Christmas in Paris Read Online Free Page B

She held out her hand. “What do you see?”
    The woman turned over her hand and studied her palm. She glanced up at Isabel and then traced the tips of her fingers.
    â€œYou have an important job at a large company,” she began. “You’ll get a promotion and have an office with floor-to-ceiling windows and a glass desk. I see a shiny gift in your near future.” She looked up. “Something bright and sparkly. It will not be expensive, but it will come to have great value.”
    â€œThat sounds delightful,” Isabel laughed. “Thank you, you’ve made me happy.”
    â€œWait, there’s more,” the fortune-teller interrupted. “You will fall in love with a French aristocrat and get married in an elegant château.” She leaned forward and grabbed Isabel’s wrist. “But there is one short line in the middle of your hand. You must be careful. You will narrowly miss being killed.”
    Isabel jumped as if she had been stung by a bee. She turned and saw Alec standing in front of a wooden chalet filled with gumdrops and candy canes. “I really have to go, I’ll lose my friend.”
    â€œNow I have earned the money.” The fortune-teller tucked the twenty-euro note in her pocket. “Be careful and listen to what I said.”
    *   *   *
    â€œIT’S A WONDER Parisians have decent teeth,” Alec said when she approached the booth. “There’s enough sugar here to solve the national deficit in a third world country.”
    â€œThe ricotta crepes with raspberry sauce were delicious.” Isabel smiled. “But I couldn’t eat another bite.”
    She turned and caught sight of the fortune-teller and felt a slight chill. But that was ridiculous; nothing she said could possibly come true. She was an ordinary woman wearing a patterned scarf and felt coat.
    â€œI’ve always loved magicians,” Isabel exclaimed, walking to the next booth, where a magician was putting on a show. “My mother hired a magician for my fifth birthday party and he made me levitate on a magic carpet.”
    â€œI once saw a magician in the Marais turn a dog into a monkey,” Alec said, joining her.
    â€œThat sounds impressive,” Isabel said.
    â€œNot to the owner of the dog,” Alec mused. “He wanted his dachshund back.”
    The magician reached into his sleeve and pulled out a brightly colored bracelet. He placed three cones on a table and searched the crowd.
    â€œMademoiselle will guess which cone the bracelet is under.” He pointed to Isabel. “If you are correct, the priceless bracelet is yours.”
    â€œI don’t think so.” Isabel blushed. “Pick someone else.”
    â€œYou are a beautiful woman with special powers,” he said in accented English.
    Isabel hesitated and her shoulders relaxed. It was Christmas and she was in Paris—why shouldn’t she do what the magician asked?
    â€œAll right.” She pointed to the red cone. “I choose that one.”
    â€œI’m sorry, that’s not the one.” He revealed the empty cone. “For five euros you can choose again.”
    â€œNo, thank you.” Isabel laughed. “The bracelet is lovely, but I can’t afford it.”
    â€œHere.” Alec reached into his pocket and handed the magician a five-euro note.
    Isabel studied the two remaining cones and chose the blue one.
    â€œThe bracelet is yours.” The magician removed the cone and bowed. “Merry Christmas.”
    â€œWhy did you do that?” Isabel asked as they walked toward the curb. “If I picked the wrong cone, you would have paid five euros for nothing.”
    â€œHe wouldn’t let you choose the wrong one.” Alec ate a gumdrop. “Then the other tourists would leave. Now everyone wants a chance, they’re determined to win on the first try.”
    â€œIt is lovely, thank you.” Isabel glanced