Good Intent Part 2/?
Title: Good Intent
Rating: PG-13 at the moment. But it will go up to M at some point.
Summary: Jane and Tom Wilson have been married for fifteen years. Miranda and John Carter have been married for twenty years. But neither couple is exactly happy. Both women suspect that their husbands are cheating on them. As a last attempt to save their marriages, they plan a romantic vacation in Paris.
The couples meet in the hotel, run by the seductive Audrey Dupont. Soon both women accuse Audrey of seducing their husbands. But it isn't the men Audrey is after. Will the women be able to withstand the alluring Française or will one of them end up leaving Paris with much more problems than she came with?
A/N: About three months ago on tumblr I did a fake movie meme and there was one that some people wanted see turned into an actual fic. So here is the first part of that story and also my first attempt at writing original fiction. Just let me know if it's horrible and I won't continue.
A/N 2: The original post and summary can be found here
Disclaimer: These characters (even if I based their physical appearance on actors) are mine. So don't use without my permission please.
Previous: Part 1
JANE
“You want to do what?” Tom asked as if she had gone insane. Maybe she had. Jane honestly didn’t know. All she knew was that they had to do this. It was going to be his, no, their last chance, even if Tome didn’t realize it.
“Go to Paris, just you and me. No David, no work, no friends, just us.” ‘No mistress’ she added in her mind. It was an act of desperation, a vacation to a foreign city, far, far away from the States and from everything.
“And what do you want to do there?” He sounded as if it was the most ridiculous idea she’d ever had. As if there wasn’t anything to do in Paris. She’s never been to the capital of France, but it had always been a dream of hers to visit it at least once in her lifetime. It just always seemed so beautiful in pictures and movies.
“Well, what do people do in Paris? Visit the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Sacré Coeur and all that touristy stuff.” She shrugged, knowing that her next words could be interpreted in a very wrong and painful way. “We can reconnect.”
“Reconnect?” Tom slowly repeated the word, his face contorting into an expression that didn’t mean anything good. He hated talking about anything slightly emotional or relationship-wise. He had always tried to avoid those conversations and mostly it had worked. But now Jane was determined to stagger on. They would make this trip.
“Don’t make it sound like it’s something disgusting. Lately, I don’t know, I feel we’ve changed, grown apart a little. I miss the closeness we had. I was hoping that maybe a trip to Paris, you know, la ville de l’amour, might help. And if it doesn’t at least we’ll have seen Paris which is never wrong.” Jane added the last part to make it sound lighter and take away the emotional baggage she bringing with them on this trip. Maybe Tom would fall for it.
He studied her face, trying to determine if this was some kind of trap which, she supposed, it sort of was, but Jane kept her expression just a little innocent with a hint of a challenge. It would make him curious as to what she had up her sleeve, but not suspicious of her supposed plans. His dark eyes kept looking into hers until a small smile appeared on his lips and Jane felt her own lips curl up too. She had won. They were going to Paris.
“So, Paris, huh?” She grinned at his playful tone. He sounded like the crazy college boy she had fallen in love with again. It almost made her forget why she wanted to go on this trip in the first place. Almost.
“Yeah. We have some money saved up that we don’t particularly need at the moment. Crossing the ocean, seeing Paris, it might just be what we need.” They both had steady jobs, money for David’s college has already been put into a separate account, they weren’t planning on moving or redecorating anytime soon. They could afford to spend a little for a trip that might just save their marriage, even if Tom didn’t really realize that.
“No, it’s fine. And you’ve always wanted to go. It’ll be great. But do we need to ‘reconnect’?” Tom asked with a smirk as he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down on the couch on top of him. The motion caught her off guard and Jane sprawled across his lap, arms thrown around his neck. Her breath caught in her throat. They hadn’t done this in weeks, months even. “I think we’re doing pretty good.”
“Mm,” she gave as her only reply, not wanting to open that particular can of worms right now. She preferred it if she could just leave that untouched. Maybe after Paris it would all be okay again. He would leave his mistress. Her trust issues were something she could deal with on her own. It would gradually get better until they were back to their old selves again.
“Well, whatever that was supposed to mean, I think still that we’re doing pretty good.” The glint in his eyes was playful and his smirk was downright suggestive. When he looked at her like that, like he could just push her down on the couch and screw her senseless, it made Jane feel weak in the knees. She felt like the giddy high school girl again.
It simply felt good and right to be this close to him again without it feeling forced and uncomfortable. He ran his large hands over her back, encircling her waist for a brief moment before Tom let them rest on the small of her back where they toyed with the hem of her shirt, his thumbs caressing the strip of bare skin between her shirt and her pants. Jane shivered and pushed herself closer to him, trying to feel as much of him as possible.
As she ran her fingers through his hair and leaned down to capture his lips, the realization hit her that she still loved him and would love him even if he’d ever confess affair, even if they’d end up divorced and she would expected to hate him, Jane knew that she would always love Tom, as the father of her child, as the first boy she loved, as the first man she wanted to marry.
“This trip,” Tom started when he broke the kiss, but still kept his hands just above the swell of her ass. “When are we going to do this?” Jane slid off his lap and reached for her laptop. She missed the feeling of his hands on her body. Starting up the computer she sat down next to Tom against his side and was mildly pleased with herself when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“I already found a flight and a hotel,” she said as she started opening websites. “I know it’s a little short notice, but we can go two weeks from now.”
“Really?” Tom raised an eyebrow. Just tone in his voice told her that she had been caught expecting that he would go along with her Paris plan. She smiled sheepishly as she absentmindedly scrolled through the page of the hotel she had picked out.
