Marrying Mister Perfect (29 page)

“Lou? Thank God I got you.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of that
voice. Stupid heart.

“Jack? Where are you?” Tahiti, Venice… he was
bound to be somewhere disgustingly romantic and exotic.

Kelly perked up and stepped farther into the
room. “Is that Jack?”

“About where I am... that’s what I wanted to
talk to you about.”

“Is something wrong? Do you need me to send
you something? Did they send you to Antarctica or something and you
didn’t pack the right clothes?”

Kelly’s eyebrows flew up questioningly. Lou
waved her away. This was
her
conversation, but it was
Kelly’s kitchen—necessary since her oven was still out of
commission. So much for privacy.

“It’s Paris.”

Lou’s breath whooshed out and her knees
turned to jelly. Kelly quickly guided her down onto one of the
stools at the breakfast bar. “Paris?” she whispered.

Her
Paris. Of all the places around
the world that she’d dreamed of seeing, that one had always topped
the list. The one city more than any other in the world that she
wanted to see before she died. The most romantic city in the world.
Jack was there.

With someone else.

She’d resolved to let him go, but
Paris
. She hadn’t factored France into the equation. Why did
he have to tell her? Why couldn’t he have let her live in
ignorance? She liked ignorance. It was bliss, dammit.

She realized Jack was still talking and keyed
back in on the conversation.

“…need to hurry. My folks said they could
take the kids, but the only flight I could get you leaves from
O’Hare in less than three hours.”

“Wait. What flight?”

“The overnight to Charles De Gaulle. It
leaves at 6:30. Can you make it?”

Lou felt as if every molecule of her body
went still. She held her breath, bracing against the bulletproof
hope that rose up in a fierce wave. “You want me to come to
Paris?”

“Omigod!” Kelly squeaked. “Yes! Tell him yes!
You have to go! The kids can stay here with me.”

Lou shushed her so she could hear Jack.

“I know you’ve always wanted to see Paris
and… I owe you Europe, Lou. Just you. No kids.” There was a short
pause, as if he was hesitating, trying to decide what more to say.
“I want to give you this after all you’ve done for me.”

Lou ignored Kelly’s chants of “Say yes say
yes say yes” and tried to force her brain to consider this
rationally. “Miranda says this is okay?”

He gave a slight groan. “Actually, there will
be some camera crews. Miranda is using it as a chance to audition
some new camera crews or something.”

Being followed around by camera crews was
less than ideal, but it was
Paris
. Part of her hesitated.
Every time she’d tried to go overseas before some disaster had
happened to stop her. Her mother’s cancer. Gillian’s death. Bad
things always seemed to chase away her dreams.

“I don’t know, Jack.”

“You never take anything for yourself. Let me
give you Paris. Please.”

Please.

It was Jack. And Paris.

Right there, sitting in Kelly’s kitchen with
the kids screaming like maniacs in the next room, surrounded by the
smells of freshly baked blueberry scones, Lou’s heart melted into a
puddle of wax, taking her will to resist with it. “Okay,” she heard
herself say, before Kelly’s squeal temporarily disabled her
eardrums.

She scribbled the details on a pad Kelly
shoved under her hand and hung up, feeling dazed and overwhelmed.
And wondering what had just possessed her to agree to meet Jack in
Paris.

Her handwriting on the pad looked foreign.
Lou looked up and met Kelly’s eager gaze.

“Oh God,” she groaned. “What did I just agree
to?”

“Paris!” Kelly bounced on her chair.
“
L’amour
, baby!”

“I’m supposed to be looking for apartments
this week. I need to get a job. Resumes. I should be thinking about
resumes.”

Kelly looked at her as if she’d started
speaking in tongues. “Louisa Renee Tanner, if you do not go to
Paris tonight, I am going to disown you as my best friend. Now,
stop being an idiot and grab the kids. We’ve got to get you packed
and on that flight!”

With Kelly acting as Field Marshall, they
were back at Lou’s house—
Jack’s
house, not hers, she
reminded herself—in less than ten minutes. Five minutes after that
Lou stood in the middle of her bedroom feeling inexplicably lost as
Kelly bustled around her throwing toiletries into an overnight
bag.

