A-List Kiss: A Laugh-Out-Loud Romantic Comedy Page 13

  I showered, did my hair and makeup, and chose a pair of tailored black pants and a long-sleeved dark gray blouse for the day’s outfit. They were work clothes, but I’d noticed everyone walking around the autumn-hued Paris streets wore dark colors, and I liked the idea of blending in. I’d probably be exploring the city on my own again. I wondered if I’d run into Special Agent Matthew. I was almost looking forward to it.

  I was putting on my shoes when the front door banged open. I jumped.

  Gavin was shouting, but I could barely understand what he was saying. His words were garbled. Was he drunk? Or had he been jumped by Matthew’s bad guys? He nasally over enunciated, “Yes, I’m aware of that, Patricia! But it’s perfectly clear you have no idea what you’re doing. Get me Anthony.”

  A clatter of dropped items rattled on the marble floor, followed by muttered cursing. I stepped into the hallway, and a white paper-wrapped package hit me squarely in the stomach. I doubled over with a “humph!” more from surprise than pain.

  Gavin’s nasally garble said, “Eden, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you.” Gavin abandoned the packages that he’d been kicking across the floor and lumbered to my side.

  “I’m fine.” I still leaned over defensively. “What’s all this?”

  Gavin took my arm, and I looked up into his face. “Yikes! What happened?”

  He covered his face with both of his hands and bleated nasally, “Don’t look at me! You can’t see me like this!” and turned away.

  But it was too late. I’d already seen the monstrosity that had taken the place of his gorgeous nose. “What happened?” I repeated. I led the cowering Gavin to the couch, trying to tug his arms away from his face as we went.

  Finally I succeeded. His beautiful ski-slope storybook prince nose was four times its usual size and, well, red and lumpy. I wanted to cry, but Gavin beat me to it.

  “There was an accident,” he choked out past the tears, his usually deep and silky voice now nasally and wheezy. He turned his head away from me and swiped at his eyes while making sniffling sounds.

  What kind of accident targets perfect noses? Oh, the humanity.

  “I was getting a facial in the hotel spa and I thought I’d treat myself to an all-natural organic nose wax—”

  “Nose wax?” I interrupted.

  Gavin made an impatient sound and gestured with his hand toward his nose. “Nose wax. When you get your nostril hair waxed.”

  “Right. Of course. As one naturally would.” I put my hand to my nose. I’d never had one of those.

  “Apparently the all-natural wax they use is beeswax and I have an allergy to beeswax!”

  “That’s terrible! Shouldn’t I take you to the hospital?” I leaned forward, trying to get Gavin to look at me. He finally did, and my breath caught.

  His usually clear blue eyes were shot through with red blood vessels, and there were dark patches on the tender skin below where he’d obviously been rubbing. “I’ve already been to the hospital. They gave me a shot of Benadryl. I’m out of danger.” He leaned back on the couch and heaved a deep breath. “But it’s going to take time for the swelling in my nose and face to go down. Patricia got some face creams and aloe and stuff to reduce the swelling faster.” He gestured to the packages that were strewn across the floor of the entryway. “Nothing is working.” He gave full rein to his sobs then, tears streaming down his blotchy red cheeks unchecked.

  I scooted closer, put my arms around him, and made reassuring sounds. “It’ll be okay. It’s just going to take some time.” I patted his back softly.

  He leaned on me and sobbed, dripping tears and mucus on my arm. I tried to grab the tissues from the side table, but he clung to me, not letting go and giving in to the sobs. I stretched until I reached the box. I balled up a few tissues and wiped his dripping face, treading gently around the nose that now took up most of it. He took the ball of tissues from me and sat back.

  “I’m so sorry.” He breathed deeply and pulled himself together.

  “It’s okay. I understand. I’d be upset too.” Although not this upset. He hadn’t shed a tear in Elegy in Autumn when the hordes attacked him. And even in Inside Fascination when they freaking killed his wife right in front of him, did he act like this? No. There was no sobbing. No whining. Just a close-up of a single tear tracking down his cheek before he turned around and killed every mobster from New York to Chicago. But, unbelievably, a swollen nose from a facial gone wrong was bringing him to his knees.

