Sleeping With Paris (23 page)

Sixteen

vendredi, le 24 décembre

Even the brightest lights in Paris cannot fill the void you feel when spending Christmas alone.

Thankfully, Lexi did invite me over to spend Christmas with her and her brother. What she didn’t tell me until Christmas Eve though, was that we weren’t spending the holiday in Lexi’s fancy little apartment off the Champs-Elysées. Instead, her parents had reserved a two-bedroom suite at a hotel as a special Christmas present for their privileged children.

I took the metro to the Franklin D. Roosevelt stop on the Champs-Elysées and bounded up the stairs past the herds of tourists, all bundled in their thick hats and gloves, giant cameras dangling from their necks.

Once I reached the top and set my eyes upon the magical, wintery wonderland of the avenue des Champs-Elysées at Christmas time, I wished I had brought my camera too. White, twinkling lights encircled the never-ending sea of trees that lined the avenue and led the way to the majestic Arc de Triumph. The enticing scent of
chocolat chaud
drifted out into the sidewalks, where tourists and Parisians alike popped from Louis Vuitton over to Sephora, lugging their heavy shopping bags, trying to cross those last few gifts off their Christmas lists.

I took a left down avenue Montaigne, warming my hands in my coat pockets as I passed by the decorated store windows of Dolce and Gabbana, Chanel, and Christian Dior. I picked up the pace as a bitter burst of cold air whipped past me, blowing strands of my long hair across my pink nose. I spotted the red awnings of the Plaza Athénée Hotel, and smiled as the doorman let me into the lobby.

Before leaving my dorm room earlier, I’d been in a depressed funk, missing Luc and thinking that I was going to be spending Christmas in some random hotel with people I didn’t know very well. None of it sounded like the cozy Christmas I was used to back in Ohio.

But as I gazed around at the sparkling crystal chandeliers, the fresh flowers circling the tall, creamy pillars and the swirling, marble floors, I realized this was no ordinary hotel. A wave of excitement swept over me as I rode the elevator up to Lexi’s suite. Maybe turning Luc down hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

“It’s about time, chick. I was starting to get lonely sitting in this palace all by myself,” Lexi said before giving me bisous and ushering me in the door.

“This is gorgeous!” I beamed as I placed my bag on the plush, white carpet and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window which boasted an astonishing view of the glittering Eiffel Tower.

I turned to Lexi who was now lounging on one of the gray, velvety sofas, a glass of champagne in hand, looking calm and collected as usual. As if it were completely normal to spend Christmas in a luxury hotel suite that probably cost more than an entire year of rent in her apartment.

 “Is this a typical Christmas present from your parents?” I asked as I gazed around at the lush, silver drapes, the pink, pastel lampshades and the fresh white roses that were sprinkled around the suite. In the adjoining room, I spotted a stunning grand piano that sat underneath a crystal chandelier, its lights glistening in the gold-rimmed mirror.

“Well, they went all out this year since they couldn’t spend Christmas with us. They’re off gallivanting around the world as usual, so they’re flying Brad and his friend Dylan in to keep us company tonight.”

“Wow . . . well, thanks for having me.” I was speechless. Lexi had one of
those
families. One of those families who could afford to travel the world
and
pay for their children to stay in lavish hotels with a perfect view of
la Tour Eiffel
. I couldn’t even imagine having a life like that. But at least I’d get to pretend for a night.

“No problem. I’m glad you could come. So how was the ballet? Seems like things are getting a little serious with Luc, no?” she instigated as she poured me a glass of Bollinger champagne.

“The ballet was awesome . . . but, afterwards . . . well, he asked me to spend Christmas with his family.” I sat down on the couch next to Lexi and sank back against a cushy, pink pillow while I sipped my bubbly champagne.

“No!” Lexi’s eyes widened in horror.

“Yeah, I know. So I asked him about all of those weird phone calls and if he had another woman in his life. He refused to explain the calls, saying it was
complicated
, but he still swore that he isn't seeing anyone else. How can I trust him though?”

