J'Adore: Three Nights In Paris

By A. Octavia

Some people come to Paris for love, others for money.. I remember hearing the music from the pipe organ on the breeze, the final notes of abandon. Reality unraveled around me, but it happened sandwiched in the layers of so many other things raging for my attention that I never noticed. Nothing about me was ever going to be the same. That's the real cost of a new life, though; you had to sacrifice the old one.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. Octavia
• Release date: Dec 15, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463692097

A. Octavia

From an ancient desk in a sunlit corner of a room, A. Octavia writes about worlds hidden behind a veil of time and cosmic dust. He also writes an Erotic Blog, and hosts an Erotic Podcast available on iTunes and Stitcher."The world is too big and full of everything to close your eyes and do nothing." -A. Octavia.

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J’Adore:

Three Nights In Paris.

By A. Octavia

Copyright 2019 A.Octavia

Smashwords Edition

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Jadore: Three Nights In Paris

A.Octavia

I remember hearing the music from the pipe organ on the breeze, the final notes of abandon. Reality unraveled around me, but it happened sandwiched in the layers of so many other things raging for my attention that I never noticed. Nothing about me was ever going to be the same. That's the real cost of a new life, though; you had to sacrifice the old one.

Paris was a pulsing, living animal. Like all its kindred, the moment the summer sun settled under the city line, the city yawned and started to wake up. Living souls pumped through the streets, everyone from world leaders to coffee merchants made the most of every throbbing heartbeat. My flight docked right before lunch, and I could see the congestion surrounding Eiffel park all the way through the approach. The moment I stepped off the plane, everything turned into a blur of handshakes and stages, microphones, and martinis. It wasn't until I was walking off the evening stage and ducked back into a cab towards the Eifel that I felt like I could blink and realize I'd cleared my first hurdle.

My phone vibrated gently in my pocket, three soft pulses that knocked at my mental door. I glanced at the dashboard clock and stared at Gia's text. She sent a pic of her arrival gate, with particular attention to the driver waiting for her holding up a sign with her name on it. 'What, you were expecting a cab?' I text, then glanced up at the sky through the windshield. Sunset was fighting a losing battle; the bright blue to the west was down to a razor-thin line rapidly slipping away to make room for ruby that faded to black. My driver did his best to hold up his half of a polite conversation as we crossed the city. Still, his dispatcher's rapid-fire French outranked his broken English. He drove us through the first checkpoint along Allee Thomy Thierry and let me out near the pedestrian barrier. The airport was closer than the hotel, but I knew the layout better that she did. She didn't have to sit through meeting after meeting where event coordinators bickered over the design of the routes or being bored to death by the committee sessions deadlocked on product placement banners.

I saw her first, though, and suddenly all that wasted time felt worth it. She had her back to me, standing near the security gate, wrapped in a light coat that left everything to my imagination. I took her picture, framed by the tower, half-bathed in shadows. I had one last fleeting moment of doubt; it wasn't too late, not yet. I could have walked away. Then again, we both came all this way… I sent her the pic as a text while I sidled up next to her. She looked down at her phone, and she spun around right into my arms. Her smile was so damn contagious, and it lit up her whole face. I slipped my hand around hers as I presented my access badge to the Gendarmerie Nationale holding the line. The sentry glanced up from my badge and said something short in clipped French. Before I could say anything, Gia squeezed my hand gently, and a silky stream of words filled the space between us. His whole demeanor stiffened instantly, and he handed back the badge with a curt nod before letting us through. I raised an eyebrow at her, but she just smiled even broader as she thanked him. Relax, I just told him I was your interpreter.

You know, that’s not a half-bad idea. I could...

Don’t you dare! I have more than enough titles at the moment, thank you very much.

No amount of planning prepared me for the energy I felt radiating out of her as we started wandering the eerily silent event grounds. The canvas stalls absorbed the blurred sound of the city's breathing. It was a smooth rhythm, an orchestra of cars and buses, tourists, and tradesmen. I could smell her perfume every time the air stirred, threatening me with a gentle lavender breeze.

While we wandered the darkening grassy rows, she told me about her flight, her chaotic workload waiting for her back at her office-- about a thousand little things that filled every inch of her concentration. She poured them out between us, and I let her empty it all into me. I ate up every word; I knew someday I wouldn't get another chance. When we turned the corner, we found ourselves on a darker lane of the grounds where the lights from Champ de Mars couldn't reach.