“David can stay with my mother. I checked and I can take a week off from work and I know that you have days saved up too.” Her boss hadn’t been too pleased with that she had informed him so late, but he had given her the time off anyway on the promise that she would deal with this one particularly difficult account before she left and that she would try to pick up some creative ideas in Paris, possibly bringing a fresh European look to the advertisement agency.
“You’ve thought this all the way through, haven’t you?” Tom inquired as he took the laptop from her and looked at the flight details and the hotel before he nodded in agreement with her choices and handed the computer back to her.
“You know me. When I set my mind on something.”
“Yeah, yeah. I should have known. I’ll call my boss and see if I can get off for a week.” Tom fished his phone out of his pocket and left the room. Jane watched him go and then turned her attention back to the screen. The hotel was charming, not that big, but it still showed quality and comfort. It was little expensive but Jane figured it was worth it. Situated in the centre of Paris, it was close to subway stations and to most of the touristy sights.
Apparently there was also a terrace on the roof that held a spectacular view of the city, especially at night and according to whoever wrote the website, there was nothing more romantic than sharing a bottle of wine at the roof while watching the Eiffel Tower light up. It just seemed like the perfect choice to Jane. She didn’t care if sounded cliché. To her it sounded beautiful and wonderful and exactly what she wanted.
“Book it.” Tom’s voice broke through her thoughts. He had a grin on his face as he fell down next to her on the couch. “She gave me the time off. You can book the trip.”
“Why don’t you book the flight and I’ll call the hotel,” Jane said, handing him the laptop as she got up and reached for the phone before typing in the number. She watched Tom frowning as he navigated his way through the website to book the plane tickets.
“Hotel Dupont, bonjour,” a melodious French voice said. It sounded absolutely beautiful, Parisian. She sounded like a woman who had smoked her entire life and it had given her voice a hoarse quality that Jane was sure would make whoever was on the other end of the line able to wrap every single man around her finger.
“Uhm, vous parlez Anglais?” Jane asked a little nervously. She didn’t have anything more than her high school French to rely on and she hadn’t used that in years. She really hoped that she was talking to a Frenchwoman who spoke some English, at least enough to make a reservation.
“Yes, of course. Who am I speaking to?” The English was heavily accented, but it was understandable. If possible the French accent made the woman’s voice even sexier. Jane could imagine what the woman looked like. She probably looked like the stereotype Parisian. Stylish, oozing sexuality without it looking overdone.
“Hi, this is Jane Wilson and I’d like to make a reservation.” There was a moment where the woman on the other end of the line appeared to be typing something into her computer before she replied.
“Oui. For which dates?”
“From May fourth until May tenth.”
“And what kind of room would you like?”
“A normal room with a double bed for two persons.”
“You are lucky Madame Wilson. There are only two rooms left. I will put you down for one.” Jane almost sighed in relief. She’d been so afraid it had been completely booked already. She never knew how quickly these things went in Paris. She heard the telltale sound of fingers pushing down the keys on the keyboard and the clicking of the mouse. It was happening. She felt in immense amount of pride in the knowledge that she’d just booked a hotel room in Paris.
“Great. Thank you.” She didn’t care if it was a little silly to be this excited. She was finally going to Paris. The thought filled with so much glee that she forgot why she had wanted to go on this trip in the first place.
“You will have to pay a security deposit when you arrive which will be ten percent of the total amount which you will have to pay when you check out.” It appeared like the woman had said this a thousand times over. But Jane smile nonetheless. It just sounded so charming with a French accent.
“Yes, I saw that at your website.”
“Bon, d’accord. Was there anything else I can help you with? Any questions?”
“No, that was all.”
“Good. Then I will see you May fourth, Mrs. Wilson.”
“Yes, you will, Madame..?”
“Dupont. Audrey Dupont. And it’s Mademoiselle.” The way those words were said, Jane was almost sure that this Audrey Dupont was flirting with her over the phone. But surely a woman with a voice like that already had a string of lovers in various places of the city. She was stereotyping, she knew that, but Mademoiselle Dupont just really had a voice that screamed sexuality.
“Okay, we will meet in two weeks, Mademoiselle Dupont,” she said slowly. The word ‘Mademoiselle’ had always given her trouble when at high school and she didn’t want to look like a fool just at the end of the conversation.
“Looking forward to it. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.” As she put the phone down, Jane seriously wondered if Audrey was just a natural flirt or if she was imagining it which was always possible. The few people that she knew who had gone to France had always told her that the French weren’t afraid of sex or sexuality. It just came natural to them as if they lived and breathed it.
Tom was still sitting on the couch, credit card in hand as he entered some digits and clicked on a few things. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek and Jane smiled. He had done that when he was younger whenever he tried to concentrate and it was a habit that he never got rid of. It was endearing, even in an adult. Tom made one last decisive clicked before he looked up with a triumphant smile.
“Done,” he said and leaned back, dropping his credit card on the table. “We’re going to Paris.”
“And we can sleep there too,” Jane shot back with a grin. She liked that he suddenly seemed to look forward to this rather impromptu trip too. This was going to work out. She moved to sit down beside him when his phone buzzed, signaling a text. And instead of just letting sit on his phone, Ton actually picked up his cell phone and read it. Jane felt her expression turn dark and the elated mood she had been feeling disappeared instantly.