“Did he say how long you’d be gone?” Kelly
asked.

Lou caught the brush Kelly flung at her and
dropped it into the bag. “Just over two days, including the
flights.”

“So just one day and one night in Paris.
Where’s your lingerie?”

“Kelly!”

“Oh, don’t pretend to be shocked. I know
you’ve got something naughty stashed somewhere. I didn’t take you
to Victoria’s Secret so you could admire yourself in the mirror.
Get your naughty bits and throw them in the bag.”

Lou obligingly grabbed her “naughty bits”.
She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that
tomorrow she would be in Paris, France. After nine years holding
onto her passport, it would finally get a stamp in it.

For all that Paris still felt surreal, it was
a lot easier to grasp than being in the most romantic city on the
planet with
Jack
. After she’d resolved to let him go.

“Kelly, what am I going to do? Tell me what
the Plan is.” She needed Kelly’s strategy right now.

“No plan. Where are those cute red heels we
got you? They looked kinda French, didn’t they?”

“They should be in the closet. What do you
mean there’s no plan?”

“No plan. Oh! Here they are.” Kelly emerged
from the closet, holding a pair of red heels above her head like
trophies. They found their way into the bag. Lou had no idea what
else had ended up in there. She’d just have to trust Kelly.

“I should pack up a bag for Emma and TJ.”
They’d spent the night at their grandparents’ once or twice and had
been begging to be allowed to stay over with the twins, but she’d
never just dumped them off on anyone so precipitously.

Kelly zipped Lou’s bag and pushed it into her
hands, sliding the strap over her shoulder. “Don’t worry about Emma
and TJ. Between your folks and Jack’s folks and me, they’ve got
more people wanting to look after them than any two children could
ever want. We’ll just pick up whatever we need later. I’ve got a
key. Right now, we have to get you to the airport.”

She herded Lou out of the room and down the
hall. Lou caught her arm, stopping her at the top of the stairs
before they got back in range of the kids.

“Kelly, seriously. What do I do? I need a
plan.”

Kelly put her hand over Lou’s on her arm and
gave a gentle squeeze. “No plan this time. No games. No strategies.
Just enjoy him. Enjoy being with him.”

Lou swallowed thickly and nodded. It remained
unspoken that this would probably be her last chance to be with
him. Her life suddenly felt very
Casablanca
. They would
always have Paris.

Lou closed her eyes for a moment. Paris. She
was really going to Paris.

“Come on, Aunt Lou!”

Provided she made the flight. Lou leapt down
the stairs, taking them two at a time.

#

Jack paced in the lobby of the Hotel Pont
Royal. He barely registered the rich dark wood paneling and ornate
marble floors. He was too consumed with agitation as he waited for
Lou to arrive.

Her flight had landed over an hour ago.
Shouldn’t she be here already?

Jack hoped she slept on the plane because he
had a full day of Parisian thrills planned for them. Miranda had
pulled numerous strings to arrange it all, but he knew it would be
worth it to see the look on Lou’s face when she finally got her
dream day in Paris.

The last few days of his life should have
been amazing. He strolled with Marcy through the Prado museum in
Madrid and drank sangria while they watched a private flamenco
show.

And the entire time, he hadn’t been able to
stop thinking about Lou. She had consumed him. Worry ate away at
his enjoyment. If only things were settled between them. If only
she knew how he felt and he could be sure of the same.

She’d always been there at his side and if he
asked her to stay he knew she would, but he had to know she was
staying because she loved him as more than a friend and not because
she felt obligated to help him. He’d always taken her presence for
granted, but now he needed to woo her into staying.

Paris was his trump card. He’d known she
wouldn’t be able to resist the city of lovers. Now all he had to do
was find out how she really felt about him, get her out of her
head, and woo his way into her heart.

All before he was supposed to fly off to the
Swiss Alps to ski and sip cocoa with Katya. Love on a clock. So his
impatience was justified.

Then Jack looked up as the doorman opened the
door and there she was. The camera crew that Miranda had arranged
swarmed around them.