  “Let me get you some ice.” I started to get the ice bucket from the counter, but Gavin grabbed my arm.

  “Ice? What will ice do?”

  “Umm…ice brings down the swelling.”

  He jumped from the couch with surprising energy and hurried to the mirror, holding his face a mere inch from its surface to examine his skin at close range. As he spoke, a note of condescension tinged his words. “It seems to me that ice would freeze the cells of my face and create more patches of irritated redness.” He turned and spared me a look past his nose. “And I only use the best, most natural products on my face.” He returned to studying his reflection.

  I rolled my eyes. “Ice is frozen water. You can’t get more natural than water.”

  “Hotel water,” he said with disdain.

  The door to the suite banged open. Anthony and Patricia bounded into the room, both out of breath.

  “We’ve got another cream for you to try.” Anthony wedged himself in front of Patricia.

  “We!” Patricia insisted, grasping Anthony’s coat from behind and struggling forward like she was trying to keep him from winning the foot race to Gavin’s side.

  “I said ‘we.’” Anthony shot Patricia an annoyed scowl, and she dropped his coat.

  “Oh.” She edged forward so she was standing in front of Anthony. “The doctor said this should calm the inflammation after a few hours.” She plucked the tube of ointment from Anthony who grabbed it back and hurried to Gavin. Patricia raced to his other side.

  They assisted Gavin to the couch I was sitting on like his legs were broken, shooing me out of the way so they could flank both sides of him. I was less annoyed than I should’ve been. I’d had enough of the circus sideshow for today and didn’t feel the need to compete in the ongoing death battle for Gavin’s attention.

  “We’ll just help get this cream on your nose, and then you can rest.” Anthony opened the tube of ointment and squeezed a large amount onto his hand. Like a young child, Gavin presented his face for his medicine.

  Not to be outdone, Patricia said, “Here, let me help.” She smoothed some of the goop around.

  “Well, it looks like you two have this in hand.” I backed away.

  “Sorry, Eden,” Gavin said in his nasally whine, the good host returning.

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. You just get some rest.” I looked at the goop-spreading twins. “You guys’ll help him to the bedroom for his nap, won’t you?”

  Anthony and Patricia looked at me with identical expressions of derision that clearly said they’d been taking care of him longer than I had, honey, so move along. I believed their faces and left them to it, deciding to get out of the suite and into a change of scenery.

  I wandered the ornate halls of the George V until I found myself at the twenty-four-hour business center. I decided to stop in and use one of the many available computers to email my mom again and maybe Corey and Sophe. They were probably dying to hear some Gavin Paris gossip.

  I logged into my Gmail account. A tiny surge of unexplainable excitement rippled through me. I had a new message from Matthew Decker.

  From: Matthew Decker

  To: Eden Perry

  Subject: The Timely Completion of Required Paperwork

  Ms. Perry,

  Thank you for your recent attempt at the completion of the Victim/Witness Form required by the US Department of Justice. One field that obviously escaped your notice and is in dire need of attention is the zip code field. Please remedy this
oversight immediately and provide the proper information. You may contact me with any questions you might have, though the form is self-explanatory and brief and would be unlikely to generate any questions.

  Sincerely,

  Matthew Decker, Special Agent

  Federal Bureau of Investigation

  United States Department of Justice

  Los Angeles Field Office

  PS I have attached another electronic copy of the form for your convenience

  I laughed and added my zip code to the form. Special Agent Matthew was funny. And I was nowhere close to figuring him out.

  My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten breakfast in all the excitement of the nose hysteria. It was now nearly lunch time. I thought about heading back to the room and seeing if Gavin wanted to order room service with me. He could sip his protein drink through a straw while I ate an actual meal, but at least they could arrive at the same time. I bent down to get my purse and noticed I had a new email. From Matthew. Sent one minute ago.

