“These are my friends, Ethan and Hannah,” I smile as I hold out one arm, gesturing toward them. “It’s their first time in Paris and I was hoping to give them the best dining experience the city has to offer.”
There’s one thing to know about the French when it comes to food or fashion. They love a good compliment.
“Ah, Oui, Oui!” He snaps his fingers, getting the attention of the hostess who immediately steps to his side. He quickly whispers something in her ear.
The moment he turns his attention back toward us, she turns on her heel, snaps her fingers at two others, then rounds the corner out of sight.
That was a whole lot of snapping that just happened.
“Hannah, Ethan. Welcome.” Holding out his arms again, heleans in kissing Hannah's cheeks, then steps to the side doing the same to Ethan. Hannah is all smiles while Ethan remains skeptical. But most Americans aren’t quite prepared for the affection granted by strangers in France.
“I owe this man everything,” Hugo tells them as he points to me.
They glance at each other then back to me and I shake my head as I wave my hand. I was hoping he wouldn’t share our story. He’s grateful and I’m happy about that but I don’t deserve any credit.
I met Hugo a few years ago at one of the hostels I stayed at. He was down on his luck, homeless, and only able to afford a bed to stay in once or twice a week. I could tell he was kind and had a passion that you don’t see often. So, I introduced him to my friend who was the manager here at the time. When he got a job as a host, I paid for him to stay in that hostel for three months. Enough time for him to save while he worked there so he could get a place of his own.
“I simply introduced you to the right person at the right time, you put in all the work to get where you are now, Hugo.”
“You believed in me when no one else did. I am forever grateful for you, my friend. Forever grateful,” he says, as he places his hand on my shoulder with a thankful smile.
“Let’s get you and your friends fed, yes?” The hostess comes back and waves us in her direction. Hannah and Ethan follow first and I stay a few steps behind with Hugo.
“No mention of who I am and they pay nothing,” I lean in telling Hugo. He knows my background, we’ve become friends over the years and I’m not frugal when spending my money on food or experiences. He realized this over time, Googled me, then brought it up. Which is why I never tell people my last name. I’ve been burned and taken advantage of far too many times. Hugo is the exception.
He’s never asked me for anything or told anyone that we’vemet about my background and I’ve always appreciated his loyalty and discretion.
He looks at me skeptically as he takes in what I just asked him. He’s used to seeing me a bit more carefree and not so rigid but Ethan and Hannah bring out something in me that makes me want to be better, more responsible and more accountable to myself and others.
“Have you fallen in love in Paris, my old friend?” he asks with ease.
I snap my eyes up to his. I run my hands through my hair as if there’s a neon sign hanging from my head that I need to remove.
“No. God, no. Nothing like that,” I respond quickly, as if I need to convince both him and myself.
I’m just infatuated. Obsessively infatuated.
Nothing more than that.
There’s a slight tick in his brow as the corner of his mouth lifts up.
“Ah, okay. I understand,” he says cryptically as a big-ass smile creeps up on his face.
I squint, giving him an incredulous look.
Yeahhhhh, I don’t think he does.
And the French are hopeless romantics so I’m highly skeptical of his tone.
Before I can say anything more, he takes two large strides forward catching up to them and pulls out Hannah’s chair. She smiles and sits as he places the napkin over her lap. Two of the other servers pull out our chairs as we sit down at the table that has the best view of Paris.
It’s a four-person square table. Ethan and I are on either side of Hannah and her unobstructed view is directly out the window of the tallest level on the tower.
“Bon Appétit,” they all say in unison as they hand us menus and retreat.
Wow,Hannah mouths and Ethan remains quiet but his face says the same thing.
“What do you eat when you come here?” Ethan asks, as his eyes peruse the menu, unsure of where to begin.
