Love Far Away (A Spicy Contemporary Romance) (5 page)

“Ahhh,” said Ashley, stepping out on to the balcony. “I can
sit out here in the morning with a coffee, croissant, and a cigarette!”

“You don’t smoke,” said Becca.

“So I’ll start,” said Ashley. “Paris just seems to call for
a cigarette!”

“Did you guys see the bathrooms?” asked Megan, poking her
head in. “Come here!” We all crowded in. The tile was so polished that we could
see our reflections in it. Each bathroom had a large corner Jacuzzi tub, along
with a soaker shower, and a huge sink and vanity. There were baskets filled
with complementary products- shampoo, conditioner, soaps, lotions, perfume,
moisturizers.

Ashley had wandered in to the other adjoining room. “Free
wine in there,” she said. “Two bottles. So I’m not tired at all right now- are
we going out or what?”

Megan looked at me. “Jules? What do you say?”

“Oh, let’s not,” interrupted Becca.

“Party pooper,” Ashley grumbled.

“Sorry,” said Becca. “But I’m kind of tired from travelling
all day and I’d kind of like to just stay in. It’s eleven-thirty here- we can
drink and watch a movie or something. Then wake up tomorrow all rested and do
some shopping or sightseeing and go out tomorrow night. Isn’t that a better
plan?”

“Yeah, sorry Ashley, but I’m beat too,” Megan admitted.
“Let’s open those bottles of wine and find something good on TV.”

“Jules?” Ashley asked me hopefully.

“I’m all in for tomorrow night,” I told her. “We can go
shopping tomorrow and find something to wear out. I’m pretty sure I have
nothing nice enough to wear out in Paris, anyway. Tomorrow, Ash. We’ll get
dressed up and go to dinner and then find a spot for dancing.

Ashley made a face. “Well, okay,” she said. “But I’m definitely
drinking this wine!”

“Go for it. We can even order room service,” I said. I took
a deep breath. “Girls- this trip is on me. Or rather...on Bradley.”

Ashley and Becca stared at me. “What?” they asked in unison.

“Um- well, it’s going to be a surprise to him,” I said. “But
yup, he’s going to pay for what he did to me, one way or another. I have his
credit card.”

An evil smile spread across Ashley’s face. “Find the room
service menu,” she ordered. “Bradley is going to live to regret the day he
screwed Julia over!”

W
e stayed up until 2 am local time, drinking and
laughing and making outrageous plans to take revenge on Bradley. It was only 8
pm to our bodies so I thought I might take a while to fall asleep, but it had
been such a long day and the bed I collapsed in was so luxurious, I had fallen
asleep within minutes.

When I woke up the next morning, it was eleven already. I
jumped out of bed and shook Megan awake in the bed next to mine. “Megs!”

She rolled over and groaned. “What?”

“It’s eleven! Come on, we’ve wasted almost half the day!”

Megan sat up in bed, yawning, while I grabbed the plush
hotel robe from inside the wardrobe. After an amazing shower with some
wonderful smelling, free bath products, I blow dried my hair. Then I opened my
suitcase to try and choose an outfit for a day of shopping in Paris. I
suspected that no matter what I chose I’d be easy to pick out as an American
tourist, so instead I went for comfort and decided on a cute sundress with flat
open toed sandals.          

As Megan shuffled towards the shower, I opened the door that
joined our room to where Becca and Ashley were sleeping. Becca was sitting on
the bed straightening her hair.

“Ashley’s out on the balcony,” she nodded towards the door.
“We were thinking we could go somewhere for something to eat, then do some
shopping maybe? And since the Eiffel Tower is so close, we could go there too.
Then dinner tonight and go to a club or something.”

“Sure,” I said. “I can’t believe we slept half the day.”

“Well, there’s the time difference,” Becca pointed out.
“Anyway, we’re on vacation, remember? If we want to sleep in, now’s the time to
do it.”

“Right. Go with the flow. No schedules,” I reminded myself.

I walked over to the balcony door and stepped outside.
Ashley was sitting on a wrought iron chair with her legs pulled up, wearing
oversized sunglasses and holding a cigarette. On the table next to her sat a
coffee and a plate with a half-eaten croissant.

“Where did you get that?” I asked her, amazed. “How long
have you been up?”

She shrugged. “An hour or two. Where’d I get what?”

“The cigarette- you don’t smoke. the coffee, the croissant,
and the sunglasses.”

“Bought these online before we left,” she said, gesturing to
the sunglasses. “The coffee and croissant are room service. I went down to the
front desk and got the cigarettes there. The girl handed them over like mints.
This is France, I guess.”

“You don’t even smoke,” I echoed Becca from last night.

“I’ve had like two puffs,” she said. “It’s just nice sitting
on a balcony in Paris with a cigarette. If I tilt my head at this exact angle
and don’t move, I can see the Eiffel Tower between those two buildings.”

