Authors: Juliette Sobanet
Tags: #Fiction, #Humorous, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Women
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
SLEEPING WITH PARIS
Copyright @ 2011 Juliette Sobanet
All rights reserved.
This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by any means, without permission. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person with whom you wish to share it. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for honoring the copyright laws and for respecting the author’s hard work.
Cover art designed by Laura Morrigan:
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Also by Juliette Sobanet:
Sleeping with Paris
“This fun, fast-paced debut novel by Sobanet is the kind of story you want to pick up at the end of the day with a glass of wine and let the rest of the world fall away.” -Sophie Moss, author of
The Selkie Spell
“What a fun book! I absolutely love everything about it, from the colorful cover to the characters and charming French phrases! Seat yourself comfortably, grab some chocolate and enjoy this lovely modern romance story.” -Ananda of
Chick Lit Advocates
Books to Remember
“This story of a twenty-something grad student in Paris trying to mend her broken heart while ‘dating like a man’ may sound like one you've read before. But, trust me, it's not. Just as
West Side Story
was a new telling of
Romeo & Juliet
Sleeping with Paris
is a fresh approach to this tale. This book had me wiggling in my seat, laughing out loud, and itching to book a trip to Paris!” -Stana Warren, avid reader and Francophile
“A fun read about a heartbroken American newcomer to the City of Love . . . and how she manages to overcome her hurt (and various other obstacles, along the way!). If you love Paris, you'll definitely enjoy this. I did!” -
Talli Roland, author of
Build A Man
“You remember the Calgon jingle ‘Take Me Away?’
Sleeping with Paris
does exactly that. It makes you want to pour yourself a glass of wine (or eat some delicious chocolate), dive into the book, and leave your cares and worries behind. I haven't read a chick lit novel in a while that was this romantic and entertaining.” -Amy Bromberg of
Chick Lit Central
Sleeping with Paris
was well-paced, entertaining, and best of all it had surprising depth and did an excellent job of plucking at my heartstrings.” -Tracie Banister, author of
Blame It on the Fame
“Anyone who loves the story of a strong woman finding herself and her heart is going to be absolutely enamored with this book.” -Michelle Bell, Chick Lit enthusiast and avid reader
Sleeping With Paris
by Juliette Sobanet was one of the best books I read in 2011! It's a true Chick Lit, and one I will never forget.” - Isabella Anderson of
Chick Lit Goddess
“What I love the most is how Juliette interlaces the charm of Paris, the City of Love, and the city
loves into her novel. As I read the book, I felt like I was there, walking the lively, café-lined streets, taking in the tasty aroma of buttery croissants and freshly baked bread.”
-Katie Trusz, Teacher and avid reader
To all of my study abroad friends, especially Deirdre and Sarah.
Without you, the stories in this book wouldn't have come to life.
To Sean, for loving me, for believing in me,
and for having a spreadsheet at the ready to keep my creative madness under control.
And to my mom, for sending me on my very first trip to France.
I would like to thank my incredible critique partners, Karen, Sharon and Mary for reading several drafts of this novel and for being such wonderful friends and writing teachers. Special thanks to Alison for being my writing partner-in-crime, France buddy and a fantastic friend. Thanks to Angie for being an amazing friend and beta reader. Huge thanks to my wonderful agent, Kevan Lyon, for taking a chance on me and for helping me to become a better writer. Thanks to my other France friends for making those times some of the happiest in my life, especially Ed, Molly, Annie, Mark, and my amazing host family. Thanks to Jessica for being my loyal friend through it all, and to Amanda for being like a sister to me. Thanks to each and every one of my fabulous girlfriends who, whether you meant to or not, served as an inspiration for this novel. Thanks to my mom and dad for always encouraging my creative side, even when it wasn't practical, and to my mom for always believing in me. Finally, thanks to my incredible husband for being there for me every single day and for being so excited to take this crazy writing journey with me.
Table of Contents
vendredi, le 24 septembre
Just because lawyers know how to lie doesn’t mean they’re good at it.
“Keep in touch,” I called, waving a not-so-tearful goodbye to my co-workers for the last time. I stepped out into the muggy DC heat and was so happy to be done with that hellhole that I felt like ripping off my little black suit and skipping down M Street in my underwear.
After seven years of practice, both as a student, then as a poor college graduate, I’d become quite the expert at strutting in heels down the brick sidewalks of Georgetown. Today, as I glided along in a state of total disbelief that this day had finally arrived, my normally uncomfortable heels effortlessly carried me away from my boring part-time translating job—make that my
-translating job—down to Wisconsin Avenue, where my fiancé was wrapping up his last day at his Georgetown law firm.
Unable to hide the enormous grin spreading across my face, I reached into my purse and pulled out my flight itinerary just to make sure, for the hundredth time that day, that this was, in fact, my life. I scanned the piece of paper for our names.
Charlotte Summers and Jeff Dillon. One-way flight departing from Washington Dulles International en route to Paris Charles de Gaulle. In two days.
Two freaking days!
After stopping at the liquor store and splurging on a fancy bottle of champagne, I bounced into Jeff's posh office. His bubbly administrative assistant, Tara—a former hometown beauty queen—greeted me with her pearly white smile.
“Hey Charlotte,” she said, her gum popping like miniature firecrackers in her mouth. “You getting excited for Paris?”
“Well, I just put in my last few hours at the office otherwise known as hell, so excited would be an understatement.”
Her platinum blond ponytail bobbed as she giggled. “Jeff sent me the pics of your new apartment over there. Oh my God, it’s gorgeous!”
I beamed. “I know. Can you believe it? This firm doesn’t mess around.”
“Girl, you two are going to have so much fun. But don’t forget about us back here. We’re going to miss you so much.”
“We’re going to miss you too. But don’t worry, we’ll be back in the spring for our friend’s wedding, and
we’ll be moving back in a year . . . unless I can convince Jeff to stay longer.” I winked at her. “Hey, is Jeff in his office?”
“No, he just stepped out for a minute, but you can go on in and wait for him. He should be right back.”
“No prob, dear.”
I walked down the long corridor, let myself into Jeff's secluded, corner office and ran my finger around his immaculate desk. Over my new, ruby-colored bra and thong set, I was sporting a sexy black skirt coupled with a silky violet tank in the hope that we could relive the steamy sex we’d had the last time I wore this hot little number to his office . . . which was also when I gained a new appreciation for his extra cushy, swiveling office chair.
I plopped the bottle of champagne onto a neat stack of papers on Jeff’s desk as I took a seat in the swivel chair. After I jiggled the mouse to bring his computer out of sleep mode, I signed into my email account and clicked on an email Jeff had sent me the week before so that I could, once again, gaze at the pictures of the charming Parisian apartment that awaited us. In his email, Jeff had written:
Welcome home babe. Can’t wait.