“It’s work. I have to call them back,” Tom said as he dialed the number. Jane felt a little relieved. To her knowledge he had never called whoever he was fucking while she was at home. It had to be work. But just that moment where she thought it could have been his mistress calling, just that thought that had crossed her mind, it put the fear and the doubt back into her head. It would take a long time, if not the rest of her life before she was able to trust her husband again.
Jane sighed as she sat down on the couch and pulled the laptop back onto her lap. The confirmation of their plane tickets was still visible. She saved it before returning to the website of their hotel. There were no pictures at all of the personnel. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she typed in Audrey Dupont in the google search bar. These days, everybody could be found on the internet, whether they wanted it or not.
A few images popped up along with a number of sites that held personal information of the Frenchwoman. Jane looked over her shoulder, making sure that her husband was still out, talking to someone at work, before she clicked on an image. Audrey was not exactly as Jane had imagined her, but she was still incredibly French and as Jane had guessed, she just oozed sexuality. Her hazel eyes and raised eyebrow just dared whoever might pass her on the street to look at her and allow their gaze to linger.
She wasn’t even that young anymore. Jane guessed her late fifties, maybe early sixties, but she was undeniably beautiful. She wondered how a woman with her looks ended up being single and running a hotel in the middle of Paris. She was the type of woman to be some wealthy man’s wife or a successful businesswoman, someone who had fought her way to the top without backing down from a fight.
As she looked into the daring hazel eyes, Jane felt a flicker of fear that started in the pit of her stomach and then slowly started spreading through her body. This was a woman her husband could easily fall for. She could wrap him around her finger before Jane even had a chance to blink. She slammed the laptop shut. She was just being silly now. Tom and she were going to have a wonderful time and Paris and Audrey Dupont wasn’t going to change that.
MIRANDA
Miranda turned away from her computer screen and faced the large window her office had. The sunlight reflected off the building opposite to hers momentarily blinded her. Closing her eyes briefly, she kicked of her high heels. Beautiful as they were, they became uncomfortable after wearing them all day. But Miranda barely realized that her feet hurt as she listened to her husband talking to her on the phone, informing her that he had to go across the ocean, to Paris of all places, for his work.
“It’s not for long. I’ll probably be gone for three days.”
“And why do you have to go to the other side of the world?”
“I can’t really discuss it. My client simply requires me to speak with someone he knows who lives in Paris. And she refuses to fly to the States.” Miranda could hear that he was speaking through clenched teeth, something he always did when he was particularly annoyed with someone. Whoever this woman was, she had already managed to piss John off without ever meeting him.
“I see,” she muttered as a reply. John had done outrageous things for his job before, things he usually told her about after he had done them. He knew that she didn’t always like the way he dealt with certain affairs. She admired his way of finding solutions, but sometimes his manners were on the morally ambiguous side. But she supposed that she had always known that, marrying a lawyer. She sighed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan this. I really did try to convince her to come to New York, but she wouldn’t hear of it.” He sounded honestly regretful. Miranda could hear that he wasn’t looking forward to it. She guessed that it made sense. Who would want to spend hours on a plane just to have a single conversation that probably wouldn’t be easy and then fly back? She felt sorry for him.
“And I suppose this isn’t one of those talks that you can have over the phone?” She suggested. He had probably already thought of that, but it wouldn’t hurt to offer the suggestion anyway.
“No. This is a very delicate conversation and it would not do to have it over the phone and I wouldn’t want it either.” His voice was authoritative. He had made up his mind and he wouldn’t budge on this point, that much was clear to her.
“Okay, then,” she said as she watched a man in the building on the other side of the street scold an employee who did not seem impressed in the least which only seemed to infuriate the man even more. A little amused Miranda watched them. The girl who could not be more than twenty five and appeared to be a secretary showed a certain self-confidence that was rare for someone her age and employment. Miranda smiled to herself. Whoever that girl was, and even if she didn’t know anything about her, she was going to make it. Miranda had and that girl would be able to do it too. Ten years from now, that man would be taking orders from her.
“You’re not disappointed?” John asked. Miranda looked away from the scene across from here and turned away from the window, slipping on her heels in the process.
“No, no. I’m fine. Just a bit surprised.”
“I’m sorry,” John offered sincerely. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “But I was thinking, maybe we could make it a vacation.”
“A vacation?” Miranda repeated the word incredulously. Their usual vacations were either long days spent on a sunny beach doing nothing but enjoying the warm weather, books and each other or they went on more active vacations to South America where they would hike, climb mountains, visit places only few of the civilized western world had had the privilege to see. But they never went to big cities like Paris for a vacation. They usually avoided those. Capitals tended to be crowded, big and loud and their free time was always dedicated to get away from that as much as possible.
“Yeah. I’d have to work the first day, but we could stay there for a week or so. Enjoy the city, have some time to ourselves away from NYC, find some calmness, even if only for a few days.” He sounded hopeful. Miranda sat up at the words ‘have some time to ourselves’. They needed that. They desperately needed that. But before she could think of a reply that would sound excited, her sarcastic side got the better of her.
“You want to find calmness in a city like Paris?” she asked before she could stop herself. Annoyed with herself she ran a hand through her hair, probably only messing it more than making it look better.
“You hate the idea.” John said coldly. Miranda wanted to slap herself. She was fifty five and still she had troubled thinking before she spoke. It had gotten her into trouble a lot of times, more than she cared to remember.
“No, I love it,” she said quickly. And she honestly did. “I haven’t been to Paris in years and I miss it. I would love to go there with you.” She did miss Paris. She hadn’t lived there in almost thirty three years, but she still missed the French capital. It held an atmosphere that no other city had been able to reproduce, something exhilarating and unexplainable that made her heart beat faster.