“That’s just it. You can’t. We all know that
complicated
in man code means 'I'm fucking someone else.' Listen girl, you can't let yourself get attached to this dude and his family when you don't know what's going on behind the scenes.”

“So, you think I made the right choice?”

Lexi lifted her eyebrows, then gestured to our luxurious surroundings. “Um . . . ya think? Besides being able to spend Christmas with
me
, which is obviously better than spending it with some dude’s family, you’re absolutely right about Luc. Don’t change a thing. You have the perfect situation right now. You have all the fun, but none of the relationship mess to deal with, so why would you want to take things to the next level? We all know how that ends.”

“You’re right. I can’t let him persuade me. Does Benoît understand that the two of you aren’t in a relationship—that you’re just having fun together?”

“Not exactly.” She took one last gulp to finish her glass of champagne. “He wants things to be more than they are. But, I’ve never verbally committed to him, so the way I see it, I have no obligation to him. We go on dates, have sex and have fun together, but he’s not my boyfriend. I don’t call him my boyfriend and I’m not planning on it. If he gets any ideas, then I’ll just move on. There are plenty of other fish in the sea who are up for this sort of arrangement. It’s just like your blog, really—I’m dating like a man and having the time of my life.”

I hoped that we could keep these types of “arrangements” going on without someone getting hurt . . . but I knew by the way Luc had left my room the other night that it was too late for that. I had already hurt him.

Just as I was finishing up my first glass, there was a knock at the door.

“I have just the cure for you,” she said as she crossed the suite. “You won’t be worrying about Luc once you meet my brother.” She opened the door to reveal two incredibly handsome men. Christmas wasn’t going to be too shabby after all.

Brad, who, as it turns out, was Lexi’s step-brother, (their parents got married when they were really young, so she just refers to him as her brother), was a lean 6’4” with short, jet black hair, coal black eyes, and muscles in all the right places. He was the male version of Lexi in the looks department. One of those men who undoubtedly left trails of drooling, gawking women in his wake wherever he went. Dylan, his friend, was about six feet tall with messy, sandy blond hair, green eyes, and pearly white teeth. When he hugged Lexi, he held her for an extra few seconds, leading me to believe that something had gone on between them in the past. And if they hadn’t already slept together, they certainly would tonight.

“Charlotte, this is my brother Brad and his friend Dylan.” Lexi walked over to the bar to pour them each a glass of wine as the two men greeted me with bisous. They were both American, so I was impressed that they went in for the kisses instead of the more impersonal, American handshake. How culturally aware of them.

The four of us relaxed in the elegant living room and enjoyed the incredible view of the Eiffel Tower while working on the never-ending supply of wine and champagne in our suite. Feeling light-headed and giddy from all of that expensive alcohol sloshing around in my empty stomach, I was relieved to hear another knock on the door. This time, it was room service bringing us our Christmas Eve dinner.

As two polite French men dressed in spiffy red and black uniforms placed the silver platters on a candle-lit table, I tried to hide my child-like excitement in front of Lexi, Brad and Dylan, who acted like this was just another average Christmas—as if.

Dinner was amazing. As an appetizer, we all started with a bowl of
soupe à l’oignon
that had about an inch of gooey, melted gruyère cheese layered over top a hot, bread-filled broth. Next, I dug into a small
niçoise salade
topped with tuna, juicy red tomatoes, crisp cucumbers, and some type of small, unidentifiable bird egg that I tried just for the hell of it. Finally, I nibbled on a juicy chicken breast with buttery
carottes fondantes
on the side.

For dessert, we feasted on seven different types of cheeses, from the light and creamy
camembert
to the pungent
roquefort
. And, just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, Lexi lifted the lid off a platter of chocolate praline cake.

Brad scooted his chair closer to mine and smiled deviously in my direction as he dipped his fork into the fudgy icing and held it out for me to take a bite.

“Do you like chocolate?” he asked.

