Missing In Paris

Chapter 8

With the harebrained scheme to find her missed connection ready to launch, Neela spent her evening at home trying to embody the emotionless guys she'd come to know throughout her life in Toronto: the compartmentalizers.

These organized and efficient compartmentalizing guys could have a 'work wife,' a 'flirty connection' in their rock-climbing club, and many other categories of stimulating women, none of whom ever actually played the role of 'Instagram official girlfriend' or 'legally-binding wife.' These women were the accessories, the add-ons the compartmentalizers seemed to collect like charms on a Pandora bracelet.

At one time or another, Neela had played the role of all of these Pandora charms—with the obvious exception of the rock-climbing one. While she knew it wasn't fair to have a 'guy accessory' whilst also performing the role of 'fiancée,' a part of her felt justified, especially when she remembered Luc's attractive friend from school, the woman with the flowing hair and crisp blue eyes who he always felt the need to keep in touch with.

The more Neela thought about it, the more she realized that maybe Dante was wrong; maybe she wasn't searching for this 'missed connection' because she felt like she'd known him in some inexplicable way that stirred her heart. Maybe she just wanted to have a French male accessory, someone to share some laughs with before going home to her man. Was that so wrong?

These types of 'justification thoughts' were already flooding her brain mere hours after returning home from Dante's apartment, along with a day-drunk hangover she was already regretting.

She stood in the kitchen now, chugging down a glass of water before pouring herself another.

"That's a lot of water," Luc noted from his spot on the couch. "Did you just come back from the desert?" He smirked at his lame-ass joke before returning to his laptop and typing at a steady beat.

"Just sobering up before I FaceTime my parents," she said, her excitement non-existent and water now dribbling down her chin.

"Is that tonight?" he said pouting. "I thought you would be able help me with this introduction; it's the most important part for my big presentation that has to be all in English."

Neela frowned. "I told you I have to call them both tonight because my dad didn't make it yesterday; remember?" His face didn't register any memory of this fact. "And they only have a one-hour window, since they're going to see that Bollywood movie after." The blankness on his face persisted. "It's their first time paying for the full V.I.P. experience," she said chuckling. "They are so excited."

Luc didn't seem to be sharing in her enjoyment, but his blank expression had been replaced with a look of annoyance. "I suppose that means I will need to go hide in the closet or something," he muttered.

"Hey, come on; don't be like that." She went over to the couch and kissed him on the forehead. "I'm going to tell them about you soon; I promise."

His pouty face returned. Followed by a look of worry. "Gahhh!" he cried out.

Neela inched away from his outburst. "Everything okay?"

"I...just...what will I do?! This presentation is for our international team, which means the entire thing will be in English!"

She patted him on the arm. "I know, you kinda mentioned that already; but your English is really good!"

He sighed. "Really good is not going to cut it when I'm being compared against the executives from the UK." He held her hand. "I just really need your help with it tonight."

She nodded. "Sure, fine; I'll just do it after the call with my parents."

She could almost see him clench his teeth. "That is very nice of you to offer, but it is already late and if you help me after the call, I will have to stay up even later to rehearse." He dabbed the area under his eyes. "And I need to look well rested for tomorrow."