“You would?” John seemed sincerely startled by her reply.
“I would. I really would love to do that with you.”
“Well, I’m glad. No, not glad. I’m happy. Some time together would do us good and we haven’t had a vacation in what? Two years?”
“Two years would be about right,” Miranda mumbled. She had started working less, but both of them hadn’t taken any days off in about two years. She had barely noticed it, but now that John mentioned it, she realized that it had indeed been a long time since either of them had taken more than two days off.
“So we’re due for one,” John said in a matter of fact voice. Miranda smiled. He had already made up his mind. They were going to do this.
“Yes. But do you think you can time off on such short notice?”
“I already asked. I can get a week off.” Of course he had already checked. John had always been very thorough.
“I’ll have to check.”
“Do you? You practically run the place.”
“Practically, but not in writing. I still have to check.”
“I don’t know why they haven’t made you the CEO yet. How old is Murphy, sixty-six, sixty-seven?” Miranda rolled her eyes. She had heard these words over and over again. She was getting tired of them.
“Sixty-eight. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be the CEO. I like where I am right now.” The CEO barely had any contact with the employees while she spoke and worked with them daily. She just preferred that to being so distanced from everything.
“But - -,” he started, but Miranda cut him off.
“John, please, can we not get into this discussion now?,” she asked with a exasperated sigh. They been over this dozens of times. John really wanted her to get the position of CEO, but Miranda had come to the point that she didn’t want or need a promotion anymore, especially that promotion. “I’ll check if I can go to Paris. Let’s just assume that I can and you can find a hotel for us to stay in.”
“I will. Call me when you know.” John still sounded a little annoyed that she had brushed him off so easily about the CEO position. She knew that he intensely disliked her boss and that since the moment she started working there, he had thought that she should hold the highest position.
“Okay. Bye.”
“I love you.” Miranda felt as if her heart skipped a beat. How long had it been since he had said those words to her? It had have been months, at least. And now, all of a sudden he was telling her he loved her again. For the first time in weeks she felt happy.
“I love you too,” she managed to choke out, hoping that it didn’t sound too pathetic.
“Bye.” There was a click and John had hung up. Miranda stared at her own phone in surprise. Paris. She was going back to Paris. If she managed to get some time off, but she was almost certain she could pull that off. John was right, she basically ran the place already. She could take a week off. They’d be able to deal without her for a little while.
She leaned back in her chair. Paris. She’d lived there for two years when she was in her twenties. She’d been studying and working at that time while enjoying the city and that indescribable freedom that the French seemed to have that Americans lacked or any other country for that matter. Miranda had visited a lot of countries, but the French had a certain quality that was just so utterly French there was simply no other word for it.
Looking back on her time in Paris, even thirty years later, even with her marriage, Paris was definitely when she had the time of her life. She had been so young, so careless, so able to do whatever she wanted, sleep with whoever she wanted and just enjoy herself and live her life. She had been completely unrestricted. Paris had been her playground and she made use of it for two years and then she had moved back to the States and everything that had happened there appeared to have been just a dream.
She’d been back to the city a few times after that over the years, but never for extended stays. However with every return Paris felt, not exactly like home, but it felt familiar. She felt at ease there, surrounded by millions of people, by centuries of history. She loved being there. And now she was going there with John. They’d never done that. She could show him the city the way it should be shown. Not like a tourist but as someone who had once lived there.
John. He had come up with this idea. A trip to the city of love. He probably hadn’t thought about it like that, but still, the thought stayed with her. Had she simply misjudged him when she thought he had been cheating on her? Doubt filled her mind. Or was this his repentance, his idea of making up for the fact that he strayed from his marriage vows?
Frowning she looked at the only picture she had on her desk. A picture of John and her at the beach in California right near her sister’s house taken by her brother in law almost three years ago. They were both smiling, they both looked happy and still so incredibly in love. What had changed from that moment? In the picture John was smiling and he was looking into her eyes as if she was the only woman on the planet. And now when he looked at her, there was nothing special in his eyes anymore.
She shouldn’t be thinking like this, especially at work. It would get her emotional and put her in a foul mood and her employees didn’t deserve that. She let her fingers dance over the titanium frame of the picture, playing with the thought of slamming it down or hiding it away in a drawer so she wouldn’t have to look at the memory of something she didn’t have any more. For the briefest of moments she allowed her fingertips to linger against John’s face in the photograph before deciding to keep it on her desk.
This was the man she loved, the man she was married to. She needed him in her life. Maybe she could see this impromptu trip to Paris as a blessing and use it to find whatever it was that they had lost. She wanted him back. She wanted him to love her again, to touch her again they way he had twenty years ago when they were just married. Now he barely touched at all. A chaste kiss here or there, but they hadn’t made love in months.
Tearing her gaze away from the picture, Miranda turned towards her computer and brought up the work schedule. When she was satisfied that her absence wouldn’t interfere with anybody’s work, she gave herself the time off from May third until May eleventh, the dates that John had supplied. She had always liked Paris in the middle of spring. It was like the city woke up after winter, becoming alive again to enjoy the sun.
She didn’t feel like talking to John, not while she was feeling so confused, so lost. She just texted him that she was free and that she would see him tonight. If she would see him tonight she thought bitterly. She didn’t wait for his reply. Instead she turned back to the window. The young woman she had been watching was standing in front of a window too. Their eyes met. Miranda felt her lips curl up into a smile and before she could stop herself she lifted her hand and waved. The girl grinned and returned the wave. Oh yes, that girl was going to make it.