Her coat was unbuttoned, revealing a simple
black dress that hugged her curves. She fiddled with the bright red
scarf twisted around her neck as she scanned the lobby. Her eyes
lit on him and a wide smile burst across her face. She looked chic
and sophisticated—gorgeous enough to be picked as a Suitorette any
day of the week—but it was that smile that squeezed a vise around
his heart.

Jack grinned back and quickly crossed the
distance to her side in long strides. “Welcome to Paris.”

Lou’s grin grew even wider, if such a thing
were even possible. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of
hearing people say that.” She closed her eyes, basking in the
moment. “
Paris
. I can’t believe I’m really here.”

“Believe it.”

Jack grabbed the shoulder strap of her bag,
meaning to carry it upstairs for her, but Lou jolted away from his
hand on her shoulder, her eyes flying open again. The bag started
to slide down her arm. He caught it and swung it over onto his own
shoulder. She took a quick step away from him. Her smile never
wavered, but he knew they’d both noticed how skittish she was. The
wooing thing wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped.

“So what are we going to do first?” she
asked, her cheer a little forced.

“First we drop your bag in the suite upstairs
and get some breakfast. Can’t see Paris on an empty stomach.”

She brushed away that suggestion with a wave
of her hand. “Oh, I’m fine. Let’s just get started. I’m not here
long. We don’t have a second to waste.”

“It won’t take a minute,” he insisted, taking
her elbow and holding it even though she shied away from him. He
guided her into the elevator, squeezing to make room for the
camera, and pushed the button for the top floor.

Jack let go of her elbow as the rickety
elevator lurched upward. She sidled away, as much as the cramped
quarters would allow, under the pretext of admiring the paneling on
the far wall. She’d never avoided being touched by him before. He
hoped this meant she was more, rather than less, aware of him
physically, but he’d have to tread carefully today.

Lou was holding herself back, trying to keep
the boundaries between them intact. The way she pulled away from
him frustrated Jack, but he could be patient. He had Paris—and if
Marcy wasn’t mistaken, her own heart—on his side.

He had all day.

#

When the elevator doors opened on the top
floor, Lou burst into the hall, needing to put some distance
between herself and Jack. She pulled up short when she realized
there was no hallway, just a small foyer and a large, ornately
carved door.

Jack appeared at her side, key in hand. His
nearness sent little shivers rocketing through her body, eroding
her will to resist. Why had she decided they shouldn’t be together?
She’d had a reason, she was certain of it, but now, with him
standing so close and his body heat pressing against the outside of
her arm, she couldn’t remember all of her carefully thought out
reasons why they had to keep things strictly platonic.

She’d made a list of her reasons on the
plane—in between being pampered with every possible luxury and
sleeping like a baby in the cocoon-like seat of international first
class. It was a good list. A rational list. Emma. TJ. Something
about making an idiot of herself on national television…

Jack reached past her and Lou focused on the
key, trying to get a grip. The old fashioned key matched the
elegance of the old hotel. It was gorgeously European.

Then Jack pushed the door open and Lou
gasped. The penthouse was massive and every inch of it defined
luxury. Jack nudged her into the room and she stalled just over the
threshold, gaping like a hick.

As Jack slipped through one of the pairs of
double doors leading off the main room to dispose of her bag, Lou
walked dazedly through the main room, trailing her fingers along
the back of a Louis XVI chair. When Jack came back into the room,
she turned to him with wide eyes. “Jack, this place is
amazing.”

He grinned, a twinkle in his bright blue
eyes. “You haven’t seen the best part yet.”

He strode toward her and grabbed her by the
shoulders. Her heart jumped in her chest and for a brief moment she
thought he was going to kiss her.
That would be the best
part
. But then he turned her around and marched her toward the
floor-to-ceiling windows—which she suddenly realized were a series
of sliding doors leading out onto the most massive terrace she’d
ever seen.

A pair of comfortable-looking wicker chairs
cozied up to the railing. A small table in front of them held a
basket overflowing with flaky croissants. And the entire cozy scene
looked out over Paris straight toward…