Chapter 6

“This. Is. Incredible.” Jillian flitted from one section of the windows to another, taking photos with her phone. “I still can’t believe I’m here. Kennedy, isn’t this amazing?”

It really was. I almost regretted scheduling our Eiffel Tower outing for the first day, wishing I could fully enjoy it. My vision seemed fuzzy at the edges and my brain felt entirely disconnected from my limbs, but at least we’d been able to take an elevator to the second floor instead of climbing the stairs. Or at least Jillian and I had. Alexis opted to climb the steps—all six hundred-plus of them. She hadn’t arrived yet.

“The view will be even better from the top,” I told her. “There’s a bit of a wait for the elevator, though. You might want to get in line now.” I’d printed off nearly an entire book of travel advice before leaving the agency, and it appeared it would be worth the effort. “I’ll wait here for Alexis and meet you up there. She shouldn’t be much longer.”

“Deal.” Jillian melted into the crowd. Even at twenty-two, my youngest sister seemed like a teenager. I could almost imagine her as an energetic, bubbly, sixty-year-old woman. More like Mom than any of us, and it both warmed and slashed my heart a bit to think about it.

Alexis appeared at my side then, barely out of breath. She had the endurance of a racehorse. “That took longer than expected. How was the elevator?”

“Big and crowded. How was the climb?”

“About the same. I won’t feel guilty at dinner tonight, though. Probably burned a thousand calories in half an hour.” She turned to me, a hint of challenge in her gaze. “I’m taking the stairs back down later. You should join me.”

A competition or an invitation? Alexis didn’t seem to enjoy my company any more than I did hers, and probably for the same reason. We never spoke about her decision to leave Mom and live with Dad during the divorce. We didn’t need to. She made her choice, and we made ours. The difference being that Jillian and I made the right choice and Alexis made the wrong one. I often wondered if Mom’s health would have failed so quickly if she hadn’t suffered a painful separation from her daughter in addition to being rejected by her husband.

At any rate, Alexis knew my feelings on the subject. But she did seem to be trying, which was more than I’d done thus far.

“Come on, be spontaneous,” she said. “It’ll take, like, fifteen minutes.”

“Sure, whatever. But first we’re going to the summit, up top. I told Jillian we’d meet her there.”

“Good. Fine.” I couldn’t tell whether she truly wanted me to join her or not, but I let the matter drop. We were two women in our mid- to late twenties, and clearly we’d be sharing nearly every moment for the next month. We could be civil.

Mom would be proud.

The wait wasn’t long, and soon we found Jillian at the edge, recording herself. She looked brilliant and happy as she chattered on about the view below and beyond without seeming to care about the ugly protective metal grating behind her. Soon she waved us over.

“These are my amazing sisters,” Jillian told her audience, pulling me in close and stepping to the side so Alexis could join us. “Kennedy is the oldest, and Alexis is the middle child. I’m the youngest. We’re on the girl trip of our lives. Sisters for the win!” She gave us both an awkward side hug while I smiled at the camera and tried to forget how many tens of thousands of followers she had across the world, all of whom would see the jet-lagged version of me today.

As Jillian shoved her phone back into her pocket, Alexis said, “I don’t know how you do that.”

“It’s easy. You just have to look for the right shot.”

“No, pretend to be all perky and happy all the time.”

Jillian just laughed. “Yeah, especially when I’m running on two hours of sleep in two days. But, hey, we’re in Paris!” She made her way to a different side of the platform and pulled out her camera again.

Alexis wandered off, too, so I turned to admire the view. A sea of white and tan blanketed the city below, just beyond the park. Paris was an ocean of blocky historical buildings with a cluster of dark, modern skyscrapers in the distance, all separated by lines of trees and the deep-green Seine. I felt as if lifted into the sky, peering down on the world from heaven.

Did Mom feel like this, wherever she was? That our lives were small compared to the bigger picture? Did she guide her daughters’ lives in small ways from above? I had a theory that she inspired Grandpa to bestow his fortune on his grandchildren. Unfortunately, neither he nor she were alive to confirm it, so I would never know the truth.

My chest ached, wishing I could ask her advice about Hunter just now. She liked him well enough as our neighbor and my childhood friend. But things got complicated after high school. When it came to Hunter, they seemed more complicated than with anyone else.

Or maybe they were simple and I just wanted to think they were complicated. It came down to the fact that Hunter had chosen someone else. Done. End of story.

But if that were true, why reach out to his neighbors the moment they arrived in town?