Rating: PG-13 at the moment. But it will go up to M at some point.
Summary: Jane and Tom Wilson have been married for fifteen years. Miranda and John Carter have been married for twenty years. But neither couple is exactly happy. Both women suspect that their husbands are cheating on them. As a last attempt to save their marriages, they plan a romantic vacation in Paris.
The couples meet in the hotel, run by the seductive Audrey Dupont. Soon both women accuse Audrey of seducing their husbands. But it isn't the men Audrey is after. Will the women be able to withstand the alluring Française or will one of them end up leaving Paris with much more problems than she came with?
A/N: About three months ago on tumblr I did a fake movie meme and there was one that some people wanted see turned into an actual fic. So here is the first part of that story and also my first attempt at writing original fiction. Just let me know if it's horrible and I won't continue.
A/N 2: The original post and summary can be found here
Disclaimer: These characters (even if I based their physical appearance on actors) are mine. So don't use without my permission please.
Previous: Part 1
JANE
“You want to do what?” Tom asked as if she had gone insane. Maybe she had. Jane honestly didn’t know. All she knew was that they had to do this. It was going to be his, no, their last chance, even if Tome didn’t realize it.
“Go to Paris, just you and me. No David, no work, no friends, just us.” ‘No mistress’ she added in her mind. It was an act of desperation, a vacation to a foreign city, far, far away from the States and from everything.
“And what do you want to do there?” He sounded as if it was the most ridiculous idea she’d ever had. As if there wasn’t anything to do in Paris. She’s never been to the capital of France, but it had always been a dream of hers to visit it at least once in her lifetime. It just always seemed so beautiful in pictures and movies.
“Well, what do people do in Paris? Visit the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Sacré Coeur and all that touristy stuff.” She shrugged, knowing that her next words could be interpreted in a very wrong and painful way. “We can reconnect.”
“Reconnect?” Tom slowly repeated the word, his face contorting into an expression that didn’t mean anything good. He hated talking about anything slightly emotional or relationship-wise. He had always tried to avoid those conversations and mostly it had worked. But now Jane was determined to stagger on. They would make this trip.
“Don’t make it sound like it’s something disgusting. Lately, I don’t know, I feel we’ve changed, grown apart a little. I miss the closeness we had. I was hoping that maybe a trip to Paris, you know, la ville de l’amour, might help. And if it doesn’t at least we’ll have seen Paris which is never wrong.” Jane added the last part to make it sound lighter and take away the emotional baggage she bringing with them on this trip. Maybe Tom would fall for it.
He studied her face, trying to determine if this was some kind of trap which, she supposed, it sort of was, but Jane kept her expression just a little innocent with a hint of a challenge. It would make him curious as to what she had up her sleeve, but not suspicious of her supposed plans. His dark eyes kept looking into hers until a small smile appeared on his lips and Jane felt her own lips curl up too. She had won. They were going to Paris.
“So, Paris, huh?” She grinned at his playful tone. He sounded like the crazy college boy she had fallen in love with again. It almost made her forget why she wanted to go on this trip in the first place. Almost.
“Yeah. We have some money saved up that we don’t particularly need at the moment. Crossing the ocean, seeing Paris, it might just be what we need.” They both had steady jobs, money for David’s college has already been put into a separate account, they weren’t planning on moving or redecorating anytime soon. They could afford to spend a little for a trip that might just save their marriage, even if Tom didn’t really realize that.
“No, it’s fine. And you’ve always wanted to go. It’ll be great. But do we need to ‘reconnect’?” Tom asked with a smirk as he reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down on the couch on top of him. The motion caught her off guard and Jane sprawled across his lap, arms thrown around his neck. Her breath caught in her throat. They hadn’t done this in weeks, months even. “I think we’re doing pretty good.”
“Mm,” she gave as her only reply, not wanting to open that particular can of worms right now. She preferred it if she could just leave that untouched. Maybe after Paris it would all be okay again. He would leave his mistress. Her trust issues were something she could deal with on her own. It would gradually get better until they were back to their old selves again.
“Well, whatever that was supposed to mean, I think still that we’re doing pretty good.” The glint in his eyes was playful and his smirk was downright suggestive. When he looked at her like that, like he could just push her down on the couch and screw her senseless, it made Jane feel weak in the knees. She felt like the giddy high school girl again.
It simply felt good and right to be this close to him again without it feeling forced and uncomfortable. He ran his large hands over her back, encircling her waist for a brief moment before Tom let them rest on the small of her back where they toyed with the hem of her shirt, his thumbs caressing the strip of bare skin between her shirt and her pants. Jane shivered and pushed herself closer to him, trying to feel as much of him as possible.
As she ran her fingers through his hair and leaned down to capture his lips, the realization hit her that she still loved him and would love him even if he’d ever confess affair, even if they’d end up divorced and she would expected to hate him, Jane knew that she would always love Tom, as the father of her child, as the first boy she loved, as the first man she wanted to marry.
“This trip,” Tom started when he broke the kiss, but still kept his hands just above the swell of her ass. “When are we going to do this?” Jane slid off his lap and reached for her laptop. She missed the feeling of his hands on her body. Starting up the computer she sat down next to Tom against his side and was mildly pleased with herself when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“I already found a flight and a hotel,” she said as she started opening websites. “I know it’s a little short notice, but we can go two weeks from now.”
“Really?” Tom raised an eyebrow. Just tone in his voice told her that she had been caught expecting that he would go along with her Paris plan. She smiled sheepishly as she absentmindedly scrolled through the page of the hotel she had picked out.
