Chapter 27
Jack and I got into the elevator together.
And he held my hand. I tried to control my breathing, telling myself this didn’t mean anything.
Friends held hands, right? Except, did friends enjoy it this much?
I had a sudden, rash impulse to press the stop button on the elevator and to wrap myself around Jack and kiss him.
A shiver ran over me as I imagined that kiss.
Jack looked at me curiously, but I kept my gaze straight ahead.
I’m sure he couldn’t tell that I was imaging running my fingers through his hair again, pressing him back against the wall…
Stop it, Eve! That’s definitely not a friend thing, and Jack had said he wanted to be friends.
So, just stop imagining how wonderful it would feel to…
The elevator tinged to signal that we were on the lobby level as the doors slid open. Jack kept darting glances at me as we walked outside. There was a chilly breeze gusting up, so I took a moment to button up my coat, then resumed holding hands, as if that was a normal thing we always did.
I paused at the corner, orienting myself. I made a decision, and we crossed the street and then turned right. After several blocks, Jack broke the silence.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going? You know, I’m pretty much at your mercy here. I have no idea where anything is and don’t speak French, so I couldn’t ask for directions, even if I knew where to go.”
I chuckled. “Ask for directions? That doesn’t seem very manly, Jack.”
He smiled at that. “So are we headed toward food or am I going to have to resort to pantomime to communicate that I’m starving.”
I eyed him, mock-seriously. “You know, Marcel Marceau was French. He set the bar pretty high for pantomime. I’m not sure you’d get any reaction by just pointing to your mouth.”
His grin returned, then turned sober. “Then it looks like I have to throw myself on your mercy and trust you to take care of me. “
“Jack, have I steered you wrong yet? You can trust me.” I meant it to sound teasing, but I think it came out more honestly than I had intended.
Luckily, we were right abreast of the cafe.
It was one of my favorites. It was the place Grandmère, and sometimes Bernard, took me for Sunday lunch and macarons—Ladurée.
Just looking at the mint green facade and the twinkling lights framing the windows showing off a pyramid of pastries made my heart happy.
We were on the tail end of the lunch rush and were able to snag a small table easily.
We sat on the carved wood chairs, and I placed my bag on the marble top of the table.
I sighed happily, looking at the chandeliers casting a soft glow over the pastel hued walls, the tables glittering with china, silver, and crystal, and the large display case along one wall featuring the world’s best pastries. At least, that was my opinion.
Jack looked around him, eyes wide. “Eve, this place is amazing. It’s so beautiful. Everything looks old, but beautiful.”
I smiled in appreciation. “Yes, it is old, but it is beloved. Ladurée is a part of what makes Paris such a marvelous city.”
I decided to have the Salad Nicoise and Jack had the French onion soup, which smelled heavenly and almost made me regret my choice.
Jack ate, his head constantly swiveling, looking at the people, the buildings and the food, but always coming back to me.
He kept looking at me like he was trying to figure something out.
When we had eaten our delicious food, I purchased a gift box of macarons, a rainbow of pastel colors, and two pastries. I, of course, picked pain au chocolate. Jack was overcome by the choices, so settled for copying my selection.
“Would you like to eat them here or try to find a bench outside?” I was hoping for inside as the breeze outside had picked up and it looked chilly.
“Um, inside, if that’s ok.” We resumed our seats and ate our pastries, moaning a tiny bit in appreciation of the skill of the bakers in producing such perfection. After we had finished our pastries, savoring each and every crumb, Jack spoke.
“Eve, I’ve got an apology to make.” Jack wiped his hands nervously on the embroidered linen napkin and placed it on the table.
“What for, Jack? You’ve been perfectly wonderful! You don’t need to apologize for a thing.”
“No, I do. I need to apologize because…I lied to you.”
“You lied?” I asked, slowly. “When?”
“Remember when you came to the concert, and we were kissing, and I asked you to come home with me.”
I nodded. Yes, I definitely remembered that. That kissing might have been featured in full color in some of my more vivid dreams.
“See, I just have a hard time reading you, Eve. And I was worried that I was making you feel like I was pushing you too hard, towards a commitment you didn’t want to make. I didn’t want to scare you off. So, I lied.”
My whole body went still. “What was the lie, Jack?”
“The lie was when I said it would be no big deal, Eve. That was a total lie. It would have been everything to be with you. I’ve woken up once with you in my arms, and that feeling, I want that feeling for the rest of my life.”
My whole body tightened with tingling anticipation. I could barely pull the breath into my lungs to whisper, “What are you saying, Jack?”
“What I’m trying to say, and I’m doing a really bad job of saying it is, first, I apologize for lying to you. And second, Eve, I love you. You’ve totally and completely captured my heart, and I don’t want to live without you. Will you marry me?”
My eyes flew wide with shock, as he lowered himself onto one knee in front of me and pulled a small jeweler’s box from his pocket.
He held it out to me, his face a picture of nervousness, unsureness, and…
love. He was looking straight into my eyes, his eyes glowing with adoration.
I knew that look. I’d seen it before. And now I knew I could trust it.
Jack loved me? Jack loved me! How could that be? All the times I’d thought he was being obnoxious and pushy; he was really just trying to get my attention?
“Jack? Is this true? How can this be true?” My heart was beating so fast I could hardly breathe.
“Eve, do you remember when we first met?”
I nodded. Of course I remembered that.
“Do you remember what I was doing?” he asked.
“You had your head in your hands.”
“Eve, I was praying. I was so conflicted about going to the memorial. I didn’t want to go but felt I should go. And so I asked God for help. And he sent an angel. You.”
I gasped but didn’t interrupt.
“When you tapped my shoulder, I was dazzled. I’d never seen anyone so beautiful.
And you were so kind, to reach out to help me, even though I was a stranger.
I was just dumbstruck. And then at the memorial when you pretended to be my girlfriend, I wanted that to be true with all of my heart.
When I offered that you could stay in my room, I wasn’t trying to score or anything, I just didn’t want to say goodbye to you.
You’d swept me off my feet, honey. And you keep doing it.
“And Eve, when I screwed up and you wouldn’t talk to me or answer my texts, I felt like I had been knifed in the gut. It hurt so bad, thinking that you hated me. And then,”—his face grew a little sheepish—“ I gave Kimi the spa certificate so she could go figure out what was going on.”
“You sent Kimi to be a spy?” I pretended outrage, but I was floating on a cloud of happiness, unable to feel genuinely angry.
“Yes, I did. Sorry!”
“No need to apologize. I wondered why she picked me, but I’m glad she did. We had a great time and I really like her.”
“Well, that’s good! It’ll make life so much easier if you get along with the band, since they’re pretty much my family. But Eve,”—he grew serious—“you still haven’t answered.”
He held the jewelry box in one hand and popped the lid open with the other. I sucked wind, dazzled by the ring in the box. It was a simple, large, oval-cut, ice blue stone. The band was platinum, set with a row of tiny, sparkling diamonds. Tears flooded my eyes and blurred my vision.
“Honey, do you like it? Is it OK?” he asked, sounding concerned.
I gasped, “It’s gorgeous, Jack! I love it!”
“Can I put it on you? Is your answer yes?”
“Yes! A thousand times yes!” He slid the ring on my finger, and it was a perfect fit. I flung my arms around him and kissed him. He stood, pulling me up with him, pressing me against him, continuing the kiss.
As he broke off the kiss and pulled back to gaze into my eyes, I became aware of cheering. Glancing around I saw the entire café was watching us and clapping. The French are suckers for a happy ending.
“Jack,” I breathed.
“Yes, love?” he whispered back.
“Why do we always seem to have an audience when we kiss?”