Because we’re old friends, Kennedy. Simple as that. Even engaged people were allowed to reminisce with their neighbors. I had to get out of my own head before my heart tried to take over and ruin everything. Maybe we should have slept longer than two hours after all.

After a few minutes, Jillian appeared at my side. “We’re hungry. Lexi is saving us a place in the elevator. We’ll go back to the second floor and go down from there. Did you really agree to take the stairs?”

Oh. Right. I had fifteen minutes of stairs in my future.

Yippee.

I nodded. Even that little movement made me dizzy. “I think so, unfortunately.”

Jillian cocked her head. “Are you sure? Because you look ready to fall over. This is unusually spontaneous for you.”

“I’m sure. Alexis is hard to crack. If this is important to her, I’m doing it.” I gave my shoulder bag a tug to make sure it was secure. I’d packed it to the brim with our passports and files with printouts of addresses and schedules. If anything went wrong on this trip, it wouldn’t be for lack of planning.

Jillian examined me for a long moment. Then she pulled me in for a quick hug. “Thank you,” she whispered into my ear. “I appreciate that you’re trying. I know how you feel about what she did.”

How I felt? I thought we both felt the same. Was the trip changing her already?

“Of course,” I finally said, and forced a smile. “Sisters forever.”

Three flights down, I remembered how much I hated the word spontaneous .

The stairs swam in my vision, blurring into each other in my sleep-deprived exhaustion. It took all my mental power to put one foot in front of the other. Perspiration dripped down my chest, and I found myself breathing hard, trying to keep up with my athletic sister who somehow always seemed a flight ahead. Good thing we weren’t racing. Or did she think we were? Hard to tell with Alexis.

I hurried to catch up, sliding sideways to pass a couple descending leisurely like I should be doing.

“Excuse me, sorry,” I said to an older woman I accidentally bumped into and who muttered some French I didn’t understand. So much for my four years of high-school French.

The flights seemed to go on forever. And ever. Every time I turned a corner, I hoped it would be the last. But no. The elevator passed us several times, and I knew Jillian would be waiting at the bottom. They both would. Why had I agreed to this again? I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of Alexis now.

My brain felt dizzy, and my legs shook. I knew better than to do physical things like this after so little sleep. But the ground did seem closer, so I must be making progress. These metal steps couldn’t last forever. If my brain and legs could work together just a little longer, I’d be golden.

I made one last turn and saw the exit below. Finally. Almost there. If I could . . . just . . .

My foot didn’t quite clear the previous step, and I tripped. Suddenly, the world spun. Pain exploded in my knee as I landed, and I tried to catch myself as I tumbled, step after step.

All at once, everything came to a stop.

I found myself lying on the ground, looking up at a mass of gray metal with yellow accents . . . and a handsome Frenchman with a trimmed goatee, earnest brown eyes, and a brown shirt beneath his gray suit jacket. An interesting color combination, but it totally worked for him. I must have landed right at his feet.

He said something in French, then saw my confusion and switched to English. “Are you all right?”

An existential question, really. Were any of us all right?

You hit your head, Kennedy. Get it together.

With a groan, I managed to push myself into a sitting position. The man knelt in front of me, lowering his head to gaze into my eyes. I suddenly realized I was splayed across the base of the steps, skirt and all.

Oh no. Had he seen my underwear? This was my worst nightmare come true.

“I think I’m okay,” I managed.

The stranger grabbed my arms and lifted me to my feet. As he did, the world snapped into sharp focus. This was no dream. The handsome Frenchman looked me up and down, searching for injuries.

Maybe not such a nightmare after all.

Then he smiled, satisfied I wasn’t seriously hurt. “Every man hopes a beautiful woman will land at his feet, but that was a more dramatic entrance than most. May I escort you to get medical help?”

I looked up the flight of stairs I’d just tumbled down and rubbed my backside. I’d have quite the colorful collection of bruises tomorrow, but everything seemed to be working. “My pride is the only thing truly injured. Thank you, though.”

“You’re most welcome. Before I take my leave, may I help you find your companions? I hesitate to leave you alone.”

Then don’t, I wanted to tell him. Just stay here and talk to me forever, you beautiful French hero.

“My sisters are around here somewhere, but I’ll find them soon enough.” I smiled, hoping I looked somewhat presentable. “I’m Kennedy Travell, from Arizona.”

“Claude Boucher.” He pulled out a business card and placed it in my hand. “At your service as long as you grace our beautiful city.”