“David can stay with my mother. I checked and I can take a week off from work and I know that you have days saved up too.” Her boss hadn’t been too pleased with that she had informed him so late, but he had given her the time off anyway on the promise that she would deal with this one particularly difficult account before she left and that she would try to pick up some creative ideas in Paris, possibly bringing a fresh European look to the advertisement agency.
“You’ve thought this all the way through, haven’t you?” Tom inquired as he took the laptop from her and looked at the flight details and the hotel before he nodded in agreement with her choices and handed the computer back to her.
“You know me. When I set my mind on something.”
“Yeah, yeah. I should have known. I’ll call my boss and see if I can get off for a week.” Tom fished his phone out of his pocket and left the room. Jane watched him go and then turned her attention back to the screen. The hotel was charming, not that big, but it still showed quality and comfort. It was little expensive but Jane figured it was worth it. Situated in the centre of Paris, it was close to subway stations and to most of the touristy sights.
Apparently there was also a terrace on the roof that held a spectacular view of the city, especially at night and according to whoever wrote the website, there was nothing more romantic than sharing a bottle of wine at the roof while watching the Eiffel Tower light up. It just seemed like the perfect choice to Jane. She didn’t care if sounded cliché. To her it sounded beautiful and wonderful and exactly what she wanted.
“Book it.” Tom’s voice broke through her thoughts. He had a grin on his face as he fell down next to her on the couch. “She gave me the time off. You can book the trip.”
“Why don’t you book the flight and I’ll call the hotel,” Jane said, handing him the laptop as she got up and reached for the phone before typing in the number. She watched Tom frowning as he navigated his way through the website to book the plane tickets.
“Hotel Dupont, bonjour,” a melodious French voice said. It sounded absolutely beautiful, Parisian. She sounded like a woman who had smoked her entire life and it had given her voice a hoarse quality that Jane was sure would make whoever was on the other end of the line able to wrap every single man around her finger.
“Uhm, vous parlez Anglais?” Jane asked a little nervously. She didn’t have anything more than her high school French to rely on and she hadn’t used that in years. She really hoped that she was talking to a Frenchwoman who spoke some English, at least enough to make a reservation.
“Yes, of course. Who am I speaking to?” The English was heavily accented, but it was understandable. If possible the French accent made the woman’s voice even sexier. Jane could imagine what the woman looked like. She probably looked like the stereotype Parisian. Stylish, oozing sexuality without it looking overdone.
“Hi, this is Jane Wilson and I’d like to make a reservation.” There was a moment where the woman on the other end of the line appeared to be typing something into her computer before she replied.
“Oui. For which dates?”
“From May fourth until May tenth.”
“And what kind of room would you like?”
“A normal room with a double bed for two persons.”
“You are lucky Madame Wilson. There are only two rooms left. I will put you down for one.” Jane almost sighed in relief. She’d been so afraid it had been completely booked already. She never knew how quickly these things went in Paris. She heard the telltale sound of fingers pushing down the keys on the keyboard and the clicking of the mouse. It was happening. She felt in immense amount of pride in the knowledge that she’d just booked a hotel room in Paris.
“Great. Thank you.” She didn’t care if it was a little silly to be this excited. She was finally going to Paris. The thought filled with so much glee that she forgot why she had wanted to go on this trip in the first place.
“You will have to pay a security deposit when you arrive which will be ten percent of the total amount which you will have to pay when you check out.” It appeared like the woman had said this a thousand times over. But Jane smile nonetheless. It just sounded so charming with a French accent.
“Yes, I saw that at your website.”
“Bon, d’accord. Was there anything else I can help you with? Any questions?”
“No, that was all.”
“Good. Then I will see you May fourth, Mrs. Wilson.”
“Yes, you will, Madame..?”
“Dupont. Audrey Dupont. And it’s Mademoiselle.” The way those words were said, Jane was almost sure that this Audrey Dupont was flirting with her over the phone. But surely a woman with a voice like that already had a string of lovers in various places of the city. She was stereotyping, she knew that, but Mademoiselle Dupont just really had a voice that screamed sexuality.
“Okay, we will meet in two weeks, Mademoiselle Dupont,” she said slowly. The word ‘Mademoiselle’ had always given her trouble when at high school and she didn’t want to look like a fool just at the end of the conversation.
“Looking forward to it. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye.” As she put the phone down, Jane seriously wondered if Audrey was just a natural flirt or if she was imagining it which was always possible. The few people that she knew who had gone to France had always told her that the French weren’t afraid of sex or sexuality. It just came natural to them as if they lived and breathed it.
Tom was still sitting on the couch, credit card in hand as he entered some digits and clicked on a few things. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek and Jane smiled. He had done that when he was younger whenever he tried to concentrate and it was a habit that he never got rid of. It was endearing, even in an adult. Tom made one last decisive clicked before he looked up with a triumphant smile.
“Done,” he said and leaned back, dropping his credit card on the table. “We’re going to Paris.”
“And we can sleep there too,” Jane shot back with a grin. She liked that he suddenly seemed to look forward to this rather impromptu trip too. This was going to work out. She moved to sit down beside him when his phone buzzed, signaling a text. And instead of just letting sit on his phone, Ton actually picked up his cell phone and read it. Jane felt her expression turn dark and the elated mood she had been feeling disappeared instantly.
“It’s work. I have to call them back,” Tom said as he dialed the number. Jane felt a little relieved. To her knowledge he had never called whoever he was fucking while she was at home. It had to be work. But just that moment where she thought it could have been his mistress calling, just that thought that had crossed her mind, it put the fear and the doubt back into her head. It would take a long time, if not the rest of her life before she was able to trust her husband again.
