Mr. Wright & Mr. Wrong: A BWWM Romance (21 page)

S
o much for
Brooklyn’s platinum blonde tips.

She was staring at the computer screen on a Monday afternoon, only half interested in her workday.

Once again, Clarice, having just dyed her hot pink, ombre tips Lucille Ball red—which purposely pushed the envelope on “natural color”—was having another mental break down.

Brooklyn rolled her eyes and wondered what Paris was like this time of year. It was probably quite nice. Like New York, there were probably plenty of flowers. The Louvre. The Eiffel Tower. Champagne. She’d never been before. Thanks to a few spring breaks spent in Mexico, she had a current passport.

She still had 12 days of vacation left for the year. It would probably be dumb to use them all up before the year was half over, but she could at least tap into some of them. It was a free trip to Paris. To be with Alex.

She blinked.

What the hell was she debating it for? Who the hell debates taking advantage of an all-expenses paid trip to Paris, especially with a fine-ass man waiting for them on the other side?

She got up and walked to her boss’s office.

* * *

T
here had been
a bit of back and forth with her boss. Why in the world employers made it difficult for people to actually use their vacation was beyond her. Sure it was last minute, but ultimately he had caved…even when she’d said she wanted to use all of them at once.

Now it was Tuesday and she was on a plane, comfortably cocooned in a pod in Business Class. That had been a nice little surprise. It was a strange experience. She was used to being stuffed next to other passengers in Coach. Now she couldn’t even see anyone else, except maybe the legs of the man across the aisle and the flight attendants. Supposedly the seat turned into a bed but she was far too nervous to sleep. Instead she plied herself with the free flowing champagne and thought about what she was doing.

Two weeks. With Alex. Was that too much time together? Would they get sick of one another? Turn into an old married couple that did nothing but nag at each other? Did he even want her there for that long?

She shook her head free of these thoughts. At the very least she could experience Paris. She sat back and sipped her champagne, flipping through the channels on the TV screen in front of her.

* * *

S
he had sucked
up the international text charges to let him know she was coming and give him the flight information. His only response had been:

She wasn’t sure what to expect. She made her way through customs and past the security gate, and then she saw him there. Her Alex. He was in his typical t-shirt, jeans and Converse shoes. He was also holding a bouquet of pink tulips. That moment, any doubts she had were erased.

It was like something out of a movie when she ran to him, laughing with delight, and threw her arms around him to kiss him on the mouth. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him even harder. They were making a complete spectacle of themselves and everyone around them gave them indulgent smiles and appreciative glances, some even started clapping.

Ah Paree
…city of love.

* * *

A
lex stopped
a taxi and gave the driver the address to the apartment in fluent French as he handed her bags off to him.

“You speak French?” she asked.

He smiled as though it weren’t a big deal. “Just enough where it counts. I make it a point to know a bit of the language of cities where I’m likely to find work. French, Spanish, Italian, passable Japanese and Russian.”

He let her into the taxi first, and when he followed and closed the door, she leaned back into him, which he found he had missed terribly.

It was true that Paris was a city full of chic, beautiful women. When he wasn’t busy working Alex had found himself wandering around, somehow secure in the thought that he was already very much taken. It was an odd feeling to have, seeing as Brooklyn lived in the one city he made a point of avoiding.

Somehow he just knew.

Now here she was, in his arms as they watched the city unfold on the drive to the apartment.

“So what made you decide to come?” he asked, his chin resting on her head.

“Honestly,” she laughed. “The new dress code at work.”

As though she could feel the perplexed expression on his face, she expounded on that, “And of course, I wanted to see you,” she added. “Gotta keep my man from the clutches of these Parisian chicks.”

“Your man, huh?” he mused.

“Yeah, my man,” she insisted with a laugh.

“Well, I have to confess I was also worried about keeping my woman from the clutches of those New York guys.”

“Your woman, huh?” she mimicked.

“Yeah, my woman,” he said, hugging her closer. “Why do you think I bribed you with that ticket.”

“Oh hey,” she announced. “Thanks for the upgrade by the way. I’ve never flown Business Class. It was…really nice. You never appreciate what it’s like to have both a window seat and the ability to go to the bathroom without annoying people until you’ve experienced it. You’ve ruined me, Alex.”

“All part of my evil plan to lure you in,” he said in a wicked voice.

She laughed.

“Actually, I have a lot of airline points built up. Life on the road and all.”

Soon, they arrived at their destination. The apartment was located in the hip, but pricey 4
^th
Arrondissement of Paris. The location housed a mixture of luxury boutiques and trendy shops and was located close enough to many of the touristy things Brooklyn could do while Alex had to work.

When Alex was done paying for the taxi, he grabbed one of her bags and she took the other as they walked in the front door.

“The elevator is pretty tiny,” he warned her, “but I think we can squeeze in.”

The entryway had marble flooring and there was beautifully intricate iron railing on the spiral staircase that led up to the apartments. The elevator had a similar design on the facade. He hitched the bag he was carrying up higher on his shoulder as he squeezed in next to her. In this enclosed space they were pressed intimately together, forced to stare at one another as the elevator made its way up to the top floor.

Brooklyn smiled at him and he smiled back. It was awkward, yet somehow reassuringly comfortable at the same time. No doubt, that’s what the next two weeks would be like as well.

* * *

T
he apartment was
small but beautifully decorated and had the most spectacular view of Paris around them. The first thing Brooklyn did was drop her bag and head out to the tiny balcony that housed a small table with two chairs. Alex watched her with a fond smile as she pushed one chair aside to lean out and take in the city in the morning light. He came up behind her as she looked out over rooftops and down into the street. Most impressively, the Eiffel tower stood proud and tall several blocks away. It still took Alex’s breath away.

“So unfortunately, you caught me on a day that I have to work,” he said regrettably. “We have a soft opening this week at the club. The good news is, that gives you a chance to explore the city on your own. You should, it’s beautiful, especially in May.”

She turned around in his arms and wrapped hers around him. “So when do I get to see you again?”

“It’ll be late, but not too late. Probably around 10 or so.”

She nodded. “Well, you go and have fun. I’ll see you tonight.” She kissed his nose.

Alex had other ideas. He wasn’t going to get her all the way over here and not take advantage, especially since he wouldn’t be seeing her again until late tonight after he was tired from an evening of work.

“Well, I don’t have to be there for a good hour or so. I think I’d like to explore a bit of New York first…one borough in particular.”

She laughed at the pun. “Well, I’m happy to be your tour guide,” she said, giving him a wicked smile.

He took her hand and led her back inside to the rather conveniently large bed.