We Will Always Have Paris

We Will Always Have Paris - 5

François

I opened the top button of the shirt and rolled up the sleeves to my elbows. It was nice and cool in the store. The air condition hummed peacefully in the background. The day already felt endless, even though there had been visitors and I had sold some smaller pieces of art. Candleholders, lamps, and porcelain were particularly popular. They were easier to bring home from a vacation than furniture. In less than two hours she would be here. I found a cloth and started polishing a new batch of brass candleholders. I had a few people freelancing for me searching for antiques for a fee. I had to because I couldn't be here manning the store and on the hunt for new treasures. The cell phone vibrated on the table next to me. I hoped it wasn't Juliette who regretted our date and canceled on me. With my heart in my throat, I put down the cloth and picked up the phone. I breathed a sigh of relief because it was an unanswered call from Laurent.

"Salut mon ami," he replied when I returned the call, "I just wanted to make sure that you havn't changed your mind about coming to Saint Tropez for the weekend? We leave Friday morning."

"Sorry. But I can't."

"I understand, but I just want you to know that I really want you to join us. It's not the same without you." Laurent grinned through the phone. "Aurélie's coming."

"Juliette is in Paris," I blurted out.

"Julie Juliette, your Juliette?" he repeated, whistling. "The one who got away..." Laurent knew Juliette from the time he and I had shown her and her friend Paris, the way we knew the city. They had already seen the big tourist attractions like the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre, the Sacre Coeur and Notre Dame. So we showed them Paris by night.

"Yep. She was at the bar last night, but managed to leave before I was able to talk to her." I let my eyes drift over my business, my life's investment, and my home. It was all I owned.

"So you didn't have a headache?" he asked. "You seemed a little off too. But I didn't know you two were talking?" He asked sounding puzzled, as if I was hiding something from my best friend since childhood.

"We do... we didn't, but after I saw her last night, I sent her a request on f*******: and wrote to her. We're meeting tonight."

"Hot date or what?" He teased me through the phone.

"A friendly talk. She seemed a little fazed." I didn’t know why. "She said she was surprised, but it seemed like more than that."

"It may be that she has never recovered from the loss of you." He barked out a laugh.

"I hardly think she's been pining for me all these years.” I snorted. “I was nothing more than an overgrown teenager who didn't take myself or my life seriously." My younger self loved her, but also my freedom, parties, and computer games with friends.

"Call me when you get home. I need to know how it went. Does she look like herself?"

"Scary how much. It was like staring into an image from the past." I contemplated for a few seconds. “Do I look like myself?" I was curious to get a hint of how she saw me.

"Yes, but with more muscles and really bad taste in clothes," he laughed. Laurent wore classic suits and laughed at my retro style. "Joke. It's a joke, François. Women love you, your Nordic look, and your style. I'm just a shadow next to you, mon ami."

"Ha ha ha. Women love you too, you can drop the act, but do you have any idea where I should take her tonight?"

"Hmm. You don't want to seem too obvious like you want to lure her into your bed. But if I know you, that's exactly what you want, isn't it?"

He knew me too well, and I had more than once let my thoughts wander to hot lovemaking with Juliette.

"If she were a random, lovely woman I'd just met, I wouldn't hesitate to turn on the charm. But I want more... to get to know her, to hear how she's been."

"Take a walk along the Seine. Have a drink together and see how it develops."