‘That sounds fun.’
He set down the raspberry cocktail in a sugar-frosted glass. She took a tiny sip. The alcohol was stronger than she’d expected and the bubbles from the champagne flew up her nose. She choked and laughed.
‘Wow! This Royal Pink Circus is a doozy!’
‘What does that mean?’ asked Alex as he took a sip of his beer.
‘You know—extraordinary, spectacular. A doozy.’
Next came the cake. If it could even be described as that. This was no delicate petit-four. This was honest-to-goodness the biggest piece of cake in the universe. Seven layers of sponge, cream, raspberries and sauce.
She picked up her fork and took a bite. ‘Oh, wow...’ She leaned back in the chair. It had been hours since she’d had dinner. Alex was smiling at her again, with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Would you like a piece? This is to die for.’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t let me deprive you. I’m getting enough pleasure seeing the look on your face.’
‘Didn’t you order anything?’ She waved at the empty space in front of him, poising her fork above the cake again.
‘I did, but I asked the waiter to bring your cake first.’
She swallowed another heavenly spoonful, ‘I could get used to this kind of consideration, you know.’
Something flickered across his face that made her wonder if she’d made some kind of dreadful faux pas.
But Alex just nodded in agreement. ‘And I think I could get used to Ruby Wetherspoon, who knows how to eat a piece of cake.’
She licked her fork. ‘What? Do the people around you not eat?’
He lifted his eyebrows as the waiter reappeared and put a plate down in front of him, with the biggest BLT and portion of French fries she’d seen in a long time. She reached over and grabbed a fry.
‘Not like you,’ came his amused reply.
She shrugged. ‘They certainly don’t skimp on portions here. I’ll need to remember this place. What’s it called?’ She looked at the name and screwed up her face. ‘Too difficult. I’ll just need to remember it’s next to the fairytale hotel.’
‘The fairytale hotel?’ He’d started to eat and was making short work of the fries.
She nodded her head sideways. ‘Yeah, next door. Isn’t that the hotel every little girl wants to stay in when she comes to Paris?’
‘I thought that was Cinderella’s Castle at Disneyland?’
‘Yeah, well. I’m older now. Tastes change.’ She eyed her cocktail again. ‘You know, you’re going to hate me. But this is going straight to my head. Do you think I could order a coffee instead?’
He gave a wave of his hand and ordered her a coffee.
The cocktail might be a little strong, but the cake was perfect. The restaurant was perfect. The ambience in the street was perfect. And Alex...? Even more perfect.
‘Have you been up the Eiffel Tower yet?’ he asked.
She nodded, then leaned across the table and whispered, ‘Don’t tell anyone, but I thought I was going to be sick. It was okay looking into the distance, but when I looked down...’ She made a swaying motion in her seat and shook her head. ‘Bad idea.’
He laughed. ‘And have you been to Versailles and the Louvre?’
She nodded. ‘I queued for ever to see the Mona Lisa.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘What did you think?’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Honestly? Smaller than I expected—and a bit dark. But do you know the strangest thing? I still wanted to reach out and touch it.’
‘She mesmerised you. Just like she did Leonardo. What about Notre Dame? Have you been there yet?’
She nodded again.
He held up his knife and fork. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘Just a few days. We’ve tried to cram in as much as possible.’
‘Is there anywhere you’d still like to see?’
‘Of course! This is Paris.’ She counted off on her fingers, ‘I still want to visit the Sacré Coeur and Montmartre—oh, and the Père Lachaise cemetery.’
He took a drink of his beer. ‘So, I offer to take you sightseeing and you want to visit dead people?’
He slid down in his chair a little—he seemed to be relaxing more and more as their conversation continued.
‘Well, I guess I bring out the best in you.’
She laughed. ‘It’s supposed to be beautiful—enchanting. Haven’t you ever walked around a cemetery before? In the summer it can be so peaceful. I actually quite like wandering around and looking at the inscriptions in the gravestones. There’s a few in our local church that have a skull and crossbones on them, showing that people had the plague. It’s fascinating.’
His smile spread from ear to ear. ‘Ruby, every time I think I might know you a little you say something else that surprises me.’
‘Is that bad?’
He shook his head. ‘No, it’s good. Very good.’ He reached over and took her hand. ‘I’m sure I can find some things in the next two days for us to visit.’
‘But today’s New Year’s Day. Everywhere will be closed.’
‘Don’t worry about that. I’ll work something out.’
She was so wrapped up in him—in the way he was smiling at her, the way he was flirting with her—that she almost didn’t notice the men in long black coats until they were almost on top of them.
One of them put a black-gloved hand sternly on Alex’s shoulder, bent down and spoke quietly in his ear. She couldn’t make out a word.
‘Alex? What’s wrong? Who is this?’
The expression on his face changed instantly. First it was a flare of anger, then it was a pure panic. He stood up, sending his chair flying.
‘Alex?’
The black-coated man barely even acknowledged her presence.
‘Ruby, I’m sorry—I have to go.’ He fumbled in his coat for his phone. ‘Give me your number. I’ll call you.’
Her hands went automatically to her bag. No phone. She’d lost it.
‘I don’t have my phone, and I can’t remember what my number is.’
She felt like an idiot. Everyone should know their mobile number. And she did—she had it written down at home—but right now she couldn’t tell him if her life depended on it.
‘What’s wrong, Alex?’
He shook his head. He wasn’t focused on her any more. He looked shocked.
‘It’s my family. Tell me where you’re staying. I’ll send you a message.’
She rattled off the name of the low-budget hotel where they were staying. He mumbled something to the man behind him.
‘I’m sorry. I need to go. I’ll send you a message later.’
He walked around to her side of the table and bent to kiss her. It was the briefest moment, but his lips came into contact with hers in the lightest of kisses. A brush like a butterfly’s wings.
And then he was gone.
Surrounded by black coats, disappearing down the street.
The fairytale was over.
January