Missing In Paris

Chapter 1

[I hope this story gives you a nice escape to Paris along with some humour and romance; thanks for reading! :-) ]

***

The thing about Paris is...a random encounter can completely change the trajectory of your life.

Which is exactly what happened to Neela on a random summer evening in the city of lights.

Before ever setting foot in Paris, Neela had been reading about it in books, soaking it in through the screen, ogling it via decorative throw pillows...Paris was somehow everywhere despite a whole ocean of distance.

Familiarity aside, Neela always knew that one day...she would have to experience all of Paris for herself.

Soon after Neela arrived in Paris, she would find herself on the verge of tears from her very first taste of a buttery croissant, a logical response to a chewy-flaky combo unlike anything she'd ever experienced. She would also discover how at peace she could feel just from spending an afternoon reading a book in one of Paris's sprawling gardens. This, along with several other magical solo moments, was quickly proving Paris to be all that she'd imagined and more.

As for the men in Paris...a category unto their own. We will get to that.

This elevated existence was so remarkable to Neela, that she soon realized it could not be experienced within the limits of a work-approved vacation. She needed more. She needed so much more in fact, that she eventually went from a fully-grown woman living a normal life in North America, to a restless soul who would leave it all behind for the 'promise.'

The promise of Paris.

Less income, less comfort, no family, the uphill battle of learning a new culture and making new friends...oh what fun! Despite these challenges, it had all been worth it since the very day she'd packed up her Toronto possessions and moved to Paris eighteen months ago.

Speaking of those eighteen months...it would be terribly inaccurate to summarize this timeframe without making any reference to the men.

Oh the men...

As a modern woman of the world, Neela didn't need a man, and if forced to play a game of would-you-rather, she would obviously choose French wine, baguettes and cheese over a man every time.

Gourmet delights aside, it was also true that men could be a lot of fun. And another truth? The city of Paris was steeped in the sparkling romance of centuries past. With a reputation like that, the chances of meeting fascinating men in unexpected ways were good. Extremely good.

These random encounters were quick to pile up, and every now and then, as Neela would soon learn, a random encounter however fleeting, could in fact leave a lasting impression...

***

It was a beautiful late day in early summer, the sort of breezy affair when the sunlight hung around well into the evening hours.

On this balmy day, the tourists made their way down a crowded boulevard, too distracted by directions or family squabbles to admire the packed terraces where laughter echoed in the air.

Neela squeezed past a particularly loud cluster of tourists, her annoyance building by the second. After eighteen months she definitely still loved Paris, but she didn't love how tourists felt the need to spread their bodies across the entire width of the sidewalk.

Her long stylish dress and patent leather booties screamed 'boogie six-course dinner,' but instead of a luxury car with tinted black windows, she was headed for the grimy underground métro.