The Model Spy

Chapter 9 - The Tour de Paris

I nodded at Zach. "Didn't you say you wanted to go shopping?"

He stared at me blankly.

"At that shop on the Rue St. Denis. Remember?" There was no use for him wasting time sitting around the hotel. The faster we got this guy, the better. He made it known since the very first day I met him that he was perfectly capable of doing this on his own. Now it was the perfect time for him to prove it.

He smiled forcefully. "Yes, I forgot. I needed to buy a present for my fiancé. Thank you for reminding me, Emma."

"Excellent!" Dylan nearly jumped up and down. "I'll return her to her hotel tonight, mate. You enjoy your day off and I'll show her the Paris I call home." He grabbed keys out of his pocket. "Stay here,” he told me. "I'm going to get our ride."

"Laura, are you sure?" Zach asked me again once Dylan was out of earshot.

"You have time to nab this guy. Obviously I can't leave, this is my job. People will think I'm up to something. You can do whatever you want."

"Do you trust Dylan?"

"Does he really look like the type that would harm me?" I asked. "I mean, he's like a child in a candy shop. He needs to lay off of the coffee."

"You think he's cute?" he asked me out of nowhere.

"So?" I replied. "What does that have to do with anything?"

He shook his head as Dylan came back. On a moped. It was like one of those chick-flick movies! I was sure Zach thought the same thing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him throw his head back with exasperation.

"I'll be back at the hotel in a bit!" I called to Zach as I put on a helmet.

"See you, mate!" Dylan yelled.

Zach gave an unenthusiastic wave before heading in the opposite direction, towards the Rue St. Denis.

A nervous feeling twisted my gut painfully. He could do this alone, right?

Winding through crazy traffic and crowds of tourists, we got to our destination rather quickly. It felt so exciting to be riding on the back of a moped with a cute guy and the wind blowing through my hair. I forgot about all of the stress I was feeling. Almost.

Was it wrong of me to ditch Zach like that? The look on his face as I drove off with Dylan was etched in my brain. He almost appeared, sad, lost even. Like he didn’t know which way to turn. We had been a team since we landed, we didn’t always get along, but we were a team nonetheless. Tonight could have very well been the most important night during the entire case: the takedown. And I was riding around Paris on the back of a moped with a cute guy I barely knew.

“Dylan, I need to be back in an hour," I found myself saying over the rushing wind. Maybe I would have time to catch up with Zach. Oh, Zach would so owe me for ditching this date!

Dylan ignored my comment as he continued to weave throughout the busy lanes.

“Dylan!” I said louder, but the traffic paired with the sounds of the moped speeding along the street was too loud for him to hear my meek voice.

Finally Dylan parked along a busy street, squeezing his bike between two parked cars.

"Close your eyes," Dylan said as turned off the loud motor and removed my helmet. Gently, he flattened my windblown helmet-hair. I told myself he did it only because it was his job as my photographer, to make me look good. But he touched me softly and gently, as if he was afraid I would break. My heart skipped a beat.