Jane sighed as she sat down on the couch and pulled the laptop back onto her lap. The confirmation of their plane tickets was still visible. She saved it before returning to the website of their hotel. There were no pictures at all of the personnel. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she typed in Audrey Dupont in the google search bar. These days, everybody could be found on the internet, whether they wanted it or not.
A few images popped up along with a number of sites that held personal information of the Frenchwoman. Jane looked over her shoulder, making sure that her husband was still out, talking to someone at work, before she clicked on an image. Audrey was not exactly as Jane had imagined her, but she was still incredibly French and as Jane had guessed, she just oozed sexuality. Her hazel eyes and raised eyebrow just dared whoever might pass her on the street to look at her and allow their gaze to linger.
She wasn’t even that young anymore. Jane guessed her late fifties, maybe early sixties, but she was undeniably beautiful. She wondered how a woman with her looks ended up being single and running a hotel in the middle of Paris. She was the type of woman to be some wealthy man’s wife or a successful businesswoman, someone who had fought her way to the top without backing down from a fight.
As she looked into the daring hazel eyes, Jane felt a flicker of fear that started in the pit of her stomach and then slowly started spreading through her body. This was a woman her husband could easily fall for. She could wrap him around her finger before Jane even had a chance to blink. She slammed the laptop shut. She was just being silly now. Tom and she were going to have a wonderful time and Paris and Audrey Dupont wasn’t going to change that.
MIRANDA
Miranda turned away from her computer screen and faced the large window her office had. The sunlight reflected off the building opposite to hers momentarily blinded her. Closing her eyes briefly, she kicked of her high heels. Beautiful as they were, they became uncomfortable after wearing them all day. But Miranda barely realized that her feet hurt as she listened to her husband talking to her on the phone, informing her that he had to go across the ocean, to Paris of all places, for his work.
“It’s not for long. I’ll probably be gone for three days.”
“And why do you have to go to the other side of the world?”
“I can’t really discuss it. My client simply requires me to speak with someone he knows who lives in Paris. And she refuses to fly to the States.” Miranda could hear that he was speaking through clenched teeth, something he always did when he was particularly annoyed with someone. Whoever this woman was, she had already managed to piss John off without ever meeting him.
“I see,” she muttered as a reply. John had done outrageous things for his job before, things he usually told her about after he had done them. He knew that she didn’t always like the way he dealt with certain affairs. She admired his way of finding solutions, but sometimes his manners were on the morally ambiguous side. But she supposed that she had always known that, marrying a lawyer. She sighed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan this. I really did try to convince her to come to New York, but she wouldn’t hear of it.” He sounded honestly regretful. Miranda could hear that he wasn’t looking forward to it. She guessed that it made sense. Who would want to spend hours on a plane just to have a single conversation that probably wouldn’t be easy and then fly back? She felt sorry for him.
“And I suppose this isn’t one of those talks that you can have over the phone?” She suggested. He had probably already thought of that, but it wouldn’t hurt to offer the suggestion anyway.
“No. This is a very delicate conversation and it would not do to have it over the phone and I wouldn’t want it either.” His voice was authoritative. He had made up his mind and he wouldn’t budge on this point, that much was clear to her.
“Okay, then,” she said as she watched a man in the building on the other side of the street scold an employee who did not seem impressed in the least which only seemed to infuriate the man even more. A little amused Miranda watched them. The girl who could not be more than twenty five and appeared to be a secretary showed a certain self-confidence that was rare for someone her age and employment. Miranda smiled to herself. Whoever that girl was, and even if she didn’t know anything about her, she was going to make it. Miranda had and that girl would be able to do it too. Ten years from now, that man would be taking orders from her.
“You’re not disappointed?” John asked. Miranda looked away from the scene across from here and turned away from the window, slipping on her heels in the process.
“No, no. I’m fine. Just a bit surprised.”
“I’m sorry,” John offered sincerely. There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “But I was thinking, maybe we could make it a vacation.”
“A vacation?” Miranda repeated the word incredulously. Their usual vacations were either long days spent on a sunny beach doing nothing but enjoying the warm weather, books and each other or they went on more active vacations to South America where they would hike, climb mountains, visit places only few of the civilized western world had had the privilege to see. But they never went to big cities like Paris for a vacation. They usually avoided those. Capitals tended to be crowded, big and loud and their free time was always dedicated to get away from that as much as possible.
“Yeah. I’d have to work the first day, but we could stay there for a week or so. Enjoy the city, have some time to ourselves away from NYC, find some calmness, even if only for a few days.” He sounded hopeful. Miranda sat up at the words ‘have some time to ourselves’. They needed that. They desperately needed that. But before she could think of a reply that would sound excited, her sarcastic side got the better of her.
“You want to find calmness in a city like Paris?” she asked before she could stop herself. Annoyed with herself she ran a hand through her hair, probably only messing it more than making it look better.
“You hate the idea.” John said coldly. Miranda wanted to slap herself. She was fifty five and still she had troubled thinking before she spoke. It had gotten her into trouble a lot of times, more than she cared to remember.
“No, I love it,” she said quickly. And she honestly did. “I haven’t been to Paris in years and I miss it. I would love to go there with you.” She did miss Paris. She hadn’t lived there in almost thirty three years, but she still missed the French capital. It held an atmosphere that no other city had been able to reproduce, something exhilarating and unexplainable that made her heart beat faster.
