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Authors: Lisa Schroeder

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BOOK: My Secret Guide to Paris
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I
believe your brother fancies my sister,” the girl next to me said. Her British accent told me she wasn’t French like I thought, but English.

I looked up from the notes I was reading. Justin was smiling like a crazy person as he talked to the pretty girl beside him. She was hanging on to every word he said, as if he was the King of England.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” my seatmate asked me.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve never thought about it.”

“My sister was quite sure she’d meet someone in Paris and fall madly in love. After all, it’s the most romantic city in the world.”

“That’s what I hear,” I said. “One thing’s for sure. People kiss a lot.”

I turned to look at the girl with the red beret. I noticed she had on a very fashionable red coat to go along with the beret. “I’m Phoebe,” she said. “I’m from London.”

I nodded. “I’m Nora, from New York.”

Phoebe’s pretty green eyes got big and round. “New York? I’ve always wanted to go there. To New York City, I mean.”

I smiled. “I live in Brooklyn, but we go into the city a lot. Both of my parents work in Manhattan.”

She pointed to the notes in my hand. “What are you reading? If you don’t mind sharing.”

“My grandma has made up a treasure hunt around the city of Paris for me. She gave me seven envelopes and a map with places to visit. I just opened the first envelope to see where I’m going.”

“What a smashing idea,” Phoebe said with a grin. “What will you find along the way? Do you know?”

“No, I don’t know what she has planned, exactly. But back home, there’s a locked box in my grandma’s trunk that I think is meant for me to open. Except I don’t have the key. I have a strong feeling the key is somewhere in Paris, and these envelopes are going to help me find it.”

“You and your brother, you’re here with your grandmother, then?”

I shook my head and told her how I came to find the box and the map and everything else.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she said. “But isn’t it wonderful that she planned out this adventure for you before she died? It’s like her last gift to you. Where are you going first?”

I opened the note I hadn’t had a chance to read. “I’m not sure, but let’s find out.”

Phoebe peered over my shoulder as I read the second note that had been tucked into the first envelope.

THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE PARIS, PART 1

Of course, Paris is known for its chocolate. Today, you will drink the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had in what I’ve come to think of as a chocolate-lover’s paradise. Take the enclosed money and visit Jean-Paul Hévin’s chocolate shop. Jean-Paul is a master chocolatier, as you will soon discover, and his hot chocolate was recently voted the best in Paris.

On the first floor of his darling shop, you will find chocolates and pastries in a boutique-like setting. Upstairs is a tearoom where you can sit and relax and enjoy your hot chocolate.

This chocolate shop isn’t far from the Louvre and is fairly easy to find. Please see the map and the enclosed note with directions. Once you’re seated, please ask to speak to a friend of mine, Annabelle, who works there.

Enjoy your hot chocolate, my dear granddaughter!

With love,

Grandma Sylvia

I looked at Phoebe and smiled. “Hot chocolate. My favorite.”

She licked her lips. “Mmm, mine, too.”

“Next stop is ours,” Justin called out to me.

“We’re getting off, too, Phoebe,” her sister said.

Phoebe looked at me with her eyebrows raised. “I wonder, would you like some company on your first little adventure?”

Okay, honestly, it seemed like I’d known Phoebe for ten years rather than ten minutes. She was warm and friendly and easy to talk to. “Oh my gosh. I would love that!” I said. “Do you think your sister will let you go?”

“Look at them,” she whispered. “They will be more than happy to be rid of us, I’m sure.”

“I don’t want my brother to know what we’re doing,” I whispered back. “He doesn’t know about any of this. No one does, except you and my best friend back home.”

She nodded, telling me she understood.

When the train stopped, we all got off. Phoebe introduced me to her sister, Alice, and I introduced Phoebe to Justin.

“May Nora and I go off on our own for a little while?” Phoebe asked.

Alice looked at Justin. “It’s fine with me. What about you?”

He shrugged. “Sure, as long as I check in with Nora once in a while, I think it’s all right. Why don’t we meet up in front of the Arc in three hours?”

I looked at my watch, thankful Mom had made me wear it for this trip. “Okay. See you then.”

“Give me a call if something comes up,” Justin said. “You have my number, right?”

“Yes. I’ve got it.”

And with that, we said good-bye and went our separate ways.

“Have you been to the Louvre yet?” Phoebe asked as we walked.

“No. I’m sure we’ll go at some point. My mother loves art. She actually works at the Metropolitan Museum of Art back home.”

“Very nice,” Phoebe said.

We walked past the fountains and the large glass pyramid that sits in front of the Louvre. It was strange to see something so modern standing next to the beautiful museum that looked like something from the Renaissance.

“What’s the glass pyramid for?” I asked Phoebe.

“It’s the entrance to the museum,” she explained.

“I can’t believe how big the Louvre is. There’s no way you could get through it all in one day, is there?”

“I don’t believe so. My father says most people choose the pieces they most want to see and focus on those.”

I glanced over at her. “Is that who you’ve come to Paris with? Your dad?”