“Where? Let me see!”

Ashley stood up and let me sit in her chair. I imitated the
tilt of her head and caught a glimpse of the famous tower in the gap between
two buildings. I sighed happily. “I’m so excited to finally be here,” I said.

After Becca and Megan were ready, the four of us headed out
towards the Champs-Elysees. Paris’s biggest street stretched out before us just
like I’d always imagined it. High fashion boutiques, fancy restaurants and
cafes, and jewelry stores stretched out on both sides. The sidewalks were so
wide they seemed even wider than the street itself. A line of impeccably pruned
green trees separated the sidewalk from the street. We headed down one side of
the street slowly, heading down towards the Arc de Triomphe. We stopped to look
in the windows of some of the shops, but I felt so overwhelmed that I was sure
a snooty Parisian shop assistant would laugh at me and escort me out if I dared
to set foot in the door of Chanel or Dior.

When we reached the end of the street, we stopped at the
massive traffic circle and took pictures of the Arc de Triomphe. “Do you want
to climb to the top?” asked Becca hopefully.

“NO,” said Ashley. “Let’s walk down the other side of the
street. I want to find something to wear out tonight.”

“We’ll do tourist stuff tomorrow, Becca,” I promised her. We
crossed the street and headed down in the other direction until finally Ashley
dragged us in to a Louis Vuitton store. I felt like I had to whisper, like I
was in a museum or something. The saleswoman ignored us at first until Megan
pointed out a beautiful leather purse to me.

“You should get yourself something like that,” she said.
“Honestly, even if it’s not to get back at Bradley, you could carry that bag
every day.”

“You think?” I asked her.

“Of course. Excuse me- um,
excusez-moi
...” Megan
gestured to the saleswoman, who came over with a doubtful look on her face. “My
friend would like to see this handbag, please.”

The saleswoman took it out and handed it to me. I put it
over my shoulder and looked in the mirror. It was a beautiful bag. The leather
was heavy but soft to the touch, and the style was so classic I could use it for
years to come. “I love it,” I admitted.

“Three thousand euros,” said the saleswoman.

The old, practical Julia winced at the price. That was a few
mortgage payments, or a new dining room set to replace the one that had gotten
scratched in the move! That was summer camp for Henry and horseback riding
lessons for Olivia. But the new, go with the flow Julia who sometimes took time
to do something nice for herself, looked in the mirror and saw a beautiful
handbag. “I’ll take it,” I declared.

After the saleswoman had wrapped it up for me and I’d handed
over Bradley’s credit card, we decided to get something to eat. A cafe was a
few doors down; it was a cute sidewalk café, so ordered sandwiches and wine. I
couldn’t stop sneaking glances down at my new handbag.

Lunch was expensive, but with Bradley footing the bill I was
able to relax and enjoy the atmosphere of sitting on a sunny sidewalk on one of
the most fashionable streets in the world, watching tourists and Parisians
hurry by.

When lunch was over we continued down the Champs-Elysees,
mostly window shopping but occasionally going inside a store. We came across a
shopping arcade, where we discovered a store that sold dresses that would be
great for going out tonight. It was almost like high school again, as the four
of us crowded in to the tiny dressing rooms, trading dresses, going back for
different sizes, ooh-ing and ahh-ing and sometimes shaking our heads until we
had each found a dress we were happy with.

“I can’t wait to wear this out tonight,” said Ashley, as we
left the store.

“Where do you guys want to go?” asked Megan. “For dinner and
dancing, I mean.”

“I could Google-“ I started to say, but Megan shook her
head.

“Remember, Jules? No planning. Just let what happens,
happen.”

“Agreed,” said Ashley. “We can ask at the front desk of the
hotel a good area to visit, but once we’re there, we just follow our noses and
find a great spot.”

It was four o’clock by that time, and I knew the French
wouldn’t eat dinner until late, so when Becca asked if we could walk across the
bridge down the street from our hotel to visit the Eiffel Tower, we all agreed.
We stopped in at our hotel to stash our shopping bags in our rooms, and then
walked across the bridge spanning the Seine.

The Eiffel Tower stood in the middle of a huge garden, and
the lawns were covered in tourists. Some were big groups- school groups in
matching t-shirts, or a busload of Japanese tourists crowding in for a group
photo- and others were smaller...families, couples, young college age kids. For
a minute I felt jealous of the college kids, getting out and travelling the
world before a husband and family came along. I’d married Bradley right out of
college and we’d had Henry right away. At the time it had felt so right, and
we’d been so happy to start a family. I didn’t regret having my son, but I
couldn’t help but wonder for the first time what my life might have been like
if I hadn’t stayed with Bradley.

The lineup to buy tickets to the top was long, but it passed
quickly as we people-watched and chatted about tonight. Ashley kept bringing up
revenge sex, but I brushed her off. We inched forward in line until it was
finally our turn to be crammed into an elevator with about fifty other people.
We rode a series of three elevators all the way to the top, where we squeezed
our way through the crowd until we managed to get a spot at the railing to look
out over Paris.

