|Название||Point Us to Paris|
|Автор произведения||Aimee Duffy|
Point Us to Paris
Book Three of Summer Flings
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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014
Copyright © Aimee Duffy 2014
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the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
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For the ninja, super-graphic-girl and queen Catco.
I couldn't have done this without the support of you 'special' ladies.
Paris really was the city of romance and Ciara was reminded of it every stinking second.
‘You’re messing with our karma, Cia,’ Elle said, but despite the words her friend didn’t look annoyed with her. Her eyes were almost as sad as Ciara felt.
‘I’m sorry. No more moping, I promise.’ She sipped at the red wine they’d ordered in a small bar not far from the designer shops both Gem and Elle had dragged her around.
Beneath the table were all her friends’ bags with so many new clothes that they were going to have to pay another excess weight fee at the airport when they left for their next stop.
‘You know the best way to get over a guy is to get under another,’ Gem pointed out. ‘We’re going to the club tonight. Maybe we’ll meet a trio of gorgeous Frenchmen.’
Ciara forced a smile, feigning excitement. Elle’s sharp look told her it was a wasted effort. After a few tears had appeared when they got to Miami International, her friends hadn’t taken her gaze off her since. Pretending to sleep for the whole flight just to get the attention off her hadn’t worked. It just made them more determined to cheer her up.
‘I don’t think that’s what she needs, Gem.’ Elle reached into her purse and pulled out a couple of notes, then left them on the table. ‘But I have an idea.’
‘Oh hell, what now?’ Her mind was too busy churning through the possibilities that she didn’t even moan at Elle for paying the bill.
‘Where are we going?’ Gem asked when Elle picked up her bags.
‘You’ll see. I didn’t waste all that effort getting us into Le Baron for Ciara to wear a face like that all night.’
‘Thanks Elle,’ she murmured dryly. Then something clicked. ‘Wait, isn’t that the private club the Russian mafia lords drink in?’
She’d googled the night life in Paris before her shopping trip in Miami to try and figure out what to buy with her vouchers, and La Baron was one of the clubs she remembered, just not for the right reasons.
Elle laughed. ‘It used to be, but it’s under new management now. Relax.’
‘So why did it take so much effort to get in?’ she asked as they started off down the street.
‘Because it’s private. And exclusive. I want to go. Obviously.’
There really was no stopping her friend when the chin tilt appeared so she sighed and gave in for the moment. It didn’t take Elle long until they got to their destination and Ciara couldn’t stop her chin from dropping. Two windows showcasing sleek, black dresses would have been enough to stop her in her tracks, but above that and the door a black metal balcony with gold letters stunned her.
Elle was taking them to Givenchy, knowing how much Ciara loved the black dress she borrowed from Elle for a spring dance a few years before. But this was just cruel. Taking her to a shop that she couldn’t even afford a scarf in.
‘Come on,’ Elle said, pulling her toward the door.
‘I can’t go in there.’ Ciara tried to wrestle her arm back.
‘You’re going alright. Gem, get her other arm!’