She nodded. “Yes. He’s here for business. He’s an antiques dealer, and so he comes to Paris a couple of times a year to see what he can find. My sister and I don’t usually come along, but this time, well …”

She didn’t finish her sentence. I wasn’t sure if I should press her to explain or not. I didn’t want to stick my nose in where it didn’t belong. After all, I’d just met the girl.

“I like your beret,” I said, deciding to change the subject. “It’s very, what’s the word?”

She laughed. “French?” I laughed too. “Parisians don’t actually wear berets much; people in other countries just think they do. But it matches my red coat and so I decided to wear it.”

“My grandma worked in fashion design. I wish she was here to take me shopping.” I looked down at the jeans and the scuffed-up Toms I wore. “I am so clueless when it comes to fashion.”

“If you have time,” Phoebe said as we crossed the street, “you should browse the windows on Avenue Montaigne. It’s where all the high-fashion stores are, like Dior, Chanel, and Ralph Lauren. Maybe the mannequins in the window will inspire you.”

“I couldn’t afford any of those clothes.”

“Oh no, but you see, you don’t buy the clothes there. You simply get ideas and then go to the flea markets to shop.”

“I might have to worry about fashion another time,” I told her with a smile. “I have a key to find.”

It wasn’t long before we stood in front of a big picture window, staring at silvery boxes filled with chocolates and unique chocolate creations like a high-heeled shoe and the Eiffel Tower.

“Come on,” Phoebe said. “Let’s queue.”

“Let’s what?” I asked.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot for a moment that you’re an American. To
queue
means to ‘get in line.’ ”

So that’s what we did. We got in line and waited to enter the chocolate-lover’s paradise. And when we finally did enter, I couldn’t believe my eyes: case after case of chocolates and the most beautiful-looking desserts I’d seen yet.

“Look,
macarons
,” I said, pointing. “We had some of those yesterday. They are so good.”

“My guess is they are especially delicious here. Everything looks superb.” She lowered her voice. “And expensive.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. “My grandma’s paying for everything.”

After we looked around for a few minutes, we made our way upstairs, where, thankfully, a spot for two had just opened up. The tearoom wasn’t very big, but it felt very chic and French.

“Bonjour, mademoiselles,”
a waitress said, handing us menus.

“Bonjour,”
we replied.

“Parlez-vous anglais?”
Phoebe asked.

“Yes, but of course,” the waitress replied.

“Can we have two hot chocolates, please?” I asked the waitress.

“We have many varieties,” she replied. “Would you like me to go over them with you?”

Phoebe and I both nodded, so the young woman told us our choices. Phoebe decided on the regular hot chocolate while I chose the raspberry swirl. The waitress also showed us their dessert menu. So many of the cakes and pastries looked really rich, plus they were pretty expensive. I decided we’d have one of the smaller things on the menu.

“Can we each have one of these chocolate crisps?” I asked, pointing to the picture. They looked like a wafer cookie coated in chocolate.

“Is that everything?” she asked.

We both nodded. As the waitress started to leave, Phoebe looked at me, her eyes searching mine. I knew she was wondering why I hadn’t asked if Annabelle was working. Honestly, I was too afraid.

So Phoebe took it upon herself to ask. “Wait. Pardon me, but I was wondering, do you know of an Annabelle who works here?”

The waitress turned around. “Yes. Why?”

“Is she here today?” Phoebe asked.


Oui.
Would you like to speak to her?”

Phoebe looked at me and then replied,
“Oui, s’il vous plaît!”

A
s we waited for Annabelle to arrive, I put my hand in my pocket and squeezed the button I’d placed there that morning: a pink-and-green plaid button that made me think of fun. I’d been looking forward to this treasure hunt for what seemed like forever. I was excited, but nervous, too. Holding a little reminder of Grandma in my hand helped me to relax.

A couple of minutes later, a woman about my mom’s age came to our table. She had short blonde hair and pretty blue eyes.


Bonjour, mademoiselles.
How may I help you?”

I swallowed hard. Suddenly, this seemed so strange, going around the city, asking people if they knew my grandma and if she’d said anything about a key. But Annabelle was waiting for me to say something, and Phoebe would think I was crazy if I said, “Never mind.”

I reminded myself that Grandma Sylvia had done a lot to make this trip special. I couldn’t let her down. I just couldn’t. I squeezed the button even tighter as I quietly said, “Hello. My name is Nora, and this is Phoebe.”

“Bonjour,”
Phoebe said.

“I wanted to meet you,” I told Annabelle, “because I believe you knew my grandmother. Sylvia Parker?”

She looked like I’d just told her there would be no flowers blooming this spring. “Ah, my dear, it is so very nice to meet you, though I am sorry for your loss.”

“How did you find out?” I asked. “About … what happened?”

“One of Sylvia’s friends here in Paris told me of the news. So you came to visit the City of Light anyway, like you had planned?”

“Yes,” I said. “My mother, my brother, and I came together.”

She looked around the shop. “Where are they?”

“Oh, they’re not here,” I said. “I wanted to come by myself. My grandma planned this really neat—”

“Oh no. Nora, this is terrible. You must go get your mother right away. You see, your grandmother sent along a box for you, but she gave me explicit instructions not to give it to you unless you and your mother were together.”