I nodded as I opened my mouth and let the thick, sugary icing melt on my tongue.

After he fed me another bite of the moist cake, I took a sip of champagne to wash it down and smiled.

“I don’t want to eat your whole piece,” I told him.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not a big chocolate fan. It’s too rich for me.”

Just then, a memory of Luc lying naked and feeding me chocolate in bed flashed through my mind.

“Here you go,” Brad said, luring me back to the present moment as he held another bite out for me to taste.

I suddenly wasn’t that hungry for chocolate.

I waved his hand away. “Thanks, but I think I’m all set. You’re right—it is a little too rich.”

As Brad led me over to the living room, I noticed that Lexi was now cuddled up with Dylan in a corner of the suite, her legs draped over his lap, their eyes locked in a lustful gaze.

Brad and I relaxed on the sofa together, his arm stretched loosely behind my shoulders. “So, how long have you been living in Paris?” he asked as his penetrating black eyes met mine.

 “About four months now. I’m taking some time off work to take classes at the Sorbonne.”

“Oh, so you’re a smart one, eh?” He winked at me as he edged a little closer.

I laughed as a flush crept up my neck and cheeks. I wondered if it would be weird to do something with Brad considering the minor detail that he was Lexi’s step-brother
and
that Lexi happened to be staying in the same hotel suite.

But I knew it was more than that. No matter how incredible this night was turning out to be, and no matter how gorgeous and sexy the man sitting next to me was, I couldn’t ignore the one thought that kept flashing through my mind.

I wanted Luc to be the one feeding me chocolate.

I missed him.

“So what about you?” I asked Brad, shaking Luc’s sweet face from my memory. “Lexi hasn’t told me where you live or what you do.”

“I’m living in Rome right now, but I’m thinking about moving up here actually. I spend a lot of time traveling in France for work, so I’d rather have a place in Paris anyway . . . but enough about work. Let’s get you another glass of wine.” Brad didn’t actually say what he did, but I got the feeling that whatever it was earned him a lot of money. Or maybe “work” was traveling and meeting women. Who knew?

He came back with two glasses of Port, took my hand, and led me toward the master bedroom.

As I followed Brad’s broad shoulders and felt his hand wrapped around mine, my stomach churned. Something didn’t feel right about this.

I glanced over my shoulder to see what Lexi and Dylan were doing, hoping Lexi would sense my hesitation and stop me from doing what I knew would happen if I followed Brad into this room . . . but they were nowhere in sight. They must’ve disappeared into the other bedroom.

Brad gestured for me to take a seat with him on the king-sized bed that spread out before us.

“Cheers,” he said as he clinked his glass with mine and shot me a mischievous grin.  

I drank two large gulps of the rich dessert wine, hoping it would relax me and help me to push aside the gnawing feeling in my gut that I had made a mistake in turning down Luc’s invitation.

Brad reached over and took the wine glass out of my hand, gently set it down on the bedside stand, then led me over to the bedroom window. The streets below now appeared cold and desolate, all of the last-minute shoppers having returned home to spend the evening with their families. The Eiffel Tower stood alone, far out in the distance, lighting up the frigid night sky.

As Brad’s warm body pressed into my back, and he wrapped his muscular arms around my waist, Luc’s hurt face from the night of the ballet flashed through my mind. A pang of guilt swept through me as I thought of how I could’ve been with him at that very moment, meeting his family, and drinking hot chocolate.

Brad may have sensed that I was somewhere else, because he grabbed my hips, turned me around to face him and pressed his lips against mine while he explored my body with his strong hands. I pushed Luc’s face out of my mind. I could feel bad all I wanted, but that wouldn’t change the past. I was about to spend the night with a sexy, attractive man in one of the most expensive and beautiful hotel rooms in Paris. As far as the Charlotte on my blog was concerned, this was
exactly
what I needed to reaffirm my decision of staying away from relationships. If I had committed to Luc, I wouldn’t have gotten to experience this. And the Charlotte on my blog would think that would’ve been a damn shame.