Aww. The guy certainly knew how to talk to a girl. I looked at the card, grateful it was in English, and raised an eyebrow. “You’re a real estate agent? Actually, I’ve been thinking of moving here.”

A second later, I realized what had just slipped from my mouth. Moving here? I did want to move, and I wanted a fresh start, but living in Paris?

My heart soared at the thought. Move to Paris. It felt like an impossible dream that I hadn’t realized I could even have. A vision for the future so locked away, so deep, that I hadn’t even allowed my brain to dare consider such a dream. But now, with the vault of my dreams unlocked after all these years, it felt right somehow.

Of course. If I meant to move, why not Paris? I would soon have the money to live anywhere I wanted.

That familiar thrill rose up within me, and I found myself smiling. I could totally do this.

“Excellent!” Claude said. “I am indeed l’agent immobilier —a real estate agent, as you say. I would be pleased to assist if you will allow it. I helped an American find a home just three days ago.”

This all felt too perfect, an agent falling right into my lap. Or, rather, me falling at his feet. What was a French non-tourist real estate agent doing at the base of the Eiffel Tower, anyway?

Saving you a bunch of research , I told myself . I could at least give him my number and set him to work. “I think I want to rent a place before I commit to buying anything.” That seemed like the responsible move with the inheritance still up in the air. Besides, I wanted to talk to Jillian about her plans first, so she didn’t feel abandoned.

Claude nodded. “A sensible decision. I am also a renter’s agent, so I can represent you. How long will you be visiting?”

“Four more days.”

“Plenty of time.” He took my hand, the one that still held his business card, and held it up so I had no choice but to look at it. “Call this number tonight, and I will have some options for you. We can start looking tomorrow.”

I’d packed our itinerary pretty full, so I couldn’t imagine when I’d have time to look at houses. But for the first time in a long while, my heart swelled at my dream. A big, exciting dream. I felt like a caged bird facing an open door, daring to consider the fact that I could step outside and take flight. It felt really good . . . and downright terrifying.

“Thank you, Claude.” I flashed him a brilliant smile and tucked the business card into the pocket behind my phone for safekeeping. A handsome Frenchman? I’d most definitely be giving him a call.

“My pleasure, Kennedy.”

He melted into the crowd as Jillian emerged, pulling Alexis behind her. “Kennedy! You’ll never guess who we found.”

Hunter stepped into my line of sight.

The view from the summit had quite literally taken my breath away, but the sight of my best friend squeezed my lungs like a hand grabbing a sponge. Hunter the gangly college student was gone forever, replaced by Hunter the man.

He looked incredible—fit, tanned, and content. His floppy, curly hair was now shorter, more controlled, featuring tighter and more intentional curls, and his dark eyes held layer upon piercing layer of deep brown. He wore a gray button-down shirt with an open collar that revealed a smooth, hardened chest. The sleeves were rolled up just above the wrists. Somehow, it brought my attention to his shoulders, which seemed bulkier than I remembered.

Boy, did I remember. Those shoulders had cradled me once, and I remembered well running my hands along them, memorizing every crevice as he kissed me. What would those thick shoulders feel like now?

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Now was not the time to think about that.

“Neddie,” he said softly. The smile on his lips reached his eyes in a way that squeezed my chest a bit harder. I had to will my lungs to function as they should. Still recovering from the fall, surely.

“She doesn’t like that nickname anymore,” Alexis pointed out.

I pulled myself together and lifted my chin, hoping I looked just as mature and not like an insecure tourist who’d just fallen down the stairs. “Hi, Hunter.”

“What a coincidence seeing you here,” Jillian said, although I detected a mischievous undercurrent to her tone. “Hunter, how is it you look exactly the same?”

By the way she avoided my eyes, I knew she’d told him to meet us here. The little traitor.

“And how is it you look all grown up, Jillie?” Hunter asked, turning his attention to my sister. “I swear you graduated from high school just a few months ago. What are you up to these days?”

Jillian grinned. “My channel is doing pretty well. It’s been a lot of work, though.”

“I’m sure. You must be doing something right, then. I’m sure you deserve it.” He turned to Alexis. “What about you, Lexi? How is Maine?”

She looked uncomfortable. “I haven’t lived there in years. I’m in Colorado now, working at an extreme adventure camp.”

Jillian and I shot each other meaningful looks. Alexis didn’t tell either of us about that.

