L'amour

Romance
2005-01-12

My name is Jake Walsh.   I guess if you had to describe me in one word, romantic would be pretty close.   I've had more than my fair share of crushes, and quite a few girlfriends.   But unlike my friends, who like to go on and on about which cheerleader they fucked last night, I'm just looking for, as weird as it may seem for a college freshman, someone who I can settle down with, maybe even start a family.   Lots of times, they've ridiculed me for that.   But that hasn't changed my mind.
The only problem is, so far, I haven't found anyone like that yet.   As I said, I've had plenty of girlfriends, but not one of them interested me.   Some were silly little flaws - this one girl I dated, maybe just on a pity date, we had sex, and as soon as I came she shouted "JUMPING JEHOSEPHAT!"  I knew right then and there it wasn't going to work - but sometimes, the truth really did hurt.   That's where this story begins.
I stepped out of the tube connecting the plane to Paris Airport.   For a moment, I just stood still, taking in the sight of it and trying to forget. My last girlfriend, Rose, and I, we were really close.   She really seemed to love me, and I sure as hell loved her back.   And it wasn't just lust.   It was real love.

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    Once, we went out into a field in the middle of the night and made love out there.   Romantic?  You bet.   It was wonderful, and I wondered how much better things could get. Soon, I found out.   It turned out she got bored with me and started seeing someone else.   When I found out and asked her, calm as could be, if she wanted to break up with me, she just exploded.   She ranted on and on about how I treated her like a bitch - which was not true, I might add - and how she hated me from the start.   That hurt a lot more than any other girl I'd ever liked.
So I decided to just go somewhere.   Just to forget, that's all.   And, as far as I can remember, the only reason I picked France was so that I could get as far away from her as I could while staying as comfortable as I could away from home.   Not once did it cross my mind that I might have found another girl there.
The cab pulled up right underneath the sign: Westin Paris.   I handed the driver his fare and stepped out. The hotel was a huge structure.

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    There had to be at least thirty floors there, with a huge lobby, complete with fountain, plush chairs, everything.   I made my way up to the front desk.
"Bonjour," the lady behind the desk said.
"Uh, yeah, hi," I replied.   Although I knew some French, I wasn't confident enough to speak it.   "I have a room reserved.   Walsh?"
"Walsh?  Let me see, sir.   W. . . w. . . yes, I see.   Jake Walsh, correct?"  I nodded my assent.

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    "I'm sorry, sir, the room isn't quite ready yet.   If you give us your cell phone number, we'll call you when it is. "  I told it to her and stepped outside, wondering what to do to kill some time.   I decided to take a little stroll, see what all was around.
Lots of places were shops, mostly ladies' shops.   I walked for what seemed like forever, the walls on both sides of the street melting into monotony.   Finally, I passed what looked like a small cafe.   Deciding I could use a drink, I decided to go in. It wasn't too crowded.   A few tables were occupied, but there were still a lot left.   I walked up to the counter and asked for a small decaf coffee.   The woman handed it to me, and I walked off and sat at a table close to a window.   Some of the other people were smoking, typing on laptops, others were couples chatting happily, not a care in the world. . .

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  For a while, I just stared out the window, my thoughts elsewhere.   Although I tried to console myself that I was better off without Rose, her unwarranted anger towards me felt like a knife wound in my chest.   I wanted to forget her, but the pain was just too much.
"Excusez-moi?" a voice sounded from above me.   I looked up to find myself staring at the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen.   Her hair was gold and seemed to catch the sunlight.   Her eyes were a calming shade of blue, and she had a perfect set of ivory-white teeth.   Her breasts, not too big but not too small either, hung at her chest in a sophisticated way I'd never seen before.   She was a few inches smaller than me, but she looked about my age.   She was smiling. "Is anyone else sitting here?" she asked, a French accent thickening her words.   I shook my head no and she sat down.   I noticed that there were still a lot of empty tables left, but I was too enthralled by her to care.   It wasn't just looks.   Something else about her seemed to pull me closer to her.

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"Are you from around here?" she asked.   I shook my head no again.
"No," I tried to say as calm as I could.   "I'm American. "  She made a soft 'oh!' of surprise.   "And you?"
"I'm from Lyons," she replied.   "Just visiting here. "  I nodded. "Me too," I said.   She stared at me, as if trying to read something on my face.
"You seem sad," she said suddenly.   I was a bit taken aback, but I nodded anyway.   "Why?"I worked my mouth up and down, trying to think of the right thing to say.
"Oh, it's okay," she said hurriedly, holding up her hands.   "I probably shouldn't've asked.

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  "
"It's okay," I said.   "It's just. . . kind of hard to talk about, that's all. "  She nodded sympathetically.
"Just here to get away?" she asked.   I nodded, trying to change the subject.
"So, you're from Lyons?" I asked finally.   "That's surprising.   Your English is perfect. "  She smiled shyly.
"Thanks," she said.   "I try.   My name's Sophie.

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  ""Jake," I replied.   "Nice to meet you, Sophie. "I found it very easy to talk to her then.   We sat for a long time and chatted about the weather, where we lived, everything.   When she got up, I was sad to see her go.
"It was nice talking to you," she said, bending down and kissing my cheeks.   Something about that made something click in my head.
"Listen," I said, calling after her.   "How'd you like to go to dinner tonight?  My treat. "  She looked back at me for a while, and I was scared she would say no.   But she smiled and nodded. "Seven o'clock," she said.   "Dominique's.   That's where I'd recommend. "  I nodded.

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  "I'll meet you there," I said.   She nodded and walked away.
The room amazingly still wasn't ready, so I ended up changing in a public restroom and making my way up to the restaurant feeling happier than I had in days.   She was really something, that was for sure.   Something about her - couldn't quite put my finger on it, though - made her just irresistible to me.
I made it to Dominique's with a few minutes to spare.   Sophie was waiting, wearing a very attractive dress, dark blue, with her hair falling down past her shoulders. "Good to see you," she whispered when she saw me, and kissed my cheeks again.   By now, I'd pretty much figured that as a thing of custom, and so I kissed her back. "Shall we go in, then?" I asked.   She nodded, and we walked inside.
About an hour later, I leaned back in my chair and sighed. "That was delicious," I said.   She sighed also. "I could just sit here forever," she declared, and then looked up at me.

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    "So, how long are you in Paris?""Two weeks," I replied.   "You?""Same.   Where are you staying?""Well, I don't know," I said.   "I'm supposed to be at a hotel, but I think they forgot about me. "  She laughed softly.
.

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