Chapter 7

Two hours later, we sat around a tiny table in the window of a bakery around the corner from our hotel. Hunter’s favorite bakery had already closed, but he declared this one equally acceptable. If an adorable pink and blue pastel bakery full of decorative gold chairs that looked like it belonged in a theme park could be deemed “acceptable,” I couldn’t imagine what his favorite bakery would be like.

I tried to imagine coming here every day for a pastry on my way to work—or whatever I wanted to do that day—and smiled to myself.

On the table sat two white boxes full of colorful macarons. I estimated they’d last five minutes, tops.

“I wanted to impress my boss by speaking to his wife in French before she left on a trip,” Hunter was saying. “She comes to the tour office often and brings pastries. So I said I’d miss her. As in, we’d notice her absence while she was gone because of the pastries. But what I actually said was, ‘You’ll miss me .’ You should have seen the look on my boss’s face.”

Alexis howled, and Jillian threw back her head, laughing.

I shoved a macaron into my mouth in a single bite. Chocolate, and the perfect texture. Hunter and I tried to make macarons at home in high school, but it didn’t go well. Now I sat watching him entertain my sisters as if this were the diner at the end of Main Street and we’d just finished a long day at school.

Dinner had been lovely—absolutely dreamy and everything I imagined a French restaurant to be. The food was divine, the service impeccable, and Hunter paid for it all.

I resented him every minute of it.

I swallowed and shoved another macaron in my mouth. Pistachio. I followed that with vanilla, liking the combination of flavors exploding on my tongue.

“Hey, don’t hog them all,” Alexis said, ripping the box from my hands. She took a strawberry and passed the box around the table. “Kennedy, what do you think of Hunter speaking French and living in Paris? You took French in school, didn’t you? I haven’t heard you use it once.”

I gritted my teeth and faced Hunter. For once, I saw no amusement in his eyes. Only curiosity. He really wanted to know.

“Anyone who’s lived in Paris for four years can speak fluent French,” I said. “It’s a little harder to practice when you’re stuck in a small town where only the French teacher speaks it. Tell us more about your job in Colorado, Lexi. What do you do, exactly?”

My distraction didn’t quite work like it had for Hunter. She seemed as closed off as ever. “I already told you. I run some of the adventure activities.” She frowned. “Or I did. Before.”

Hunter looked back and forth between us. “Before what? Did something happen?”

My sisters and I exchanged uncertain expressions. Keeping the inheritance a secret would be harder than expected.

“It’s just that, um, something came up. Something better.” The last word had a bitter tone to it, though I couldn’t place why. Alexis grabbed another macaron from the box and shoved it in her mouth, looking annoyed, as usual.

Hunter nodded. “Sounds like you enjoyed it. Whatever is coming next must be amazing indeed.”

“Sure. It’s pretty amazing,” Alexis muttered through a full mouth.

Yep. Definitely a bitterness there. I’d have to pry a few layers back to get to the heart of it.

I cleared my throat and stood. “We should probably go to bed. We’re running on very little sleep. It’s been lovely to see you, Hunter. Enjoy the rest of your week.” My formal words, combined with my strained tone, made everyone stare at me in confusion.

Jillian folded her hands on the table. “Actually, Kennedy, Hunter said he doesn’t have to work tomorrow and he’d be happy to show us around. He can help us navigate the city and show us all the insider tips. But only if you’re okay with it.”

Screaming inwardly, I forced myself to take a deep breath. I’d planned to avoid Hunter on this trip, not latch on to him. How could I help Jillian understand? “A kind offer, but we already have reservations and tickets printed for the rest of our trip.” I patted my bag. “I’m confident we can get around just fine.”

“Like we got to the Eiffel Tower?” Alexis quipped. “You took us the wrong direction on the metro.”

“We got there eventually,” I said through clenched teeth.

“I’m sure what you have planned is great,” Jillian said cautiously, “but it would be way more fun with an old friend. And since he speaks French . . . ”

The others nodded in collective agreement.

“It would be my pleasure. It isn’t often I have guests.” Hunter inclined his head. “But I don’t want to impose if you feel uncomfortable with it, Kennedy. So it’s up to you.”

My sisters swung their heads and looked at me warily.

“They’ve been best friends since they were in diapers,” Alexis said. “Of course she wants you to come.”

As much as I loved Alexis, I wanted to slap her. Obviously we weren’t best friends anymore, or Paris wouldn’t have gotten between us. And Collette. And Mom. And everything.

To make matters worse, Hunter now bulldozed over my plans and opinions. And now he pretended to care what I wanted? Yet, if I rejected him, I’d be the controlling and domineering one. Because nobody here except Hunter knew what happened the last time I ever heard from him.

That moment lay buried in the deepest shadows of my soul.

Yet Hunter and I were both twenty-six years old now, certainly mature enough to endure each other’s presence and have cordial adult conversations. He knew as much about my childhood obsession with Paris as anyone. Perhaps he’d have insights into the city that the internet and my experience as a travel agent couldn’t touch. As for what happened between us . . .

So far, he hadn’t brought it up either. If he tried, I would shut him down for good.

“I suppose it would be better with someone we know,” I said reluctantly.

Hunter nodded, though his lips were thin and tight. “Happy to do it. You can have the next day, too, if you like. My partner has been asking for more shifts anyway. He’s saving for a trip to the UK.”

“Perfect.” Jillian didn’t even ask this time. She simply shot me a look that said, You don’t have a say in this. I shot her a glare right back, but she’d already turned back to Hunter with a sweet smile.

I couldn’t decide who to strangle first—Hunter, Alexis, or my traitor of a youngest sister.