24 Hours in Paris

Original Edition: Chapter Eight

4 p.m.

"After you sir," said Mira, holding open the big glass door for Jake. She followed him inside, and they now both stood in Paris's grandest and most famous department store, Galeries Lafayette.

The main floor was a shopaholic's dream, with a huge array of designer accessories for every wealthy woman's taste. Jake took a few confused steps in either direction. "Did you just take me to the most expensive store in Paris?" he said.

Mira laughed and shook her head. "No, no, this is just the showcase stuff, to entice all the rich tourists." She wasn't wrong, as the floor was buzzing with activity, most of which was from the "women salivating over leather satchels" contingent. "Follow me," she said, leading Jake into the inner maze of jewellery and cosmetics counters.

"Yeah...so...I'm not buying you any jewellery," he said, regarding the display cases with scorn.

"You don't have to buy me anything," she said. "But I do want to show you something special."

He was suddenly curious so he followed along. In seconds she turned and stopped, but nothing special had appeared.

"I don't get it," he said.

"Look up." When he did nothing she pointed at the ceiling. "Come on!"

He gazed upwards, and there to greet him was a golden, intricately carved, five-level atrium ceiling.

"You're currently staring at the most beautiful department store ceiling in the world," she said.

He shrugged. "I mean it's cool and all, but it's not really my thing."

Mira wasn't the least bit insulted. "Will you please just keep looking? There's a hidden message in the ceiling, and I'm curious to see if you can figure it out."

In reality, there was no hidden message at all, but Mira guessed that "Jake the fierce lacrosse superstar" would accept this competitive challenge. And he did. As Jake squinted his eyes in an effort to decode the non-existent message, Mira scooted over to the Dior cosmetics counter. Within seconds, the French cosmetics lady sprayed Mira with Miss Dior; it was the light, flirty, young woman's scent, or at least that's what Mira had learned from all the ad campaigns. Mira sniffed her wrist, and feeling satisfied, asked to see the actual bottle.

"Aimerez-vous acheter ce parfum?" the lady asked. No, Mira did not have any plans to buy the perfume, but here was the fancy (and free) solution to her lack of deodorant access. She remembered reading about French royalty in the eighteenth century, and how, in the absence of showers and deodorant, they would douse themselves in perfume to mask their obscenely horrid body odour. Mira smelled just fine for now, but how would things be ten hours from now? Like in the middle of the night, when Jake and Mira would be doing god knows what on a public bench? Based on their almost kiss, she needed to plan for the best-case scenario.

"Alors..." the lady said, impatiently waiting for an answer.

"Oh my god!" Mira cried, pointing behind the lady. The distraction worked, and as the cosmetics lady turned around to see what all the fuss was about, Mira sprayed Miss Dior on her neck and under both her arms. Satisfied that two sprays on each side would mask whatever future sweaty offenses were to arise, she put the bottle on the counter and hurried back over to Jake. Stubborn guy that he was, he was still staring up at the ceiling, his eyes as squinty as ever. She followed his gaze towards the ceiling. "Made any progress yet?"

"If there's a message I would've noticed it, you know? Like nowhere is there a sentence on that ceiling."

"Ohhh," Mira said. "I forgot to tell you it's a bunch of letters distributed throughout the ceiling; first you have to find them all, and then you have to unscramble the message."