Sleeping With Paris (26 page)

And later that night, as I curled up in bed, I thought about how wonderful it was that Marc and I had established a real connection. It was the first time in a while that I’d made a solid male friend.

I knew though that while my friendship with Marc was fulfilling some aspects of that strong urge I felt to have a man in my life, he was still just a friend, and I had other needs that could not be met in a friendship—specifically, the need for a man’s touch. And as much as thoughts of Jeff still haunted me from time to time, it wasn’t
his
touch I was craving anymore.

It was Luc’s.

***

February in Paris rolled around in a haze of rain, snow and nasty cold weather. My consumption of fattening, delicious French pastries was at an all-time high. So now, instead of tightening my belt buckle so my jeans wouldn’t fall off of me, I had to release the top button by the end of each day so I wouldn’t have to suck it all in.

It was totally worth it.

Just after I’d submitted the final draft of my article to
Bella Magazine
, Fiona and Lexi had  finally arrived back in Paris. Despite the wintery weather, the three of us planned a fun night out on the town to catch up and to celebrate me finishing my article. We met at La Suite, a posh club off of the Champs-Élysées, near the George V hotel. It was the kind of swanky place where you would get turned down if you weren’t dressed to the nines. Luckily, Lexi had told us to spice up our attire, or else Fiona and I may have gotten the boot. I usually didn’t go to places like this. They were overpriced and too stuffy in my opinion, but tonight, I didn’t care so much. I was happy to have the girls back in town and was dying to meet some new guys . . . and take my mind off the one I'd let go.

Inside the neon-lit club, we ordered a couple of dirty martinis and squeezed into a cushy black booth.

“So how was your trip? Aren’t you so glad to be back?” I asked Fiona over the booming techno music that blared from the speakers.

“It was great, and . . . well, I have mixed feelings about coming back, actually,” she replied, looking weary-eyed.

“Don’t even tell me. You totally slept with Andrew didn’t you?” Lexi chimed in as her usual devious grin spread across her full, red lips. With smoky black eyeliner, a glint in her eye, and a slinky black dress hugging her body, I found no traces of the broken girl I'd heard crying in the bathroom on Christmas morning. It seemed Lexi was back to normal.

Fiona’s cheeks turned a shade of red I hadn’t seen since she slept with Matt, the English rugby player. “Um . . .”

“Come on, it’s no big deal. I used to sleep with my ex all the time,” Lexi assured her.

“Andrew and I are back together,” she smiled hesitantly, expecting a choir of disapproval.

I couldn’t believe she had gotten back together with him after he broke her heart and was with some other girl all year. And what about Marc? “Wow, so he broke up with that girl, and then he asked you back?” I asked.

“Something like that,” she said, her eyes darting toward the dance floor.

“He did break up with her, right?” Lexi asked before taking a huge gulp of her martini.

“Oh yeah, they’re not together anymore. It just didn’t happen in that order. We kind of . . . um . . . slept together first. Then he broke up with her.”

“That a girl!” Lexi laughed as she clinked her glass with Fiona’s.

Fiona relaxed back into the booth. “Yeah, I know it wasn’t necessarily the right thing to do, and I know I
promised
I wouldn’t do it, but you know how it goes. A few days after I talked to you Charlotte, Andrew invited me over to his place. He cooked me this really fancy dinner, one thing led to another, and before I knew it, I was back in his bed.”

“How was it?” I asked, a little jealous that she had been having sex for the past month when I'd been lying alone in my room with visions of male strippers dancing in my head.

An intense expression splashed over Fiona's face as she took another sip of her drink. “It was
so
good . . . the best it’s ever been actually.”

“Good for you honey, you totally deserve it. So then what? Did he break up with that girl right after you slept together?” Lexi asked.

“Yup, he called her the next morning and broke it off for good.”

“Well . . . congratulations!” I said, faking my enthusiasm.

“Thanks. It’s brilliant that we’re back together, but it was really hard to leave him. I mean, we spent a whole month together, and now we have to be apart for four more months.”

