Paris Cravings: A Paris & Pastry Novel by Kimberley Montpetit

him in a year instead of just Spring Break. I watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck. As if bouquets of mistletoe hung above her head everywhere she went now.
    Mathew’s glance skirted the bustling mall, and that’s when his eyes met mine.
    His entire body froze and he quickly straightened, but Parvati’s hand clung to his arm. Mathew’s face drained of color and he gave me a weak smile, but Parvati was in his face, talking, jabbering, and pulling him to the storefront window.
    My mouth went dry. I wished there was a bench underneath my trembling legs.
    “ Yeah, it’s Chloe, your girlfriend!” I wanted to scream. Or did you forget I exist? I’ve only been gone to Florida a few days to visit my grandfather, not a month.
    It should have been me beside Mathew. Me kissing him hello after Spring Break. I thought about the phone calls we’d exchanged since I’d returned, but this was the first time I’d actually seen him.
    For some weird reason we were failing to connect.
    Like destiny was conspiring against us.
     

     
    I didn’t think it was possible to get depressed while in Paris.
    Well, you can. In spades.
    Turns out, Mireille works part-time at the pastry shop after school. Yes, it’s June and school is out back home, but here in France, schools don’t get out for their summer holiday until later.
    On the wall along the staircase of the Dupré apartment I notice a photo of Mireille and Jean-Paul at a school dance. He looks amazing in a tuxedo. I try not to look at her, but it’s hard not to notice the deep lavender dress, the corsage, her hair in ringlets and flowers. I can’t help admiring her at the same time I’m so jealous I can’t stand it.
    Suddenly she’s everywhere. I comment on a beautiful scarf hanging on the coat rack and am told it belongs to Mireille. I drool over Madame Dupré’s incredible beignets and discover they’re Mireille’s favorite, too.
    She has a huge presence in their lives. I also figure out in my limited conversation with Madame Dupré that Mireille and Jean-Paul have been dating for months and have known each other for years. Their families go “way back.” How charming.
    Then Madame Dupré tells me—with lots of hand gesturing—that Jean-Paul and Mireille are attending an amateur band concert in the park. Tonight . The day I practically break my leg jumping out of a moving taxi so I can run back here and satisfy my craving to be around Jean-Paul—I mean—learn the deep, dark secrets of French pastry making! Now I get to spend my evening hanging out with his mother. I try not to whimper at the thought of Jean-Paul and Mireille together.
    Instead I focus on the fact that Jean-Paul is going to take me to the American Embassy so I can get a new passport before he meets Mireille. My To Do list consists of finding/getting a new passport, getting to the airport, and then going home. Leaving Paris forever. The thought makes my soul ache. Jean-Paul holding Mireille’s hand makes me ache with a whole new meaning.
    I don’t want a To Do list. I’d like to forget about my old life for a few more days. Is Mathew really waiting for me? The persistent thought won’t leave my brain, but he promised . I still feel so betrayed after what happened, but I’m not even sure I should be. Perhaps Parvati really did take him by surprise. On the other hand, when I talk to him on the phone he seems distant and unfocused, avoiding the topic of us .
    Maybe he’s still having major guilt, but maybe I’ve just been gone too long. Before I left for France, I wondered how I could stand not to be with him for ten days. Now I’m getting used to not being around him or talking to him every two hours. I should be missing him more, not less.
    The strange thing is, I also feel a tiny bit betrayed by Jean-Paul, which I know is completely ridiculous. I only met him eight hours ago, and yet I’ve spent every moment of the last eight hours at his side. Or, rather, in many ways he’s been at