Kissed in Paris by Juliette Sobanet Page A

possible?”
    “It is quite normal in France. There are grèves all the time.”
    “We have to leave though. We can’t waste any more time. What about renting a car?”
    “Not possible. They are on strike too. All the businesses relating to transportation are on strike. We are stuck.”
    I stared at Julien in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. “Why are you acting so calm?”
    “You think I am happy about this? What can I do though? It is not as though I am in control of the transportation situation in France,” he snapped.
    “But there has to be something we can do! Is there any way we can get to Lyon today?” I stood up and paced back and forth next to the window.
    “I have left a message for someone who may be able to pick us up and take us to Lyon. We will wait for a call back. If that does not work, the strike will only last for one day. We can take the train to Lyon first thing tomorrow morning. Claude has a girlfriend he stays with, so he will be there for at least a couple of days.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes, I am sure.”
    “Just like you were sure we would catch him in Giverny, and then in Annecy? I’m starting to think you’re not the best undercover agent after all. I mean, why can’t one of your fellow agents come and get us? How is it possible that we’re stuck here?”
    “I told you, I have left a message for the one person who is able to take us to Lyon, but the details of my job, of my connections are to be kept confidential. And if you want to insult my job abilities, that is fine. But I’d like to know, do you have a better plan?”
    “No, but still. This is insane. What are we supposed to do in the meantime?”
    The tense look in Julien’s eyes faded as they combed their way down my body. “I could come up with a few ideas.”
    I crossed my arms over my chest and stalked over to the window. “Oh my God. This cannot be happening to me.”
    Julien stood from the bed and grabbed his phone off the desk. “You American women—so uptight. Come, I take you to breakfast, and we can discuss ways to lighten you up.” Julien eyed the red dress lying over the back of the chair. “First, we need to get you some new clothes.”
    “In case you’re forgetting, I don’t have any money on me,” I told him, my insides cringing at the thought of wearing those scuffed-up black heels and that awful red dress for another second.
    “I will take you shopping. It will be fun.”
    I scrunched up my forehead. “Shopping? Fun? No man thinks shopping is fun.”
    “You mean no American man thinks shopping is fun. You forget, I am French. We are a very different breed. There are great shops in Annecy. Get dressed. It’s time for a real French breakfast.”
    “If you think I’m going to run around eating and shopping in some obscure town in the French Alps with a man I barely know, acting like everything is okay when my wedding is in five days, you’re insane! I’m going to find a way out of this city, with or without you.”
    Julien arched an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How?”
    I stared at him blankly. Clearly I had no plan. And my stomach was growling something fierce.
    “Fine. I’ll come with you. But only because I’m starving and I don’t see any point in sitting in this hotel room by myself.”
    After a quick shower, I tucked the piece of paper with the text message written on it back inside my bra, making a mental note to be sure to translate it as soon as possible.
    My two choices in apparel were either the skimpy red dress or the pajamas, and with either option, I would be sporting my three-inch black heels. As much as that damn dress made me think of Claude and what I may or may not have done with him two nights prior, I decided to wear it. I simply could not bring myself to walk around outside in pajama pants and high heels. After I finished in the bathroom, I found Julien lounging on the bed, flipping channels on the TV.
    He lifted his eyes from the screen, his chocolate brown gaze