattes were close to what you usually order,” Theo stated, his eyes trailing down the menu. It was written mostly in French, but the names were pretty straight forward, just like you’d expect at any café.
“Close indeed,” I answered, Googling how to order my extras. “Lucy got me hooked on oat milk lattes.”
He stepped closer to see what I was trying to translate, and saw that it wasn’t just any oat milk latte, but one with lavender syrup. “Is this the drink that went viral last year?”
“It might be.” A goofy smile grew over my face.
“I noticed you seemed to be a bit more into trends since back then.” He laughed. “Why’s that? Get bullied after leaving your hometown?”
“I’d like to think if you look back on your old self and cringe, then you deserve to be proud of your personal growth,” I said pathetically. Once Theo and I had figured out how to ask for my order, and after having to repeat it a few times for the barista to understand, we were met with a shocked face, mixed with disgust.
At first I thought she couldn’t understand my attempt at French, but I quickly got the impression that my order was deemed as some cardinal sin. The server replied, “We don’t do that here,” after having a moment to digest what I said, followed by a recommendation to visit the Starbucks down the road. What Theo and I walked out with were two espresso shots, which, while not my typical order, were still quite nice. After all, when in Rome.
“You know what? I like your outlook on life,” Theo finally added, once we found our way outside the café. A swig of my drink warmed me, and I could tell Theo relaxed in the same way. “Though if you follow every trend, it means you’re going to always look back on your outfits feeling like they’re out of date.”
“Oh? Sorry, I didn’t know I was in the company of a fashion expert. Your little linen moment clearly isn’t trending, at all.”
He laughed. “Oh, you mean one of the oldest materials in the world? Yeah, a real flash in the pan.”
One of my favourite things about travelling through the streets of Paris, as Theo guided me from one attraction to the next, was taking notice of the street advertisements. Underground bands, comedy shows, huge debutante balls, and galas had posters plastered across the city. It was so unlike my home back in Australia, where the only advertisement you’d see was the newest Hollywood blockbuster printed on the side of a bus, or the political billboards that had been there for decades.
To some, the overlapping of peeling, coloured paper may have been considered an eyesore, but for me, I felt like I was getting a little glimpse into each of these events without needing to fork out money for a ticket. If we could stay an extra day or two, I would’ve loved to go to one of them and compare it to our own gala. In fact, I started to wonder if we could make something even half as exciting as what the city would experience here. Then I started to think, what if our events could actually be better?
“What’s this?” I asked, pointing to one of the more eye-catching poster designs. It was framed inside one of the famous Moris columns, not slapped onto some alley wall, or peeling off the front of an A-frame sign. It used bright coloured fonts and depicted roses with sound waves and music notes coiling around the thorny flower stems. The name however, was a mystery to me. Where events that expected to be popular with tourists would have english captions, this was written only in French. It almost felt exclusive—as if it rejected the outsiders who weren’t fully invested in the country’s culture and language.
“Oh, I know that logo. It”s for a festival that used to be pretty popular, but it just hasn”t been bringing in the numbers like it once did.” Theo rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then snapped his fingers as if he had come to a realisation. “The Sound Society! That’s what it’s called, or La société du son.” He winked, trying to play off his horrible effort at his French pronunciation.
“Have you been before?”
“Will isn’t much of a festival guy, so I wouldn’t have any company. Besides, I haven’t really made it out of London, let alone the UK these past few years. Maybe I’ll go one day, if it has a successful year or two. No one wants to travel a long way for a lukewarm festival.” Theo nudged my side. “Maybe if this year has a good turn out, then we could go together another time? So long as you’d be interested?”
I thought about his question, and how far in the future he might be referring to. If we were just hanging out for the month before my contract ended, then why was he asking me about something that could be years in the future? But surely we weren’t just ‘hanging out’ anymore, not after what we’d been through together, the attraction we felt for one another, and for his thoughtfulness of getting me here in the first place. In fact, the idea of him properly returning my feelings made me nervous, and I wondered how I could play it off. “I guess we’ll see.”