“Yeah, but you’ll be here with us in Paris, so it won’t be that bad,” I assured her.

“I know, I didn’t mean that I’m not happy to be back here with you guys, but I’m going to miss him, and . . .”

“And the sex,” Lexi finished for her.

 “Yeah, that too,” Fiona giggled.

I'd had enough relationship talk. Fiona was back with Andrew, and that jerk would probably just hurt her again. There was nothing I could do about that though.

“Want some more drinks?” I asked the girls.

“Yeah, another martini—this is really good,” Fiona said, already looking tipsy.

“I’ll get the next round. Be right back.” As I squeezed past a group of college-aged girls, their tall, thin legs protruding from their skimpy dresses and their perfectly manicured feet wrapped in fancy stilettos, I heard a guy call my name. I turned around to find Marc grinning at me.

“Marc, oh my gosh! I can’t believe you’re here.”

He placed his hand on my waist as he leaned in and kissed my cheeks. “Are you going to get a drink?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting a few drinks for Fiona and Lexi. They’re sitting over there,” I said as I pointed over to our booth.

I noticed Marc’s gaze resting on Fiona and immediately felt bad for him. He was such a great guy. Why did she have to go and get back with her sleazy ex?

“What are you having? Let me,” he offered.

“That’s so nice, but really, you don’t have to.”
But please do
, I thought. Paying for a round of martinis was going to be expensive. And I wasn't exactly swimming in cash after forking over that cover charge.

“No, I insist. What are you drinking?”

“Martinis.”

Marc grabbed my hand and led me to the bar. He was being really touchy-feely, which surprised me until he stumbled on the way to the bar, and I realized he was drunk. I let out a quiet giggle as he stumbled once more, then paid for our martinis. What would Madame Rousseau think?

“Look who I found at the bar?” I said to Lexi and Fiona as Marc handed them their drinks.

Fiona’s cheeks blushed as she met eyes with Marc. Uh oh. I
knew
she still liked him.

“Marc!” Lexi yelped as she stood up to kiss his cheeks. “Here, have a seat.” She scooted over to make room for Marc in the booth, then leaned toward him, exposing her cleavage.

“I haven’t seen
you
in a while,” she chirped.

What was Lexi talking about? She’d only met him briefly at the bar that one night when she’d been all over Benoît, and she knew that Marc was interested in Fiona.

Marc gave her a goofy, drunk smile. “I think I have only met you one time? Is that right?”

Lexi leaned closer to Marc, actually resting her right breast on his arm. “Mmhmm, but we should hang out more.”

Fiona gave me a what-the-hell look, which I echoed back. Even though Fiona had just told us she was back in bliss with Andrew, Lexi knew that Fiona had liked Marc not so long ago. And, in the Girlfriend Etiquette Handbook, until Lexi had a conversation with Fiona, clearing the way for her to hit on Marc, it wasn’t technically okay.

And Marc, while he was trying his best to give Fiona some attention, was totally mesmerized by Lexi and her boobs. Who could blame him? She was a total knock-out, and she was throwing herself at him. She was one of those friends who was difficult to go out with because no matter how pretty you were, she was prettier, and all of the guys would inevitably flock to her. The problem was that she knew it and didn’t hesitate to use it to her advantage.

Fiona gulped down her martini, then inched closer to Marc until he had Fiona draped over one knee and Lexi dry humping the other. As I sipped my drink and watched the competition unfold, I wanted to smack all three of them. Why did everything have to be all about a guy? I knew I was one to talk, but still, why couldn't the four of us spend a nice night out as friends? Why did Lexi have to jump all over every man with a pulse? And if Fiona hadn't gotten back together with Andrew, she could actually
be
with Marc instead of fighting this immature fight with Lexi.

Before I had a chance to snap them all out of their ridiculousness, Lexi grabbed Marc’s hand and pulled him up to the dance floor.