  I opened it up.

  From: Matthew Decker

  To: Eden Perry

  Subject: Re: The Timely Completion of Required Paperwork

  Ms. Perry,

  Thank you for resending the form so quickly. The Department of Justice appreciates your efficiency. I hope that Paris is everything you wanted it to be.

  Sincerely,

  Matthew

  I read the short reply with my finger on my lips. I read it again. Were we not to mention seeing each other in person? Probably not. He of all people would know all our email was being spied on.

  From: Eden Perry

  To: Matthew Decker

  Subject: Re: Re: The Timely Completion of Required Paperwork

  Mr. Decker,

  No problem. I am known for my efficiency and excellent typing skills. What are your special skills?

  Eden

  I pushed send and not two minutes later there was a response.

  From: Matthew Decker

  To: Eden Perry

  Subject: Re: Re: Re: The Timely Completion of Required Paperwork

  I’m a Special Agent. My special skills involve investigation. In fact, I know more about your life than you do. For instance, Sophie wants to know if the geriatric movie star is making you happy. She has her doubts.

  Matthew

  I laughed out loud. The ridiculous nose-waxing episode made me feel less like defending my not-quite-geriatric movie star. His vanity had kept me from enjoying yet another of my precious days in Paris. I tamped down my feelings of budding disloyalty and wrote back.

  From: Eden Perry

  To: Matthew Decker

  Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: The Timely Completion of Required Paperwork

  So, Sophie is confiding in you now, is she? Tell her I am on to her game. As I have previously impressed upon you, Gavin is not geriatric. In fact, it’s a lot more like he’s in preschool. I’d be happier if I were seeing more of Paris and if I weren’t spending so much time alone. It’s fun, though, especially when I run into mysterious men in dim alleyways. The hotel is beautiful.

  Eden

  I sent it, then immediately thought of something else I wanted to say.

  I’ll be having lunch shortly at Café Les Deux Magots so I don’t have time for more paperwork now.

  I sent it before I could think better of it and waited for his reply. Nothing. I fished my lip gloss from my purse and told myself I didn’t care if he wrote back or not. Good thing, too, because he didn’t.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A cool breeze blew as I sat at an outdoor table at the Café Les Deux Magots watching the people go by.

  Matthew sat down in front of me. “So what are we having?”

  A bubbly giddiness stole over me. I was ridiculously happy to see him. “I haven’t decided yet. Any ideas?”

  He picked up a menu and his eyebrows pulled together as he studied it. “Escargot? Isn’t that a must here?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Absolutely not. I’m sure they’re only still doing that to freak out the tourists.”

  He put the menu down and his eyes warmed. “Makes sense. And of course as a vehicle for butter.”

  I nodded and crossed my legs under the table. The toe of my pointy shoe pointed his direction. “Right. It’s the only legal way to consume a pool of melted butter in this country. All right. You’ve convinced me. Let’s split an order.”

  For a second he believed me, but then his surprise melted into a chest-heating grin.

  “You first.”

  The waitress stopped at our table, and I ordered sparkling water and a croque monsieur with a small side salad—which was the downside to eating in France. The salads only came with a nearly indiscernible amount of vinaigrette, if any at all. I don’t think there was a bottle of ranch to be found in the whole country. They probably made you give it up at customs.

  Matthew ordered the same sandwich and salad. When the waitress left, he turned back to me and smiled.

  My stomach flipped over. The giddy bubble I’d felt inside at his being here grew three sizes. Then a splinter of guilt popped my bubble. Was I betraying Gavin? What exactly were my intentions toward this mysterious lawman?

  “So I guess you and Gavin really hit it off in that interview for him to whisk you off to Paris like this.”

  I wrapped my hands around my water glass. It felt like months since I’d interviewed Gavin. “Guess so.”

  Matthew raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment on my diminished enthusiasm.

  I shrugged at the questions he wasn’t asking. “I thought we did, but things seem different here. I guess I didn’t know him there either.”

  Matthew nodded, and I wondered what he thought he understood.