After getting back to the Airbnb, I was exhausted. We did all the touristy stuff, because when you lived in the city, that was what you missed out on. Besides, I had every intention of going through all the alleyways in search of hidden gems when I moved here next year. So, while our day of exploring was just surface level, it just made me hungry to get to know the real Paris.
To fill up the rest of our night, Theo told me we would be going out for dinner. I wasn’t so naive to dress down this time around, and made sure to pack a floor-length, white knitted dress that pleated down the length of my legs. I had my hair out of my face in a claw clip, and added a similar black coat to what Theo wore earlier. This time, I was the one who caught Theo in his room, somehow being ready before he was. He adjusted his bowtie, in a classic black dinner suit with a white button up underneath.
“Did you rest up?” I asked. We’d taken a brief break after touring Paris all day.
“Hardly.” He smiled over to me. “But I feel like I’ll be up all night. Is it just me, or does it look like we’re about to go on a date?”
Thump. My heart throbbed hard, and I tried to ignore it, pasting a smirk on my face instead. If I started going along with it now, he’d be suspicious for sure. “What happened to my ‘that’s never going to happen’ conversation?”
He laughed. “You’ll come to find I have a hard time remembering small details like that.”
“Ah, of course.” I pretended he revealed something insightful. “How inconsiderate of me to judge that condition of yours.” He stopped fiddling with his bowtie and found his way to me at the doorway. His hand traced down my arm, and for a moment I felt like I was being devoured by his eyes. Then, he composed himself, using a soft tap of his fingers on my arm as he cleared his throat.
“Are you going to let me through?” His voice was lower than usual.
Stupid, I thought to myself, before nodding and turning to the side. “Sorry.” But instead of mocking me further, he grabbed my hand, and had me in tow while we exited the apartment.
Despite it being my only night in France, we found our way to an Italian-inspired restaurant that strictly served an assortment of pasta. It worked well since we were famished, and even though I was new to Paris, I was already aware of the small plating portions for meals on this side of the globe. London was relatively similar to Australia, with hot pots, sausages, and pub dinners in bulk, but Paris was likely another story.
“Bonsoir,” a waitress greeted us. “Table for two?” Based on their English approach, this spot must have been popular with tourists.
“That’d be great,” I answered, and we followed the svelte woman to a nice corner of the restaurant. There was heating nearby; I could feel it already, perfectly aimed at our white-clothed table.
“Care for a drink?” she asked in her thick French accent.
“Just a glass of red wine, thanks,” Theo said, looking up as he waited for me to choose.
“I’ll take a glass of white,” I added, and his expression made me feel controversial.
Once the waitress stepped away, he leaned forward. “You just said that because I ordered red, didn’t you?”
“Maybe,” I spoke back, building the tension between us. Since leaving the apartment, it was so thick, you could slice it with a knife.
“At least you’re telling the truth.” His eyebrows quivered leisurely. “And since we’re being honest, let’s talk about today. How is it, in the city of love?”
“Would the word lovely be a cliche?” I mocked, buying time for a more focused answer. “Because it has been lovely. If it wasn’t for you this morning, I’d probably be focused on every imperfection or missing detail. Yet somehow, we’re here enjoying ourselves after a busy day in the city—we’ve eaten, drank, and while we don’t have much time to tour around tomorrow before our train arrives, I still feel like it’s been a success. I love it here.”
Theo’s mouth turned upwards, and for the first time, I watched him make a vulnerable, yet happy expression. “I’m glad. And you saw how easy it was for us to come here, right?” he pushed on. “We could always come here again, whenever you like.”
His eagerness showed he was trying to keep me in London—for whatever reason he had deep down. And he was clearly trying hard. I didn’t agree, but I didn’t disagree… I just gave him a grateful nod and took a sip of my wine.