Fiona stayed silent as she watched the two of them grind all over each other.

“Let's go dance,” I said to Fiona, hoping to snap her out of her jealous trance.

“I'm not really in the mood,” she said before downing the last of her drink.

I turned to face her in the booth. “You still like Marc, don't you?”

She hesitated, her eyes darting from the dying couple back to me. “Okay, fine. I'm a little jealous. Lexi is . . . well, I know this is going to sound awful, but sometimes she's a sodding slut!” Fiona's strong English accent deepened the angrier she became.

“I mean, why does she have to throw herself all over every guy? I know she's our friend, but you know how she is, Charlotte. Marc won't mean anything to her. She'll just sleep with him and be done with him.”

I'd originally decided to keep my opinions to myself, but with Fiona's heart so clearly hung up on Marc, I needed to say something. “I knew you still liked Marc. So what are you doing back with Andrew? Do you really think this is a good decision, Fiona?”

Fiona's emerald eyes flashed underneath the strobe light. “Yes, Charlotte, I do. Just because I'm annoyed with the situation tonight doesn't mean I should break up with Andrew. We have a history together. And I can't just throw that away over Marc, who clearly can't even keep any semblance of self-control when Lexi, The Sex Goddess, casts her spell over him.”

“But just last year, Andrew was willing to throw your relationship away without a second thought. And honestly, what do you think he's going to be doing while you're in Paris the rest of the year?”

Fiona's cheeks flushed crimson. “Just because your fiancé and your father are cheaters does not mean that all men cheat.”

Her tone stung, but the alcohol fueled my fire. Why was Fiona being so naïve? “Didn't you just tell us that Andrew cheated on his girlfriend with
you
only a few weeks ago? So how is that any different?”

Fiona avoided my gaze, then huffed out a breath as she reached for her purse. “I'm really not in the mood for this. I'm going home.”

I grabbed Fiona's arm. “Listen, I'm sorry. I just don't want you to get hurt, that's all.”

Fiona jerked her arm away. “I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, do you really think you should be . . . “ Fiona trailed off as she bit her lip.

“What were you going to say?”

“No, forget it. It's not worth it.”

“No, really. What were you going to say?”

Fiona sighed, her eyes suddenly appearing tired. “All I was going to say is that you can't spend your whole life running away from relationships, Charlotte. Hiding from love like it's the plague. If you do, you'll end up alone and desperate.” She nodded toward the dance floor where Lexi was rubbing her butt in Marc’s crotch and reaching around to massage his thighs. “You'll end up like Lexi.”

Fiona turned and left me alone in the bar, her words ringing loudly in my ears.

I drank the last of my martini and let the alcohol wash their truth away from my consciousness. I didn't want to hear it.

***

Back in my room, I poured myself a huge glass of red wine and cuddled up on my bed, unable to erase Fiona's words from my mind. She was right. I
was
alone. I
was
desperate. And even though when I first met Lexi, I'd believed I'd wanted her life of glitz and glamour, hot guys and steamy sex, I was beginning to see the emptiness of that lifestyle. And while Lexi would never admit to it, I knew she felt it. That hole. That void that comes with being alone, with never letting anyone in. I'd heard it in her cries on Christmas morning. Those weren't the cries of a drunk, sobbing girl. Those were the cries of someone who, deep down, was broken and afraid to love.

I shuddered to think that Fiona had seen that same girl in me tonight. That maybe she'd seen her in me all year long, and she'd just been too sweet to tell me.

Real friends tell you the truth though, even when it's difficult to hear. And that's what Fiona had done tonight. She'd held the mirror up, and although I didn't want to look, I couldn't help but see the broken-down, fearful face staring back at me.

As I opened my laptop, I felt a pang of sadness as I thought about Katie back at home. She
was a true friend too, and she always had been. Yet, all year I'd been jealous of her relationship with Joe, meanwhile touting on and on about how relationships are doomed and the smartest thing a girl can do is to avoid them altogether.