“Look! That’s where we were,” said Megan, pointing to the
wide Champs-Elysees and Arc de Triomphe in the distance.

Becca shaded her eyes. “There’s the Louvre,” she pointed.
“Can we go there tomorrow? And Notre-Dame?”

“I’ll probably be sleeping off my hangover until noon,” said
Ashley.

“I’ll go with you, Becca,” I offered, since it seemed a sin
to visit Paris and not see the Mona Lisa.

“I’ll go too,” said Megan. “As long as we’re not leaving too
early.”

“Is nobody else going to have a crazy good time with me
tonight?” Ashley asked, disappointed.

“Of course we are,” I told her. “That’s what we’re here for,
isn’t it? Let loose, relax, have a little fun.”

“A lot of fun,” Ashley corrected me.

“Museums can be fun too,” Becca protested. Ashley laughed.

I tuned out my friends’ silly argument and looked back out
at the city of Paris. I’d dreamed of visiting here so often when I was younger-
what little girl doesn’t dream of Paris? I’d imagined standing at the top of
the Eiffel Tower a hundred times before. It was just that in my dreams, it had
always been Bradley standing up here next to me. I pictured his face the night
of Olivia’s birthday party, when he’d told me he didn’t love me anymore, and
tightened my grip on the railing. How could he have done this to me?

***

Back at the hotel, we took turns
showering and doing our makeup and hair in the huge gilded mirrors in the
bathroom. I zipped up my new body-hugging dress and took out my trusty black
heels from my suitcase. I chose a necklace and some earrings to go with my
dress, and went over to the mirror to see how I looked.

“You look great,” Megan told me. “Only-“

“What?” I asked. “Did I leave a tag on my dress?”

“No, it’s not that,” said Megan. “It’s just...do you think
you’re going to leave your wedding ring on?”

My hand flew to my ring automatically. It was a small,
simple ring that had been all we could afford when we’d been fresh out of
college. We’d discussed upgrading and getting me a new wedding set for our
tenth anniversary, but I was sentimental about my little ring.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not sure I can bring myself to
take it off just yet.”

“That’s okay,” said Megan gently. “Do you know if Bradley’s
taken his off yet?”

“Bradley hasn’t worn his regularly for a few months. He said
it was irritating his skin- he thinks he’s allergic to it or something,” I
said. As the words came out of my mouth, I realized that I’d never noticed any
rash or irritation on his hands.

My face must have changed, because Megan looked concerned.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing. Hey, I’m going to turn my phone
back on, okay? I want to check in with my mom and make sure the kids are okay.”

I went out to the balcony and turned my phone on. While I
waited for it to boot up, I looked out over the rooftops of Paris and sighed. I
was supposed to be coming here to escape, but it seemed that everywhere were
little reminders of my old life.

My phone vibrated, indicating I had new messages. I picked
it up and almost dropped it again right away when I saw the number of messages
I had- thirty texts, five voicemails, and dozens of missed calls. Had something
happened to Henry and Olivia at my parents’ place? Without even checked the
content of the messages, I called my mom straight away.

She answered on the third ring. “Hello? Julia, is that you?”

“Is everything okay?” I asked frantically.

“Of course,” my mom replied calmly. “What’s wrong? Did you
get my text? I let you know this morning that the kids had a great night last
night and are excited to be here. We’re just sitting down to lunch now. Say hi,
kids!” In the background, I could hear a chorus of ‘Hi, mommy’ from Henry and
Olivia.

“You didn’t call me a bunch of times and leave some
voicemails?” I asked her.

“No, why?”

“Oh...no reason.” I chatted with her briefly, and then said
a quick hello to Henry and Olivia, before hanging up before I could go in to my
messages and look at them. If it wasn’t the kids, then it had to be...

Bradley. Bradley. Bradley. Every missed call, voicemail, and
text- save the one from my mother letting me know the kids were doing great-
was from Bradley. I listened to one voicemail and heard a stream of profanity
directed at me. Somewhere in there I heard him mention “wifi password”.

Ashley stuck her head out the balcony door that led to the
other room. “Who’s yelling at you?” she asked. “Sounds pissed.”

“Bradley,” I said.

“What’s he so mad about? Begging you to come home and says
he’s learned his lesson?”

“No,” I said, scrolling through the texts to see if they
were all along the same lines. They were. “Before I left, I changed the wifi
password.”

Ashley’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”

I nodded.

“Wow,” she said. “Good for you, Julia! Honestly, I didn’t
think you had it in you. First the wifi password, then the credit card...maybe
you’re learning how to get even.”

“I think I am,” I said. I stood up and went back in to my
room. In one quick motion, I took off my wedding ring and tucked it inside my
jewelry case.