“That sounds perfect. What do they have you doing out there? They’re lucky to have you. I can’t think of a single sport you aren’t good at.”

Alexis beamed. “I run their teen program. I’m also over the mountain biking and hiking divisions. If it weren’t for me, eighty percent of the counselors would get lost.”

I watched my sister interact with him, unwillingly admiring how easily he pulled my sister from her shell. She never opened up like this, yet he seemed to bring out the best in her. At least that part of him hadn’t changed. He always was a charmer.

“So you live here now?” Alexis asked.

Hunter nodded. “About four years now. I started with an internship with a tourism company, then got hired on full-time. I finished my history degree online in the evenings.” He seemed to avoid my gaze.

I swallowed, reading the full meaning behind his words. He didn’t want to come home because I was there. And I didn’t want to come here because he was here. Too much pain and rejection to deal with head-on, and so we played the avoidance game.

“You should start an extreme-adventure tour here,” Lexi said. “Go to a few old buildings and museums, and they start to feel the same. A bike tour or zip line outside the city sounds way more fun. If that existed, I would totally come back.”

“If that’s what it will take to get you back, I’ll mention it to my friend.” His sharp eyes finally landed on me, pinning me with his gaze. “Somebody once told me Paris is always a good idea.”

I didn’t miss the Sabrina reference. In that instant, I felt exposed, like that nightmare I’d had since high school, finding myself in math class in my pajamas. Or less. Hunter had a way of seeing through my walls, and I hadn’t had a chance to fortify them in preparation for this moment. I looked down at my rumpled clothes and tried to smooth everything down. I carefully chose my outfits for this trip to avoid looking like an American tourist, but falling down the stairs had a way of outing people. Maybe I should have gone with the comfortable jeans after all.

My knee throbbed, and I felt a headache coming on. If only our hotel room had a bathtub to soak in and not a shower.

“And finally, the million-dollar question,” Hunter said, looking at my sisters. “What are the Travell sisters doing in Paris?” Hunter’s eyes flicked to mine again, and I saw the question he didn’t ask. What does it mean, seeing you here, Kennedy ?

Million dollar question? What did he know about the inheritance? I pushed back my panic and reminded myself it was just an expression. He couldn’t possibly knew about the inheritance. “Just a sister trip,” I said quickly. “Paris is one stop of many over the next month.”

Jillian clapped her hands. “You should be our tour guide, Hunter! I bet you know all about the city.”

“We already have tours booked,” I said, patting my shoulder bag which, thankfully, still sat safely on my shoulder despite the fall. Good thing I’d zipped it up before descending the stairs. “In fact, we should get going. My reservation at the restaurant expires in thirty minutes. It was great to see you, Hunter.”

Jillian’s eyes bored into mine. “Kennedy, it’s Hunter . The least we can do is invite him to dinner with us.” She turned back to him. “We’re eating at a fancy restaurant tonight that Kennedy found online. I can’t remember what it’s called.”

“Boutary,” Alexis said. Now she seemed almost bored .

“Yes, that’s it. Will you come? You can tell us what it’s like to live here, Hunter. I’d love to hear your stories.”

Hunter smiled. “Well, I don’t have plans tonight. But I know a cheaper place that isn’t as busy, and the food is just as good. What do you say, ladies? My treat.”

Jillian grinned from ear to ear. “That’s perfect! Let’s do it.”

“Cheaper is good,” Alexis said.

I scowled. It had taken hours of research and planning to get that reservation. Just like Hunter to uproot my plans and dismiss all my hard work.

The others turned to me, and Hunter’s smile broadened as he took in my expression. I knew that stupid grin well. He knew exactly what he was doing, cozying up with my sisters so I couldn’t send him away.

And then he winked.

I cursed under my breath. Infuriating man. Maybe he hadn’t grown up so much after all.

My sisters waited expectantly, so I smoothed my face to avoid giving him any satisfaction. “I guess we could spare a couple of hours.”

Jillian shot me a warning look before turning back to Hunter. “Perfect. You can tell us what to try. Will they have charcuterie? And macaroons?”

“ Macarons ,” Hunter corrected. His voice sounded deliciously seductive when he said it in a French accent. “And no, they probably won’t. But I’ll take you to my favorite bakery afterward.”

Jillian threw her arms around him. “I knew you wouldn’t let us down. It’s so good to see you. How lucky that we ran into you on our first day. What are the chances?”

His eyes settled on mine, and I saw a secret beneath the amusement there. “What are the chances, indeed?”