“So you like Paris,” he says thoughtfully, his hands deep in his pockets.
“Oh, I love it,” I begin. We have to cross the street to head back home, so we pause at a stoplight. We begin crossing when the light turns green, but halfway across, the sound of an approaching car coming way too fast freezes me in place. I look up to see a small car heading our way, veering back and forth onthe road as if the driver’s had one too many drinks. I stand stock-still, frozen in place, unable to move. They’re not going to stop.
Fabien grabs my arm and yanks me back to the curb. I stumble and fall against him, but quickly right myself. My heartbeat hammers.
“Mon Dieu!” he curses. He grabs both of my arms and holds me in front of him before he looks me over. I stare, baffled at his sudden grip on me. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” I say, though my voice sounds high and reedy. “If I believed in bad luck, I’d say I was cursed today.”
His scowl deepens. “I wish I’d gotten the license plate.”
“I—I saw it,” I say in a rush of words. “I have a good memory for detail.”
As soon as I tell him this, I wish I hadn’t. What will he do in retaliation?
“Text it to me. I want you to have my number anyway.” He rattles off his phone number.
I take out my phone and text him the plate, feeling strangely like I just signed someone’s death warrant.
That’s ridiculous,I tell myself.That’s not how this works.
I’m overthinking things. I have no way to prove he actually hurt the man that attacked me earlier. The girls have said he’s dangerous, but—I can’t let my imagination get the best of me.
My phone buzzes with a response from him.
Thank you—save this number.
This all almost feels like a strange dream. I’m going to wake up in my bed and laugh about this. And yet…
I save his number and stick my phone back in my pocket.
“I don’t want you alone tonight.”
I blink. I open my mouth to tell him I hardly know him and can’t stay with him, when he continues.
“I’ll put a guard on you,” he mutters as we resume our walk. “Are you afraid because of what happened earlier?”
I turn away so he doesn’t see the sudden flush of my cheeks.
I would be a liar if I said I wasn’t. I’ve already been wondering if I could crash on Gwen’s couch. Most of the other girls don’t have residences here. I don’t know how to tell him that, though.
“Of course you’re scared,” he says when I don’t respond right away. “I’ll station a guard.” I decide right then I’m not going to reject whatever safety measures he puts into place. Guards outside my door, a surveillance team, whatever. I don’t like the idea of going back into my room tonight after what happened.
“That’s very kind of you, but maybe we can have guards by Gwen’s door or something. I have to admit, I’m not too crazy about the idea of sleeping in my room tonight. I just need a little time.”
It’s strange how pedestrians cross the streets when they see us coming their way. I imagine a few people speak in hushed voices but stop when we draw near.
When we reach La Maison,it doesn’t surprise me that he opens the door for me to go in ahead of him. There’s something abouthim that’s almost aristocratic and distinguished, even though I saw him bodily throw a man a few hours ago.
How has a gentleman like him earned his reputation?
I make it my mission to find out.
“I’ll wait while you get in touch with Gwen,” he says, when we enter the lobby. The lights are dimmed, the floors recently cleaned and glistening after the evening cleaning crew’s done their work. I pull out my phone and text Gwen as Fabien sends a message on his phone as well. I’m grateful he’s giving me this small measure of privacy.
Me:
Gwen. Are you awake?