  He hitched his chair closer to the table. “So what have you seen so far?”

  I launched into my travelogue and was delighted when he asked questions and made informed comments.

  “Have you been to Versailles yet?”

  Another historical marvel I’d been dying to see but hadn’t. “No. I really want to, though.”

  “Oh, you have to go. It’s amazing. I’ll take you there.”

  My giddy bubbles were back, multiplying at the thought of spending the day with him. Before I could answer in amazed acceptance, the waitress appeared and set our sandwiches down in front of us.

  The croque monsieurs were enrobed in cheese and impossible to eat with our hands. We each picked up our silverware at the same time and paused over the plate as if waiting for the other to dig in first. “On your marks, get set, go!” I announced.

  Matthew laughed, and his knife and fork flashed as he cut a perfect square out of the corner of his sandwich faster than I did. A second later the bite was in his mouth, and he was chewing and moaning with his eyes closed. “Wow, this is good.”

  I giggled, startled. His moan was making me feel things. He opened his eyes and caught me staring at him.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” He mimed that I should shovel food into my mouth. “I’m way ahead.”

  I laughed and tasted my first bite as he watched me. The still-hot Gruyère on the toasted artisan bread melted in my mouth. I found myself closing my eyes on the bite as well. When I opened them, Matthew was staring at me with a molten gaze that made me want to slide out of my café chair and into a puddle on the concrete. My breath quickened, but I forced myself to break our heated connection.

  I cut into my sandwich and stabbed another bite onto my fork. “You may have been first at the start, but how are you at finishing?” Although if I raced to eat my sandwich faster, I wouldn’t enjoy it as much.

  He put both palms on the table and ignored his plate. “I’m outstanding at finishing, but I’d like to take my time and make sure you finish first.”

  I choked on the bite I’d just put into my mouth. He rose as if to come to my side of the table, but I paused my coughing to wave him down and took a drink of water.

  “Are you okay?”<
br />
  “I’m great,” I rasped, clearing my throat. And I’m confused, I didn’t say. My toes curled inside my pointy shoes as I tried not to think about the starting and the finishing we could do together.

  Matthew’s lips curled as if he could guess my thoughts, and he lifted his laden fork for another bite with what was becoming a satisfied smile. He paused with it halfway to his mouth, looking over my shoulder. His eyes went wide and he set his fork back down.

  “Sorry, Eden. I have to go. Thanks for lunch.” He tossed me a look of regret before getting up quickly and leaving.

  Stunned, I turned and watched his retreating form.

  And caught a glance of Gavin at the curb, wearing a dark-haired wig, talking to Froggy Voice, the bad guy from the California hotel room and Matthew’s case.

  ∞∞∞

  I didn’t mention to Gavin that I’d seen him. And wearing a wig. I didn’t want to do anything to get in the way of Matthew’s case. But I had questions. Gavin was hanging out with a bad guy. Did that make him one?

  The next morning Gavin left early as usual. I stretched out, alone in bed, considering whether I should sleep in some more and call the whole day a loss or get up and pretend to do something. There was Debauve & Gallais to see—the oldest chocolate shop in the world, or so I’d heard. Empress Josephine bought her chocolates there. I’d love to go there. And not having Gavin with me would be an advantage—I could buy as many chocolates as I wanted and wouldn’t have to worry about what he’d think. And I wouldn’t have to hold back or make a smaller order for appearance’s sake. I snuggled down into the sumptuously soft bedding and wondered if they delivered.

  While I debated with myself, the doorbell rang. Yes, our suite had a doorbell. It was fancy but practical, too, since the suite was too big to hear someone knocking.

  Intrigued as to who’d be at the door when Gavin was not currently in residence, I pulled myself out of bed and grabbed my lacy robe. I didn’t bother trying to fix my bed head, though. For one thing, there wasn’t time and the delivery person or whoever would be long gone by the time I was presentable, and for another thing, it was whoever was at the door’s fault they were seeing me this early. They deserved to—visually—suffer the consequences.