was excited to see her. He could admit it to himself. He liked her. There. He admitted it. They didn’t have a future together, obviously, and there was a good possibility that she hated him right now but still, he liked her. He wanted them to be friends.
They would be in one another’s lives forever thanks to Ivy and Daniel and the new little baby on the way. He might as well get this apology over with and start making amends.
Ivy seemed happy with this new solution but Daniel was eyeing him. Jack could practically see the gears turning. When Ivy and Lucia left, happy in the knowledge that Holly would be found and not be left wandering the streets of Paris, France, for eternity, he was left alone once again with Daniel and Brunelli.
“What’s this all about?” Brunelli asked.
“Don’t tell me you suddenly developed an urge to eat croissants,” Daniel said.
“I told you, my brother moved there with his wife and—”
“Since when are you and your brother on speaking terms?” Daniel asked.
Jack grabbed some fruit and ignored the comment, focusing instead on juggling the apples and orange he held in his hands. “What’s your solution?” he asked. “You don’t want to leave Ivy. Are you really going to ask Grandpa here to go on this wild goose chase? No offense, Brunelli.”
The old man shrugged off his apology, “It’s true, I’m old.”
Daniel was still watching him with narrowed eyes. “Does your sudden desire to go to France have anything to do with this?” He pulled the magazine out from underneath Jack and held it up accusingly.
“I told you, nothing happened.” Jack snatched the magazine out of his hand. “Nothing of significance, anyway.” Unless you found amazingly perfect moments significant. In which case, maybe he’d lied.
“Look, I don’t know how she feels about me right now or about the picture, but I do know that I owe her an apology—” He held up a hand to stop the question that was coming. “I want to make things right. For Ivy’s sake and for Holly’s. I don’t want things to be weird between us.”
Daniel leaned back in his chair, apparently accepting Jack’s explanation.
Ivy came back into the room and handed Jack a sheet of paper. “I don’t know if this will help but here are the names of some hostels where she might be staying. I know she likes this neighborhood.”
“Hostels?” Brunelli spit out the word with distaste. “Holly can’t stay at a place like that, I refuse to allow it. Jack, you will bring her to my pied-a-terre. No friend of mine will stay with…backpackers.” The word backpackers sounded like a curse word coming from Brunelli.
“Sure thing, boss,” Jack said, as Brunelli continued to grumble about filthy backpackers. He looked over the list of hostels. They were all in Montmartre, a well-known tourist destination.
“So Holly has been to Paris before,” Jack said, taking the paper from her. “That’s good.” Ivy gave him a funny look and he added, “At least she won’t be intimidated by the big city.”
That made Ivy laugh. “Trust me, Jack, there’s not much in this world that intimidates Holly.”
* * * *
Maybe it was time to phone a friend.
Holly was slumped over in her stool at the bar in the lobby of a hotel. The fifth hotel she’d been to that day, to be exact. Jet lagged and exhausted from trekking all over the city, she was ready to call it quits.
Maybe tomorrow she’d call her mom and ask her to find out where Benjamin and his IT buddies were hiding out. The thought of explaining herself to her mother was not at all appealing. Maybe she would call around to some other hotels tonight. Her sluggish brain refused to even contemplate next steps without a glass of wine in her hand.
Flagging down the bartender at the other end of the bar, she opted for choice number three—declare temporary defeat and enjoy the best city in the world while she could. After all, once she and Benjamin started a family she