too well. “Just a little. I had some going away drinks with the girls.”
“Right.” She sounded confused. “I just wanted to make sure you don’t need anything before you leave.”
Jen was a sweet sister. She was always looking out for me, even now that we were both grown adults. Our mother traveled a lot for work, and with no father in the picture, she was pretty much the only person that ever cared about my well-being. I appreciated the concern, but it had been in overdrive lately.
A year earlier, Jen had moved in with her boyfriend, leaving me more or less on my own. I knew she felt guilty about that, but I wanted her to live her life. It was part of the reason I had decided to go so far away.
“I’m good, Jen. Just need to pack a few more things.”
I looked down guiltily at my empty suitcase. If Jen was here with me, she would have everything packed in less than fifteen minutes.
“Okay. I probably won’t speak to you before you leave tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you to have fun. Stay out of trouble. Learn something. And please, come back in one piece.”
“You worry too much, sister,” I said, smiling fondly.
“That’s my job.” She sounded resigned to that fact.
I wished she was there so I could give her a big hug. Instead, I said, “Stop talking to me and go kiss your man.”
“I love you, Cam.” She sounded like she was about to cry.
“I love you, too, Jen. I’ll call you when I get there.”
“Do me a favor?” Jen sounded even more quiet than usual.
“Anything.”
“Have an amazing time.”
That was an easy enough request. “Consider it done.”
SEPTEMBER
When people first met me, they assumed that I loved being the center of attention. I was the first one to admit that I was often loud and crass, oversharing and prying. But usually that was only because I was covering up for how awkward I felt. I would rather overshare than sit in awkward silence.
But that was a problem now that I was in a different country where I didn’t know the language.
For as long as I could remember, I had wanted to be a fashion designer. Buying clothes in a mall bored me, so I started making my own. For my tenth birthday, Mom gave me a sewing machine. In high school, I designed my friends’ prom dresses. So when my mother told me that one of her friends needed an intern in Paris for a few months, I jumped at the chance.
It wasn’t until after I accepted the position that I really started to think about what that would mean for me. Yes, it was an amazing opportunity. But it was also absolutely terrifying. By the time I landed in Paris, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I had flashes from the movie Taken running through my head.
But Paris turned out to not be quite as scary as that. I took a cab from the airport to the apartment I would be living in for the next few months. My mother was a famous stylist and had worked in the fashion industry for over two decades. It worked out well for me because she had connections all over the word. In addition to getting me a job, she had another friend that was on a safari in Africa for a few months and had generously agreed to rent me her place while she was gone.
With all of the stars aligned in my favor, I had to believe that everything was going to work out. It helped when I learned that the apartment I was renting was in one of the nicest parts of town. My cab driver spoke in heavily accented English as he commented on the neighborhood.
The apartment was just as nice as the neighborhood. It was only one bedroom, but that was all I needed. When I swung open the French doors and stepped onto the old, metal balcony, I was amazed to see the Eiffel Tower far in the distance.
My job started right away, before I even had a chance to get settled. Another stroke of luck meant that my office was in walking distance of my apartment, so at least I didn’t have to figure out public transportation immediately.
I woke up early for my first day
“Right.” She sounded confused. “I just wanted to make sure you don’t need anything before you leave.”
Jen was a sweet sister. She was always looking out for me, even now that we were both grown adults. Our mother traveled a lot for work, and with no father in the picture, she was pretty much the only person that ever cared about my well-being. I appreciated the concern, but it had been in overdrive lately.
A year earlier, Jen had moved in with her boyfriend, leaving me more or less on my own. I knew she felt guilty about that, but I wanted her to live her life. It was part of the reason I had decided to go so far away.
“I’m good, Jen. Just need to pack a few more things.”
I looked down guiltily at my empty suitcase. If Jen was here with me, she would have everything packed in less than fifteen minutes.
“Okay. I probably won’t speak to you before you leave tomorrow, but I wanted to tell you to have fun. Stay out of trouble. Learn something. And please, come back in one piece.”
“You worry too much, sister,” I said, smiling fondly.
“That’s my job.” She sounded resigned to that fact.
I wished she was there so I could give her a big hug. Instead, I said, “Stop talking to me and go kiss your man.”
“I love you, Cam.” She sounded like she was about to cry.
“I love you, too, Jen. I’ll call you when I get there.”
“Do me a favor?” Jen sounded even more quiet than usual.
“Anything.”
“Have an amazing time.”
That was an easy enough request. “Consider it done.”
SEPTEMBER
When people first met me, they assumed that I loved being the center of attention. I was the first one to admit that I was often loud and crass, oversharing and prying. But usually that was only because I was covering up for how awkward I felt. I would rather overshare than sit in awkward silence.
But that was a problem now that I was in a different country where I didn’t know the language.
For as long as I could remember, I had wanted to be a fashion designer. Buying clothes in a mall bored me, so I started making my own. For my tenth birthday, Mom gave me a sewing machine. In high school, I designed my friends’ prom dresses. So when my mother told me that one of her friends needed an intern in Paris for a few months, I jumped at the chance.
It wasn’t until after I accepted the position that I really started to think about what that would mean for me. Yes, it was an amazing opportunity. But it was also absolutely terrifying. By the time I landed in Paris, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I had flashes from the movie Taken running through my head.
But Paris turned out to not be quite as scary as that. I took a cab from the airport to the apartment I would be living in for the next few months. My mother was a famous stylist and had worked in the fashion industry for over two decades. It worked out well for me because she had connections all over the word. In addition to getting me a job, she had another friend that was on a safari in Africa for a few months and had generously agreed to rent me her place while she was gone.
With all of the stars aligned in my favor, I had to believe that everything was going to work out. It helped when I learned that the apartment I was renting was in one of the nicest parts of town. My cab driver spoke in heavily accented English as he commented on the neighborhood.
The apartment was just as nice as the neighborhood. It was only one bedroom, but that was all I needed. When I swung open the French doors and stepped onto the old, metal balcony, I was amazed to see the Eiffel Tower far in the distance.
My job started right away, before I even had a chance to get settled. Another stroke of luck meant that my office was in walking distance of my apartment, so at least I didn’t have to figure out public transportation immediately.
I woke up early for my first day
Similar Books
