"Are you sure you're up for this? Because I will totally, absolutely understand if you, ya know, aren't up for this. I mean...I wouldn't be up for this. Especially with a mom as crazy as—"
I pressed my index finger against her lips to cut her off. "Jamie, you're doing it again."
"No, I'm not," she mumbled against my skin.
"Yes, you are. You're rambling. Again." Removing my finger, I sighed and glanced at the large mahogany door. "I told you when I agreed to this that I was in. I'm all the way in with you on this. One hundred percent."
With wide eyes, she shook her head, her thick red curls bouncing. "This is crazy. We are crazy. Especially you! I mean, I was just a lunatic in a coffee shop telling strange men to stop calling, but you were the one who offered to come and be my date for—"
Again, I pressed my finger to her lips. This time with a sly smile. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were doing this rambling thing just to get me to touch you some more."
My teasing caused her brows to drop into a deep V as she glared at me. And I didn't miss the way her cheeks heated with embarrassment. "What? No! I don't want any kind of...there's no touching!"
"I don't know," I drawled, crossing my arms over my chest. "I mean, what if your mom isn't convinced that we are, you know, actually dating? She might be expecting to see a kiss. Or two."
"No kisses, Ollie. No kisses and no touching."
"But what if—"
It was her turn to cut me off. Taking a page out of my book, she covered my mouth with her hand. "No. No buts. No what ifs. No touches. No kisses. No nothing. We just have to sell it as best we can."
When she finally removed her hand, I took a chance and cautiously reached out and placed my hands on her shoulders. "Can you do something for me, Jamie?"
"You're touching me again."
"I know," I said with a smile. Before this girl, I swear I never smiled this much. Which wasn't a good thing. "Just go with it."
"Fine. What."
"Look at me, Jamie."
She shrugged beneath my hands, confusion coloring her face. "I am looking at you."
I shook my head. "No. Look at me, Jamie. Look in my eyes. Good. That's good. Now take a deep breath with me, okay? And again."
She did as I instructed, and I felt her body start to relax beneath mine. I repeated the command a few more times. To be honest, this wasn't just for her. I may not be as crazy nervous as she was right now, but I still had my own fair share of anxiety. But no way in hell was I telling her that. I needed to remain calm enough for the both of us.
"Better?" I asked her softly.
"Yeah," she nodded. "Better. Thanks."
A corner of my mouth lifted, and before I could think better of it, my right hand gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Anytime, Lovette. Now, you ready to do this?"
With a firm nod and another deep breath, Jamie and I both turned and faced the door. I waited a few seconds until she was ready. I mean really ready. Until she reached out and opened the front door to the apartment she shared with her mom.
The thick aroma of Italian food wafted out to us, a clear sign Mrs. Lovette had everything ready for this meet-the-boyfriend-dinner. I could almost feel the mental war going on in Jamie's mind at that moment. The urge to call this whole thing off and never speak to me again. Then there was the solid resolve and determination to beat her mom at this whole relationship control thing. If anyone was stuck between a rock and a hard place right now, it was Jamie Lovette.
Ignoring her no touching rule, I offered her my hand, hoping it would help her. Somehow. Some way. Surprisingly, she took it. And with her fingers intertwined with mine, we stepped inside to meet the infamous Cherise Lovette.
***
I was right about one thing—Jamie came back to the loft. With all of her things she brought to Paris. Of course, she couldn't move in like a normal person. Nope. She had to do it in the middle of the night when I was sleeping.
At least, when she thought I was asleep. She was trying her best to avoid me. That first night, for sure. Now it's been three days and she hasn't come out of the loft.
Each morning I went up to her room and offered her coffee and a bagel.
Each morning she would tell me to stuff it and leave her alone.
Then there was lunch. I stayed away from her door that first afternoon, hoping she would open the damn thing on her own. No dice.
So, I tried to lure her out with dinner. My first thought was Italian food, because I knew how much she enjoyed pasta. But then I remembered that first night I met Cherise and decided against it. The last thing I wanted was for her to be upset by old memories. Especially when all I wanted to do was help her.
Since Italian food was out of the question, I made her second favorite meal. Well, okay, it wasn't really a meal, per se. It was cookies. I baked her cookies. Having never baked cookies in my life, I burnt the first two batches. But then I got the hang of it.
With the whole warehouse smelling like cookies—burnt and non-burnt—I was so sure she was finally going to come out. Again, no dice. She didn't even check to see if the damn place was on fire. Which was a little alarming, when you thought about it.
But I was so sure the cookies were going to work. One quirk of hers was that I knew she loved pastries. Absolutely loved all kinds of sweets. But if cookies didn't bring her out of the loft, I had no idea what would.
I needed to find the right bait.
"Monsieur Lake, so good to see you again."
Needing to get a little break from trying to get Jamie out of her room, I came to my favorite place in all of Paris to satisfy my own sweet tooth.
"Hey, Henri. And how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Ollie. Seriously."
Henri smiled and nodded. "I'll do my best. I have to admit, I was a little worried when I didn't see you the last couple of days."
I offered him an apologetic smile. "Yeah, sorry about that. I had someone move into the warehouse, so I've been—"
"Oh! Did that work out? I sent her there hoping to help her. She seemed so...troubled."
That stopped me dead. I'd been reaching for my wallet to pay for my newest to-go order. I looked back up at him with wide eyes, sure I'd heard him wrong. "What did you say?"
Henri frowned. "The redhead. Jamie? She's been coming here every day for the past two weeks. She told me about her housing situation, so I told her about your place."
The first question that popped in my head was whether or not Henri told her about me specifically. But I already knew the answer to that. If she'd known that I was the one living there and in charge of renting it out, she most likely wouldn't have come.
"You said she came here every day?"
He nodded and I wondered how I never saw her here when I came by. My brain just couldn't comprehend how she and I didn't run into each other. I knew without a doubt that there was no way my eyes skimmed over her. If she had been here when I was here, I would have seen her.
There was no missing Jamie Lovette.
"Is everything alright, Monsieur Lake?"
Blinking away my thoughts, I nodded to Henri. "Yes, everything's fine. And yeah, she moved in and it's been going well." Eh, kinda. "Thanks for sending her to the warehouse."
"Of course. I'm glad she isn't worried about a place to live anymore."
Me too. Now I just needed to get her to come out of that damn loft.
Henri sat my completed order on the counter. When I went to grab it, an idea came to my mind.
The manager frowned when I just stared at him. "Mr. Lake? Is something—"
"Can I ask you for a favor, Henri? It's to help Jamie."
The older man smiled and nodded happily, like he would do anything to help her out. I would too. "How can I help?"
If Jamie had a sweet tooth like me, and she came here every day, then there just might be hope after all to finally get her to open that damn door. Sometimes you just needed the right bait.
Leaning forward on the counter, I glanced over to the pastries. "Tell me, Henri, what did she order when she came here?"
***
Sorry it's late in the evening! Literally falling asleep as I'm typing this because I'm so exhausted haha hope you enjoyed it! I got some good ones coming.
xoxo