Je t’aime

“Sounds like a good story but I have more important news. I’m going out for drinks after work tonight and I think you should come. It’s something you don’t want to miss. Besides, you don’t get out enough.” Margot said.

Knowing she was right, Kendra said, “Okay, I could stand to get out more. My French has gotten much better, so I might even be able to communicate with people. Where are we going?”

“Only the hottest club in Pairs, Wonderlust. The dance floor overlooks the Seine and only the elite can get in. It’s by invitation only and I’ve got two VIP passes with our names on them.” Margot said, taking the engraved invitations out of her shoulder bag, then waving them triumphantly in Kendra’s face.

“Wow, that’s great. I didn’t know you had those kinds of connections. Where did you get them?” Kendra said.

“This hunk of a guy named Remy, I met him through his sister, Greta. They’re like stupid rich. Heirs to a shipping fortune or something.” Margot said.

“Margot, I’ve never been much for night clubs and partying, I hope I won’t be out of my element.” Kendra said, a frown crossing her face.

“No, you’ll be fine. Besides the great dance floor, there are several bars, if things get too crazy we just try a different one. Remy and Greta are going to meet us out front. They’re members and get special treatment. We’ll have our own table, no probably a room, somewhere super cool.” Grinning from ear to ear, her excitement was contagious, Kendra found herself looking forward to the night.

“You’re right. I need to live a little, but I’m not getting drunk. However, I wouldn’t mind a little romance. ” Kendra said, with a wink.

“Good, bring clothes to change into after work and we’ll leave from there.” Margot said, getting up to leave. “Maybe you’ll meet a handsome stranger who will sweep you off your feet in true Paris style. You haven’t lived until you’ve had a Paris romance.” Returning the wink, she headed off down the street.

*****

Kendra had no idea what to wear to a Paris nightclub, but she figured it couldn’t be that much different than home. She packed her best little black dress, some slinky shoes, and her favorite thong. No panty lines for her tonight. She shoved her makeup and hair accessories into the bag and figured she’d clean up just fine.

As she packed her things, she thought about romance. It had been a while since she had let a man into her life. The last time had been a disaster. Mark had thought that since she was a chef, she would be there each night to feed him a gourmet meal. He had assumed that her career was only a diversion, until she could find a husband. She had been so in love that she hadn’t seen the truth until it was almost too late.

She had awoken one morning, wearing an engagement ring, and listening to Mark once again whine about having to pay a caterer, when his fiancé was a chef. It had been an old complaint, one that resurfaced time and time again. It was then that Kendra had faced the truth about her coming marriage.

Mark wasn’t looking for a wife or a life partner, he was looking for someone to work in his kitchen. She had met Mark six months ago, when she’d been working at a restaurant uptown that had an open kitchen. Mark had sat down at the bar and hadn’t moved the entire night. He had watched her perform her job with precision and skill, and had asked to meet the chef after the dinner rush had finished.

She had been both flattered and intrigued. Thinking he had been attracted to her, she had given him her number. She had never dated anyone like Mark before. He was well educated, an investment banker, with one of the leading firms in the city.

While not wealthy he had been well on his way to a comfortable life. His plans had evidently included a live in maid and cook. It had slowly become apparent that he expected her to make him the top priority in her life, he had even suggested she call in sick to work once to cater a party for him. Her refusal had resulted in the first of his many tirades about her lack of support. Kendra had grown tired of the constant battles and planned to give up her career to be a home maker, all she had asked was six months to finish her current contract.

That last morning, she had gotten up in the middle of his latest rant, packed a bag and never looked back. It had broken her heart. She’d blamed his mother, the fact he was white, and just about anything else she could think of, until she finally had to admit the truth. She had jumped in with both feet, charmed that someone like Mark would be interested, no, in love with her.

It had taken time to heal her heart, as well as for the humiliation to recede. It had only made matters worse that Mark had married only a few short months after she left. In the end she’d promised herself she would tread carefully in the future. Love needed time to grow, Kendra wouldn’t make that mistake again.

But she might just be ready for some romance. She’d never had a fling before and what better place was there, than Paris to live a little.