My French Month (Gaspard Ulliel Love Story)

We took off then, all the people around me letting out breaths of relief when we were safely suspended in the clouds, surrounded by grey clouds and humid air.

My jaw was locked, leading to a painful ache in my throat, but why would I care? It was vacation, and I had a whole freaking month to recover from any damage I would probably cause myself in an attempt to take my mind off the amount of time I would be gone. How would anything get done? Would Carlson remember to make the brochure copies? My shaking hand leapt to my phone, before I realized a dilemma. Mom had confiscated my work phone. Damn.

The flight was long, and nothing I brought held my interest, despite the fact that I had purposely packed about a thousand things to entertain myself with.

I couldn't help the nervous tapping in my foot, or the nervous glances out the window. I couldn't see anything outside, mostly because the closer we got to Europe, the darker the sky became. And not because it was nighttime, but rather because the weather had gotten worse.

Landing was easier than I thought it was going to be, what with the rain and all. Everyone around me rose from their seats and began unloading, pulling small children by the hand into the isle, and grabbing suitcases and carryon bags. I had a small backpack with me, so I slung it over my shoulder and inched my way into line.

People were too tired to glare, and that was fine by me. Once I managed to get into the airport, I smiled. The air, though filled with hundreds of different sounds and smells, was fresh, and not nearly as stale as it was on the plane.

Baggage claim was a nightmare, and I could hardly breath the air I had been so happy to have before with all the people around me. And worse still, they all seemed to be large men. Of course I could spot a few women weaving between them, but I was short enough that I hardly knew if I was even going the right way.

It was like being in a huge city, when all you wanted to do was get to the country. I felt trapped, and confused at the snippets of conversation in French that I heard swirling around me. Every couple seconds I could pick up a couple lines in another language, but hardly anyone was speaking good old English.

" Shit" I cursed under my breath, frowning slightly at the people jostling me this way and that. I was Nicole Bennette, damn it, and I would not be pushed around!

At that thought I stood up straighter and squared my shoulders, searching the ceiling for any sign indicating the place I would go to get my suitcase. There were so many different ones, all primarily in French, with different translations beneath it.

As far as I could tell though, there were more people here than normal. I supposed the stormy weather had forced certain flights to be delayed, but multiple planes had arrived at the same time, causing confusion and crowding. I found a small stand with pamphlets and maps, and grabbed a couple. Being the person that I am, I had planned everything about this trip before actually boarding the plane, so I knew exactly where I needed to go. Like most airports, I spotted a food court to my right, and made a mad dash for the nearest one. I ended up in a small cafe, filled with people and children. At incredible speeds I ordered a large cup of coffee and sat down at a small table near a window. The window, instead of giving me a nice view of the outside, allowed me to watch the people in the airport.

From my seat there, I was able to see everything that was going on. A large crowd was centered around baggage claim, and I realized with a jolt that I had been stuck right in the middle of it. Actually, I had kind of wedged myself in there on purpose, hadn't I? With calm fingers I pulled out my phone, tapping the smooth screen until I managed to bring up the number of the hotel I had booked for the month.

" Hello, is this Jays Paris?" I asked hopefully, knowing fully well that I had the number right, and that all of the contacts in my phone that I had planned for this trip were 100% correct.