#Chapter3

PARIS: THE FIRST MEET-01

[FIVE YEARS AGO]

VINCE

I was eager to get out of the office doors, the white walls and the cream marble floors stinging my eyes. So, when my childhood friend offered to take me up for some drinks, I couldn’t say no.

"Man, you have no fucking idea what you’ve just saved me from," I said as we walked past the massive line outside the club.

"Humour me." Cole ran a hand through his coffee-coloured hair. "On second thoughts, please don't. Your job is the very reason why I ran from home."

"Not everyone's as lucky as you. I had no option," I huffed.

Cole shook his head, raising a brow at me. "That's where you're wrong, bro. You did have a choice. It's your fault you didn't take it. You were too busy mending what you’re mother had broken off."

I knew damn well that Cole was right. There's always an option. But if someone was as practical as me they'd know, no matter which option one chooses, someone gets hurt.

The streets of Paris had something about them that I couldn’t understand. I wanted to know why this place was called the city of love, not that I believed in such nonsense. It was to feed my curious mind, I believed.

Exchanging some small talks with the bouncer, we both walked in. The club was cosy with a small dance floor on one side and a sitting area on the other. The lights were dim but even through it, I could make up almost every face in the room.

"You seem to know these people quite well," I yelled, trying to reach over the sound of the loud music.

Cole smiled at the bartenders and nodded. "This is where I landed my first job. I had low cash on me. No bungalow to crash in. Turns out the school we studied in had rich idiots like me, minus the brain and self-esteem."

"Really? I asked you to stay at my place."

"And I said no because your uncle knows my dad"—I pushed my palms out in defeat and Cole smiled—"besides, this place needed bartenders and came with a package of free food and stay."

"Things were tough, I assume."

"I underestimated the pressure." Cole began laughing, watching me give my favourite I-warned-you nod. "Yes, you get the satisfaction of saying I told you so."

Cole pointed at the sitting area and I followed him, looking around. Plopping down on the round couch, I exhaled a heavy sigh. The dance floor was full of drunkards dancing their butts off. Many women sitting at the bar were staring at us...something that wasn't new to either of us.

"Just like college, isn't it?" He laughed. "No wonder we had big egos."

“And big dicks to add to that.” My attention trailed off as my eyes paused at the blonde by the bar.

She was sitting with her friend, laughing and ran a hand through her curved short hair that fell on her shoulders. Her red body-con dress hugged her body in all the right places. Something about her was luring me toward her. Maybe it was the way she was laughing or perhaps, the way she was ignoring all the advancements and lusty stares toward her.

"Bonjour!"

A shrill voice said, making us look. Standing before us were two brunettes. The taller one wore a tight mini dress, tight especially around her bust while the other was in a knee-length dress and seemed a little shy.

"Voulez-vous prendre un verre avec nous?"

(Would you like to have a drink with us?)

I glanced at Cole who nodded back with pleading eyes. Turning back to the girls, he said, "Pourquoi pas? Asseyez-vous."

(Why not? Have a seat.)

"Êtes-vous américain?" the taller one asked.

(Are you American?)

They looked barely over twenty, which if I hadn't used fake IDs myself, I wouldn't have guessed. But they surely weren't old enough.

"Non, je suis américain. Mon ami est britannique," Cole said.

(No. I'm American. My friend is British.)

Cole leaned toward me and murmured, “Do you think they have a kink? Like for American men or something?”

“Have you watched Hostel?”

Cole's mouth pressed into a fine line and he gave me a judgemental glare before turning back to the girls.

"Attendez. Quel âge avez-vous les filles?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at them to which Cole stomped on my boot. I shrieked, "What the fuck was that for?"

(Wait. How old are you girls?)

"For being an arse!" Cole whisper shouted while the girls stared at me, uncomfortably. "Look man, I haven't slept with anyone in months. Don't ruin that chance for me."

I rolled my eyes. "Can't you see? These are kids and I don’t do kids."

"Nous avons vingt," The same girl added, smiling. At this point I was sure the other girl wasn’t just shy, she was bloody mute. “I’m Jessica.”

(We are twenty.)

"Cole," Cole quickly added, shaking his hand with her.

“I’m Sonia,” the other girl finally said, staring at me from top to bottom as if she was planning something sinistrous. Not so shy after all. This was how the girls—the ones I usually kicked out of my house after a one-night stand—looked at me.

"Whatever." I stood up, shaking my head. “I'm out of here.”

"Why?" Cole asked, his blue eyes filling with doubt. "Fine, go! At least don't go back to your hotel. I might take one of these fine ladies there...or maybe two."

“Why my hotel?”

“Bigger space, Vi, bigger space. My living accommodations aren’t as luxurious as they used to be,” Cole cooed and I mentally groaned before walking toward the bar.

I had no intention of staying anymore yet I couldn’t stop from nearing her, the blonde who’d had all my attention since the moment I stepped into this club. My preference for blondes was known between my friend circle and I couldn’t even deny it.

I stood behind her and watched. She was sipping the drink in her hand with her friend nowhere in sight. But she seemed to enjoy herself either way.

I knew this was the perfect opportunity to introduce myself to her.

***