“You would?” John seemed sincerely startled by her reply.
“I would. I really would love to do that with you.”
“Well, I’m glad. No, not glad. I’m happy. Some time together would do us good and we haven’t had a vacation in what? Two years?”
“Two years would be about right,” Miranda mumbled. She had started working less, but both of them hadn’t taken any days off in about two years. She had barely noticed it, but now that John mentioned it, she realized that it had indeed been a long time since either of them had taken more than two days off.
“So we’re due for one,” John said in a matter of fact voice. Miranda smiled. He had already made up his mind. They were going to do this.
“Yes. But do you think you can time off on such short notice?”
“I already asked. I can get a week off.” Of course he had already checked. John had always been very thorough.
“I’ll have to check.”
“Do you? You practically run the place.”
“Practically, but not in writing. I still have to check.”
“I don’t know why they haven’t made you the CEO yet. How old is Murphy, sixty-six, sixty-seven?” Miranda rolled her eyes. She had heard these words over and over again. She was getting tired of them.
“Sixty-eight. But it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be the CEO. I like where I am right now.” The CEO barely had any contact with the employees while she spoke and worked with them daily. She just preferred that to being so distanced from everything.
“But - -,” he started, but Miranda cut him off.
“John, please, can we not get into this discussion now?,” she asked with a exasperated sigh. They been over this dozens of times. John really wanted her to get the position of CEO, but Miranda had come to the point that she didn’t want or need a promotion anymore, especially that promotion. “I’ll check if I can go to Paris. Let’s just assume that I can and you can find a hotel for us to stay in.”
“I will. Call me when you know.” John still sounded a little annoyed that she had brushed him off so easily about the CEO position. She knew that he intensely disliked her boss and that since the moment she started working there, he had thought that she should hold the highest position.
“Okay. Bye.”
“I love you.” Miranda felt as if her heart skipped a beat. How long had it been since he had said those words to her? It had have been months, at least. And now, all of a sudden he was telling her he loved her again. For the first time in weeks she felt happy.
“I love you too,” she managed to choke out, hoping that it didn’t sound too pathetic.
“Bye.” There was a click and John had hung up. Miranda stared at her own phone in surprise. Paris. She was going back to Paris. If she managed to get some time off, but she was almost certain she could pull that off. John was right, she basically ran the place already. She could take a week off. They’d be able to deal without her for a little while.
She leaned back in her chair. Paris. She’d lived there for two years when she was in her twenties. She’d been studying and working at that time while enjoying the city and that indescribable freedom that the French seemed to have that Americans lacked or any other country for that matter. Miranda had visited a lot of countries, but the French had a certain quality that was just so utterly French there was simply no other word for it.
Looking back on her time in Paris, even thirty years later, even with her marriage, Paris was definitely when she had the time of her life. She had been so young, so careless, so able to do whatever she wanted, sleep with whoever she wanted and just enjoy herself and live her life. She had been completely unrestricted. Paris had been her playground and she made use of it for two years and then she had moved back to the States and everything that had happened there appeared to have been just a dream.
She’d been back to the city a few times after that over the years, but never for extended stays. However with every return Paris felt, not exactly like home, but it felt familiar. She felt at ease there, surrounded by millions of people, by centuries of history. She loved being there. And now she was going there with John. They’d never done that. She could show him the city the way it should be shown. Not like a tourist but as someone who had once lived there.
John. He had come up with this idea. A trip to the city of love. He probably hadn’t thought about it like that, but still, the thought stayed with her. Had she simply misjudged him when she thought he had been cheating on her? Doubt filled her mind. Or was this his repentance, his idea of making up for the fact that he strayed from his marriage vows?
Frowning she looked at the only picture she had on her desk. A picture of John and her at the beach in California right near her sister’s house taken by her brother in law almost three years ago. They were both smiling, they both looked happy and still so incredibly in love. What had changed from that moment? In the picture John was smiling and he was looking into her eyes as if she was the only woman on the planet. And now when he looked at her, there was nothing special in his eyes anymore.
She shouldn’t be thinking like this, especially at work. It would get her emotional and put her in a foul mood and her employees didn’t deserve that. She let her fingers dance over the titanium frame of the picture, playing with the thought of slamming it down or hiding it away in a drawer so she wouldn’t have to look at the memory of something she didn’t have any more. For the briefest of moments she allowed her fingertips to linger against John’s face in the photograph before deciding to keep it on her desk.
This was the man she loved, the man she was married to. She needed him in her life. Maybe she could see this impromptu trip to Paris as a blessing and use it to find whatever it was that they had lost. She wanted him back. She wanted him to love her again, to touch her again they way he had twenty years ago when they were just married. Now he barely touched at all. A chaste kiss here or there, but they hadn’t made love in months.
Tearing her gaze away from the picture, Miranda turned towards her computer and brought up the work schedule. When she was satisfied that her absence wouldn’t interfere with anybody’s work, she gave herself the time off from May third until May eleventh, the dates that John had supplied. She had always liked Paris in the middle of spring. It was like the city woke up after winter, becoming alive again to enjoy the sun.
She didn’t feel like talking to John, not while she was feeling so confused, so lost. She just texted him that she was free and that she would see him tonight. If she would see him tonight she thought bitterly. She didn’t wait for his reply. Instead she turned back to the window. The young woman she had been watching was standing in front of a window too. Their eyes met. Miranda felt her lips curl up into a smile and before she could stop herself she lifted her hand and waved. The girl grinned and returned the wave. Oh yes, that girl was going to make it.