His Ransom 5(7)

“I see. Well, then, let me lend you my own personal taxi.”

“Oh, no!” I cried. “I couldn’t ask that of you. I already have a subway pass for the day anyway.” I fumbled through the words. None of the rich men Jake rubbed shoulders with would have any idea about taking the subway, I realized too late.

“I insist.” Jean-Luc led me through the hallway and pointed to a car parked just on the other side of the street. “Here, you see that black car at the curb? He will take you wherever you ask.”

“But I—”

“Please. I have other things to take care of here before I leave for my dinner. And thank you again for the pleasure of your company today. I much enjoyed our meeting.”

I nodded and blurted out a few thank yous before heading over to the black Lexus. I slid into the leather seat in the back.

“Mademoiselle?”

“Oui. Uh… Jean-Luc said that you could take me?”

“Yes, miss.” The driver switched into flawless English without skipping a beat. “Where would you like to go?”

“Um.” It was too early to head back to the hotel. And I was hungry, anyway. My stomach growled in agreement. “Do you know a good spot for lunch?”

The driver looked back at me, amusement in his eyes

“But of course. This is Paris. I will take you to the best cafe.”

“Merci,” I said, practicing what little French I knew. As the car pulled away from the curb, I saw the pyramid of the Louvre sparkling through the stone archways of the courtyard. I thought of Jean-Luc’s dark eyes, and that strange feeling of familiarity came over me again. I shook it off and pressed my face against the window, so that I wouldn’t miss a single thing.



Jean-Luc’s driver dropped me off in front of a cafe overlooking another park with elaborately carved fountains and vast expanses of green lawns. Even in the crisp air of winter, families walked through the park and I saw two boys racing sailboats in a fountain. I paid what seemed like an exorbitant amount of money for something called duck confit, but it was the most delicious thing I’d ever eaten in my life.

I spent the rest of the day wandering through the park and people-watching, something Jake had assured me was the national pastime of France.

I was struck by how much seeing these families made me miss my own mom and dad. I’d been so caught up in the hectic pace of New York City that I’d almost forgotten how nice it could be to just hang out with family.

Jake didn’t know anything about that.

The thought came into my mind unbidden, and I immediately felt bad for thinking it. Jake was an orphan. His mom and dad and brother were all dead. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know much about being part of a family. He had been a kid, only five years old, when everything was taken away from him.

Will he ever want a family with you?

I frowned and shook off the question. Jake and I had only been dating for… gosh, a month? And while I felt strongly for him, I didn’t know exactly what his feelings for me were. I’d stumbled into his life accidentally, after all. Maybe he was just having a fun time with me before moving on to another girl.

“That’s not true,” I said out loud. I stood up from the park bench where I was sitting. A lady who had been feeding the pigeons looked over at me like I was the crazy one. Well, I was talking to myself. I shrugged and walked off in the direction of the hotel. It was only five blocks away, and I wasn’t about to spend any more of Jake’s money on a cab. I could hoof it.

As I walked, I thought about what Jake had said to me. He was so warm and comforting when he wanted to be. And he had brought me all the way to Paris with him. That meant something, didn’t it?

Not to him. It’s no big deal for him.

I frowned and walked faster. The big facade of our hotel building loomed higher as I walked down the street. Marble gargoyles hung off of the corners of the old building. One of them had a bat’s face, and it was sticking a tongue out. I stuck my tongue back out at it as I walked up the steps.

I took the elevator up to our floor, my heart thumping. I couldn’t wait to see Jake again. I knew that seeing his face would be a comfort. Just the thought of his arms around me made me feel warmer inside.

The elevator doors opened and I walked out, a bounce in my step. I turned the corner of the hallway quickly and stopped in my tracks.

There was a girl standing outside of our room. She was slim, blonde, wearing a dark pencil skirt and a neatly fitted suit jacket over it. Her hair was tied back with a clip to one side and as she laughed, she swept her hand back through the long strands to push it over her shoulder.

I heard the low timbre of Jake’s voice, and then—oh, Lord—he was leaning forward, kissing her on the cheek. I saw her hand reach out and touch his chest briefly as she said something, and then she laughed, turning my way.