Kissed in Paris (43 page)

No such luck.

I gripped my stomach as I followed the herd of passengers down the stairs, scanning the ground below for Julien.

And when I spotted a pair of deep brown eyes, a five o’clock shadow covering a set of defined cheek bones and a hint of a dimple that made me melt right there on the stairs, I couldn’t help but smile.

The minute our eyes met, he set off toward me, and there, in the middle of a crowded train station, we found each other.

Standing face to face with Julien, all words evaporated from my tongue. And as I saw the look in his eyes, I immediately knew that I’d made the right decision in coming back. I didn’t know what would happen, how long I would stay in France, or where any of this would lead me, but it didn’t matter. For once in my life, I’d followed my heart instead of my head, and as Julien took my hands in his and brushed my cheeks with his soft lips, I felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off my shoulders.

“I cannot believe it is you.” Julien’s eyes combed my face, his mouth forming a hesitant smile. “What are you doing here? What happened with your wedding?”

“We called it off,” I said. “In the end, you were right. I wasn’t in love with Paul. And as it turns out, I have feelings for someone else.”

Julien arched an eyebrow. “Oh? And who might this someone else be?”

I poked him in the ribs and laughed. “I think you probably have an idea.”

He grinned, his eyes still wide, his breath fast. “How long are you here for?”

I shrugged and shot him a flirty smile. “That depends.”

“On what? When you must return to work?”

“I’m not worried about work,” I said.

“
You
not worried about your job?”

“No, for once, I’m not. It
depends
on how long you can put up with me. I bought a one-way ticket.”

Julien finally broke into his sweet, goofy grin, then slid his arms around my waist, picked me up and kissed me smack on the lips right in the middle of the bustling train station.

“You are here to stay?” he asked after he’d pulled his lips from mine, his electrifying touch still lingering on my skin.

“Yes, I’m here to stay.”

He squeezed me one more time and kissed me again on the cheek. “I
am
sorry about the wedding. You are okay though?”

“Let’s not pretend like you’re
that
sorry.”

“I am trying to be sensitive and see if you are okay, and here you go again assuming I have bad intentions,” Julien said, stifling a laugh.

“You’re impossible.” I shook my head, still unable to wipe the smile from my face. “But we can argue later. We have a painting to find.”

Julien took my bag from me and slung it over his shoulder as we set off in the same direction we had just days before, yet things were now so,
so
different.

“So, tell me,” he said as we left the station and waited at a crosswalk. “
How
do you know where the painting is? And
where
is it? Because I have been here for one day now, and I know who has it, but I still cannot find it.”

“You know who has it?” I asked as we wound through the familiar cobblestone streets and past all of the charming sidewalk cafés, where just days before we’d been running from the police.

“Yes. You obviously remember the man with the tattoos and his girlfriend in the lingerie store?”

I didn’t miss the glimpse of flirtatiousness dancing around Julien’s eyes. “How could I forget?” I said.

“I have not forgotten about it either. In fact, I have thought about it many times.”

I smacked him in the arm. “Of course you have. Just get on with the story.”

He snickered. “Okay, okay.” Julien looked to either side of us, then lowered his voice. “I went to the prison and threatened . . . I mean,
talked
to my brother. He told me that he gave
them
the painting because he knew the police were close to catching him. The plan was that Ralph, the man with the tattoos, and his girlfriend, Sara, would take the painting abroad and sell it to a museum, and then they would split the money three ways. And you remember Ralph’s sister, Marie? The woman with the long, black hair?”

“Mmhmm,” I mumbled. How could I have forgotten
her
?

“Marie was telling the truth that day. She does not know anything about the painting. It appears that they are hiding it from her. So it is not in her apartment, and over the past day, I have been trying to get into Ralph’s apartment too, but either he or his girlfriend has always been home. And I found out through Marie that Ralph and Sara are leaving the country tonight. Marie just thinks they are going on vacation though. She has no idea.”

“Is Ralph’s girlfriend extremely short? With long blond hair?” I asked.

“Yes, but how do you know that? You did not see her that day in the lingerie store. Did you?”

“No, I didn’t see her that day. But I saw her the night before.”

When Julien’s expression remained a giant question mark, I stopped walking and turned to him. “This is probably going to sound really strange to you, but I need you to trust me, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. So how do you know her?”

“The night that we arrived in Annecy, when I followed you to the apartment?”

“Yes, when you should
not
have followed me?” he interjected, stepping to the side to allow the throngs of tourists to pass by.

