Читать книгу Love Locks - Cory Martin - Страница 8

Chapter Four

Traveling Back

It was just after three o’clock when Alexa and her mother made it back to the hotel. The desk clerk had given them their keys and escorted them to their top-floor suite. The suite was complete with a living room and two bedrooms, each with its own bathroom. Alexa had seen suites in movies, but this was something else. She felt like they were staying in a castle. The four-poster beds, the satin comforters, and big down decorative pillows all made it feel like she was a little girl entering a big girl’s world.

“I’m never going to be able to go to the dorms after this,” Alexa said as she walked through the first bedroom. Her dorm in Connecticut was half the size of this bedroom. The walls were cinder blocks painted with shiny paint so they wouldn’t stain, and her long, narrow twin bed was nowhere near as luxurious as the one she was about to sleep on, no matter how high the thread count of her sheets were. After seeing this suite, Alexa was pretty sure her dorm in Paris would be far better than anything she could find back in the States.

Lindsey followed Alexa into the second bedroom. “I’m never going to be able to go back to anything,” Lindsey said.

Alexa flopped onto her bed. “I think I’m already in love.”

“Me too. And exhausted,” Lindsey replied. “I’m going to take a shower and a nap. Will you be okay by yourself?”

Alexa looked out the window at the bustling street below and the Seine in the distance. “With this view? I think I can manage.”

“Well, don’t go wandering around here. It’s almost dark. Stay in your room?”

“Mom, you’re helicoptering again.”

Her mother looked guilty. “I know.”

“Don’t worry. I have no clue where I’m going anyway. I’ll be right here when you wake up,” Alexa said as she ushered her mom to the door.

“We’ll do dinner then,” Lindsey said, then did the European double kiss and walked into her room. “Good night.”

“Sweet dreams,” Alexa replied as she closed the door.

Alexa opened her smaller suitcase and started to unpack. She’d brought two specific bags, one for the hotel for the next four days and one that held the rest of her clothes for the next few months. She pulled out her toiletries and brought them into the bathroom. The counters were marble and the brass faucets gleamed like gold. There was even a claw-foot bathtub and a big plushy robe hanging behind the door. This was far better than the shared bathrooms she’d had to get used to at school on the East Coast. Alexa decided she’d take a bath, then unpack the rest of her clothes. She might as well enjoy the life of luxury while she could.

After her bath, Alexa wrapped herself in the super soft robe and unpacked her clothes, hanging each item in the armoire next to the bed. When she finished, she got into bed and grabbed her phone. She was about to log in to the WiFi network and check in on social media when she caught a glimpse outside. The winter sun was beginning to set, and the sky was turning pink.

She put her phone on the nightstand and threw the drapes wide open so that she’d have a better view. She became transfixed on the scene outside. Paris is magic. Anywhere else, she’d be snapping photos and uploading them instantly for her followers to see, but here, she had no desire to share—she simply wanted to be in the moment. To absorb the colors and the emotions. The smell of history and her freshly scrubbed skin now coated with a French lotion she knew hadn’t come from the local drugstore. In Connecticut, and even New York, she’d never been so inspired. She’d been painting for years, but she’d never had this kind of feeling—where the present moment was all that mattered. She’d always been living in the past or the future, thinking of what had been and what would be, painting what she thought others wanted to see.

She took a deep breath as the sky turned a deeper shade of pink with a hint of orange. The sun drifted lower on the horizon.

Just as it was about to disappear for the night, she picked up her phone and snapped a quick photo. She couldn’t resist. Though the moment was etched into her mind, she knew she would use the color in a painting one day, and she’d had enough schooling to know that a color is hard to match if you don’t have a photo.

As Alexa was about to turn away from the window, she looked down into the street and caught a glimpse of the bellhop from earlier that day. She was staring at him when he looked up. Alexa froze. Could he see her? She yanked at her robe, although it was closed tight.

He smiled and waved. Feeling both flirtatious and shy, Alexa turned left and right as if she was looking to see if he was gesturing to someone else. He shook his head and pointed right at her. Then he smiled and waved again. Slowly, she lifted her right hand away from her robe and responded with a tiny flicker of her fingers. Then he made a gesture to say, Come down here.

Her stomach fluttered. Should she go down and meet him? She shrugged her shoulders as if she didn’t understand. He made the come-hither gesture again.

Oh, why not? She held up her hand, fingers spread wide to indicate she needed five minutes. He smiled and pointed inside the hotel.

Alexa closed the drapes and threw off her robe. What should I wear? She didn’t want to look as if she was trying too hard, but appearing like a complete slob was not an option either. She opened the armoire and looked at her clothes. Nothing appealed to her. Then she remembered her gray cashmere sweater that she had packed in the bigger suitcase for when she arrived at school. She tore it open and dug through the stacks of clothes until she found it.

She put it on, pulled on a pair of jeans, and looked in the mirror. The sweater was conservative but fitted enough to show off her figure. She put on her boots, then applied a fresh coat of lip gloss. She smacked her lips together to even out the color and made a popping sound. This is Paris, she thought. Living on a whim, in the moment. Alexa grabbed her jacket and quickly headed out. Just as the door clicked shut behind her, she realized she had not only left the key behind, but also her phone. She was locked out.

She contemplated knocking on the door and waking up her mom, but didn’t want to have to deal with a barrage of questions. Where are you going? Who are you meeting? What are you doing? Plus, her mom had looked really tired earlier. If she was still asleep, Alexa didn’t want to wake her. She decided to leave her phone behind and head downstairs. Best-case scenario, she’d be back before her mom even noticed. Worst-case scenario, her mom would wake up and come looking for her. Either way, she’d still be in the hotel, and there was no way her mom could get mad at her for that. She’d simply tell her that she got hungry.

When the elevator reached the ground floor, Alexa exited to find the bellhop waiting in the courtyard. His back was toward her, but she knew it was him. She straightened out her jacket, fluffed up her hair, and started walking his way. Just as she was about to tap on his shoulder, he turned around. Alexa jumped.

“Mademoiselle, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s okay.” A tiny tingle went through her body. His eyes were mesmerizing.

“I’m Jean Paul, but everyone calls me J.P.,” he said as he reached out for a proper handshake greeting.