My mouth dropped open as I looked at Phoebe and then back at Annabelle. “What is it? What did she send?”

“I’m afraid I do not know. It is wrapped and the card she wrote to me way back in December told me I must give it to you and your mother when you came to visit, sometime toward the end of March.”

“Oh, please,” I asked, “couldn’t you give it to me now? I don’t know when I can get back here again with my mother. I didn’t know I was supposed to bring her with me.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I cannot do that. I am sorry. When do you leave Paris?”

I slinked down in my chair. “Saturday.”

She smiled. “Ah, see, there is plenty of time. Come back with your mother, and I will give you the package.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I must return to work now, but I will see you again soon, yes?”

She waved as I muttered, “Yes.” Although in that moment, I wasn’t sure if that would be the case or not.

“Well, that was disappointing,” Phoebe said. “What are you going to do now?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure what to do, honestly.”

Just then, our waitress brought out two steaming mugs of cocoa and two small plates with our chocolate crisps.

“Merci,”
Phoebe said while I said, “Thank you.”

I don’t know why I was so nervous about using the French I’d learned. Afraid I’d mess up, maybe? Which was kind of silly, since it’s pretty hard to mess up
merci
. Thank goodness Phoebe was much braver than me.

“Will there be anything else?” the waitress asked.

“No, we’re good, thanks,” I said.

“Ooh,” Phoebe said, pointing to my mug after the waitress left. “Look at the swirls of red raspberry. How pretty.”

Phoebe picked up her chocolate crisp and took a bite. “Mmmm. Scrumptious.”

I took a bite, too. “Mmm. Yes, it is.”

“Nora, I do believe we are smack-dab in the middle of the Land of Scrumptious.”

My hot chocolate was delicious, too: rich and creamy with just the right amount of raspberry flavoring.

After we’d tasted all of our goodies, Phoebe said, “I think you should open another envelope. See where she wants you to go after this. Maybe we’ll have more luck there.”

“I wish I could have convinced Annabelle to give me the package,” I told Phoebe, wrapping my hands around the mug to warm them. “I’m dying to know what’s in it.”

“I know. But try to forget about it for now. This is all great fun, the mystery of each place and what we might find. Enjoy yourself. Whatever will be will be. That’s what my mum says, anyway.”

I took a deep breath. “You’re right.”

“Now let’s see where we’re going next!” she said, excitement all over her face.

“Can I ask you a question first?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“Why isn’t your mom with you?”

Phoebe slowly spun her spoon around the mug of her hot chocolate. “The truth is, my mum and dad got in a huge fight about finances. You see, my sister is supposed to go to university in the autumn, and she thought my dad had saved up so she could go. Only it turns out there’s no money saved at all. That’s why we’re here this week. My dad is scouring the city, hoping we’ll find an item or two—or ten—that will fetch a fortune.”

“Are you and your sister helping him?”

She looked down at her half-eaten chocolate crisp and picked at it. “Yes, or at least, we’re supposed to be. He thought we could cover more ground by splitting up. But we don’t know what to look for. He’s tried to teach us, but it’s difficult to know unless you’ve been studying it for years like he has. Besides, he doesn’t understand that although he finds antiques hunting highly enjoyable, Alice and I find it utterly boring.”

I thought of my mom and her doll obsession. “I totally understand.” I reached down to get my messenger bag. “So, are you ready to see where my grandma wants me to go next?”

A grin spread across her face. “I can’t wait!”

I opened envelope number two and read aloud.

THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE PARIS, PART 2

Wasn’t that chocolate shop divine? I hope you enjoyed yourself. There is something so comforting, so soothing about a mug of hot chocolate. No matter how old I am, I think chocolat chaud will always have the ability to take me back to special times, when all of the world’s problems seemed to melt away by consuming one simple beverage.

Chocolate is something Paris does very well. Another thing it does well is art. When tourists think of art and Paris, most think of the Louvre. And yes, it is a very special place and I plan on taking you there for a visit. Today, however, I’d like you and your mother to go to a small museum called the Orangerie, so you can see my favorite painting.

I know how much your mother loves art, and in fact, I still have some of the paintings she made as a child. I’m so glad she grew up and found a job that puts her passion to good use. I’m one proud mother, that’s for sure.

A friend of mine, Georges, works at the Orangerie, and he’ll be so happy to see you. He has something very special for you! As the mark on the map indicates, you’ll find it in the Jardin des Tuileries. Entrance fees and directions enclosed. Please note, the museum is closed on Tuesdays.

Have fun!

With love,

Grandma Sylvia

*  *  *

“Good thing it’s Monday,” Phoebe said, taking another bite of her crisp before she pushed her chair back, her eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Are you ready to see what’s next?”

Okay, honestly, I was so happy to have Phoebe with me. Knowing that things hadn’t gone so well with Annabelle, I was nervous about the next part of my adventure. But Phoebe’s excitement was contagious. And really, we had no idea what was waiting for us. Anything could happen.

BOOK: My Secret Guide to Paris
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