“Right. Well, after I watched you sneak into the apartment, I saw this woman with long red hair, just like mine. And when she turned her head, her face looked exactly like my mom. I don’t know what came over me, but I had to follow her. It was like I couldn’t control myself. But she was going too fast and I couldn’t keep up that well, and then finally, when I followed her around a corner, she was gone. Like she’d disappeared into thin air or something. So I was standing there, feeling like an idiot, because at that point I had no idea where I was or how I would find my way back, when this really tiny girl with long blond hair came out of a garage, checked all around to make sure no one was looking and locked it up. Then she saw me when she was walking away, and she jumped. Like she was hiding something.”

Julien’s eyes widened. “Where is this garage?”

I shifted my weight, feeling a stab of nerves in my chest. “That’s the thing. I can’t tell you street names or anything, but if you can take me back to Marie’s apartment, to the red door, I’m hoping I’ll remember the way.”

Julien smiled, but I could still detect a hint of doubt in his eyes.

“I know this sounds insane,” I said again, desperate for him to believe me, “but you’re saying that the girlfriend is really short with long, blond hair. There aren’t that many people in France with long, blond hair. Almost everyone here is a brunette. And when I say short, I mean like not more than five feet tall.”

He scratched his chin and nodded, the doubt leaving his eyes. “Yes, I think we are talking about the same woman.”

“I’m telling you, I just have this feeling that I’m right. Because seeing that woman who looked like my mom . . . well, it was like she was leading me there for a reason. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. I just thought I was losing my mind, but now . . .”

“I trust you, Chloe,” Julien said, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I will take you to the red door. We must not waste any more time though.
On y va
?”

I smiled. “
On y va
.”

Julien took my hand and led me back to the bubbling stream that ran through the center of town, where once again I glimpsed the sparkling blue lake and those amazing mountains. And now, with the weather a little cooler, a white layer of snow capped a few of the highest peaks, making them all the more stunning.

We made our way down the cobblestone streets, underneath that same stone archway I remembered from before, and there it was. The red door.

“Okay, this is it,” Julien announced as he peered both ways down the road. “But we must move quickly and be discreet. We do not want to run into Ralph or Sara until we have a plan. Do you remember which way you went from here?”

I closed my eyes and mentally transported myself back to that night where I’d seen my mother’s face so clearly. I’d been trying to recreate that image for the past day, hoping that when I arrived back at this spot, my mom would reappear or that somehow she would guide me back to that place.

But when I opened my eyes, I realized I didn’t need her to show me the way. I already knew it.

I pulled Julien’s hand and sped down the same path I’d gone before, but this time with certainty and confidence. After winding through a maze of streets, all of the stone buildings looking the same, goose bumps suddenly prickled the back of my neck, and I knew we were close.

I led Julien around a corner, the last corner where I was sure I’d seen the woman with the auburn hair.

But my heart dropped as we gazed across the street. What I hadn’t noticed the first time I’d stood here was that the entire road was lined with small garages, all of them with the same silvery-gray door, the same padded lock on the bottom.

“Are we here?” Julien asked, his eyes combing what must’ve been at least ten gray doors, all clones of each other.

I nodded, the disappointment setting in. “Yes, but I don’t know which one. I only remembered seeing one that night, not all of these. What are we going to do? Break into each one?”

But before Julien had a chance to respond, one of the doors began to open.

***

Julien pulled me off to the side of a building where we hid in the shadows, waiting to see who would emerge from the garage.

The door was completely raised now, but there were no lights inside the space, so we couldn’t see who or what was lurking on the other side.

We’ve come so far, please let it be the right one,
I pleaded silently, hoping that if my mom had led us to this point, she wouldn’t stop now.

A bulging, tattooed arm appeared. My breath quickened, and I noticed that Julien’s did too.

This was it. This was so it.
Thank you, Mom!

And just as Ralph’s head popped out of the dark space, a miniature blue car sped up the skinny road and screeched to a halt right in front of him, a wisp of long blond hair blowing out the open window.

Julien pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, typed something on the keypad, then thrust it into my hands. “Type in the street name and press send,” he whispered. “And no matter what, don’t move. Okay?”

“Got it.” Adrenaline surged through me as I craned my neck to see the blue street sign tacked onto the building across the road. Trying to steady my trembling hands, I typed in the street name and pressed “send.”

When I lifted my gaze, I spotted Ralph and his girlfriend lugging a giant rectangular object wrapped in a blue blanket into the backseat of the car, but I didn’t see Julien anywhere.

Before I had a chance to worry about where Julien had gone or how he was planning on stopping them from driving away with his painting, a cool cylinder plunged against my temple and a sweaty arm wrapped around my neck. My heart thudded in my chest and tears immediately sprang to my eyes.

“Don’t say a fucking word,” a female voice whispered in my ear as she pushed me forward toward the car. I recognized her accent immediately—it was Marie, the Australian Seductress.