Lib Novel Page 4
Pia gnawed on her lip and debated whether or not she should tell Carol that despite all the films suggesting it was a terrible idea, she’d agreed to get in a car with a stranger in a foreign country. The woman already viewed her like a surrogate child, though she was only forty. She also knew Pia’s actual parents and might tell on her if her supply ofmaja blancastarted running low. The woman would do very bad things for Pia’s coconut pudding.
“Um…”
Carol, who’d been preparing trays of surprisingly pretty charcuterie, looked up. When Pia didn’t continue, she went back to nestling madeleines into beds of blanched almonds. Tiny bunches of grapes followed.
“I just agreed to get pastries and coffee with Seat Two after we land. Actually, he didn’t say coffee, but I’m going to see if I can get an espresso out of the deal.”
Carol dropped a bunch of grapes onto the counter with athunk. “Pia Taparo! Well, I never!”
Pia snorted. Carol was right, though. She rarely even flirted with passengers, unless being curious counted. For some passengers, any attention seemed to count as flirting. Agreeing to a date was entirely out of character. Uncommonly handsome and quietly confident must be the combination to finally unlock her bolder side. At least in theory.
“Who is he? What do we know about him?”
Pia shrugged. “His name’s Matt. He’s twenty-nine. Owns a company.”
Carol’s lips jutted out in displeasure. “His name is Matt? That’s all you’ve got? Your uncle Rey would positivelypunishme if something happened to you on the streets of Paris.”
“Gross,” Pia muttered. Yes, she understood objectively that her Tito Rey was attractive. She also recalled too clearly the first Sunday dinner Carol had attended with her family. Or had she attended? Because she’d disappeared with Rey for over an hour. Her parents’ home was not that spacious. A tour shouldn’t have taken that long. Pia shuddered at the memory.
“Well, there’s only one way to solve this.” Head high and shoulders resolute, Carol marched over to Seat Two, Pia hissing after her.
“Carol, you evil Oregonian! Don’t you dare!”
But Carol was already at Matt’s side. His dancing-eyed glance sent Pia scurrying back around the corner into the kitchenette.Damn it!Now she felt like a child instead of a twenty-three-year-old professional. Everyone in her life was so damn involved.What’s next, Pia? Why aren’t you happy, Pia? What do you want to do with your life, Pia?
Pia couldn’t answer those questions. Any of them. Now this.
A few tense moments later, Carol wandered back into the kitchenette, smiling smugly and waving a navy-blue business card in the air. “Mattias Geier, CEO of a company called OrbitAll.”
Pia snatched the card away, fingering the raised logo in the corner. Yellow stars, three stationary and one swooping around the rest like a shooting star might, if those were real. Even without a college education, Pia knew that “falling stars” were just space trash unlucky enough to collide with Earth’s atmosphere.
“OrbitAll,” she murmured. Obviously, a company associated with space. She’d dig for more details after he delivered on the hot croissants he claimed to be so adept at tracking down.
It was just pastries, she reminded herself. No cardinal sins would be broken. Just a short ride with a handsome stranger with a sexy accent and his own space company. No big deal.
“He agreed to the espresso, by the way.”
Pia beamed. She had barely left the terminals of Charles de Gaulle Airport. Now, because of Matt, a long-standing Paris wish would be granted. So what if the little excursion had nothing to do with art or religion or culture and everything to do with carbs?
Tonight, just for tonight, she wouldn’t let her worries win.
Carol smiled back. “I’m proud of you for agreeing to a date with this guy. You deserve some fun.” She took the card back with gentle fingers. “But know that I will send your uncle and all his friends after this Mattias, and then I’ll go after him myself, if you aren’t bright-eyed and smiling when we get back on this plane tomorrow.”
Pia rolled her eyes. “I’ll be at the hotel tonight. It’s just coffee and pastries.”
“Darling, it’s Paris.” Carol tipped her chin toward Matt, who was bent over his iPad again. “And just look at him. That man was made for romance. Just coffee and pastries, my ass.”
Carol had been right about the romance. Matt had waited patiently for Pia to finish deplaning duties. He’d dragged her little suitcase through the airport like he wasn’t bothered by the short handle that made him scrunch sideways as he walked. He’d moved close when they were blasted with cooling evening air outside arrivals, as if to share body heat.
All for a cup of coffee and half-a-dozen croissants she probably wouldn’t even share with him.
When his warm jacket landed around her shoulders, Pia briefly considered texting Carol to confess that she’d been right about something for once. Instead, she pretended she did spontaneous things like go on dates in Paris, and snuggled into the warmth of Matt’s coat. She also thanked him for the thousandth time.
And for the thousandth time, his answer, all lifted lips and kind, ocean-deep eyes, sent shivers through her body. “It’s my pleasure, Pia.”
Damn, he looked good in that sweater. Standing. In general. She wondered how much longer she could pretend the circling butterflies in her stomach were about pastries.
A sleek silver Mercedes pulled up to the curb as if timed. The trunk popped open and Matt piled their luggage—one small suitcase each—inside. He ushered her into the car with his hand on her back. Settled next to each other on the supple leather of the backseat, Matt launched into rapid French with his driver, a woman with bouncy blonde curls.