24 Hours in Paris

Chapter Five

Two p.m.

What goes up, must come down.

At least that was the rule in Montmartre.

After climbing endless stairs to get to her beloved crêpes, Mira now found herself navigating a downward slope with no end in sight. She and Jake were walking along Rue Lepic, a historic street lined with charming shops and restaurants. She wasn't just there for the scenery, though; it was also where she'd find the next item on her Paris bucket list.

Mira had planned the navigation well, but what she hadn't planned for was the man who was tagging along on her solo day. She glanced over her shoulder, and like the last time she'd checked, he was right behind her on the narrow sidewalk that necessitated being single file.

She still couldn't believe she'd lied about having a dump-truck ass, when simply admitting she'd hired a personal trainer to fit into her wedding day lehenga would've been far less awkward. Except, that would've meant admitting that her wedding was no longer happening, an update she hadn't yet shared with anyone at the office.

And then there was the rooftop barbecue. She of course remembered it in vivid detail, along with Jake's effervescent charm, and how he was able to make each person in the circle laugh, no matter the demographic. She'd kept her own laughter under lock and key, and while she hadn't been able to grapple with the reason why at the time, it was now plainly obvious: he reminded her of the joy she was missing in her own relationship. If she kept avoiding him, she wouldn't have to face it, except eventually, it all caught up to her anyway.

Despite her random—and likely unconvincing—set of lies, Jake hadn't seemed disturbed enough to ditch her after lunch. Instead, here he was, perfectly eager to spend every spare minute following along with whatever she had in mind. And, if she was being honest with herself, she was perfectly fine with that. More than fine. She just wasn't ready to admit it out loud.

"Is it a museum?" he guessed, keeping up with her pace. "Or booze? Or a store? Or cheese?"

She glanced back at him. "You'll see."

They turned left onto a street that was somehow also called
Rue Lepic. It was strange, but not exactly unexpected for Paris, a city that was fine with being aloof whenever it felt like it.

With the time spent studying Paris's map, Mira had accounted for this geographic anomaly, so without any navigational delays, they arrived at Café des Deux Moulins a few minutes later.

"Here we are."

Jake seemed uncertain. "A café?"

"Not just any café. It's the one from Amélie."

"Is that a movie?"

She ignored him and made her way inside.

"This is definitely it," she said, studying her surroundings.

From the vintage overhead lighting to the patterned floor tiles, it was just as Mira had imagined. She gestured to an oval-framed poster of the film. "See?"

"I definitely see it."

"You should really watch the movie if you haven't," she said, before getting distracted by the floor tiles. "I think this is the spot where she melted into a puddle."

"Huh?"

Without a word she nabbed the last empty table. As he took a seat across from her, she wasted no time in ordering a round of café crème. Bucket list efficiency, and all.

Mira spent a few more minutes blathering on about the movie, her rambling description petering out when two cups of espresso topped with foamy milk arrived at their table.