P.S. from Paris(14)

“I think you drank too much wine tonight.”

As he closed the screen, he accidentally clicked the “Confirm Registration” button.

“He’d never forgive you, even for just messing around with something like this.”

“Me? You’d better start thinking of your own apologies—and fast—’cause I think you just hit the wrong button, sweetheart . . .”

Arthur hurriedly reopened the laptop, mortified at his blunder.

“Relax! We’re the only ones who have access to his account, and even you admit his life needs a bit of a shake-up.”

“I’m telling you—this is a hell of a risk,” Arthur replied.

“And what about the risks he took for us? Remember that?” she said, turning off the light.

Arthur lay in the dark with his eyes open for a long while. Hundreds of memories came flooding back to him—mad escapades and dirty tricks. Paul had even risked jail for him. Arthur owed his present happiness to his friend’s courage.

Paris reminded him of sad times, years of great solitude. Now Paul was going through something similar, and Arthur knew how heavy it could be to bear that weight. But there had to be better ways of helping him than a dating site.

“Go to sleep,” Lauren whispered to him. “We’ll see if anything interesting happens.”

Arthur snuggled against his wife and shut his eyes.



Mia tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep, the joyless events of the last few weeks going around and around in her head. Today had been by far the happiest day she could think of in a long time, even if she still missed David.

She got dressed and crept out of the apartment.

Outside, the dark streets were wet with drizzle. She walked up the hill until she reached Place du Tertre. The caricaturist was putting away his easel. He looked up as she sat down on a bench.

“Tough night?” he asked, coming to sit next to her.

“Insomnia,” she said.

“I know the feeling. I can never fall asleep before two in the morning.”

“What about your wife? Does she wait up for you every night?”

“Whatever time of day, all I can do is hope she’s waiting,” he replied in his gravelly voice.

“What does that mean?”

“Did you give your friend the portrait?”

“I haven’t had a chance yet. I’ll give it to her tomorrow.”

“Can I ask you a favor? Don’t tell her it’s from me. I like eating lunch at her place, and I don’t know—somehow I’d feel embarrassed if she knew.”

“Why?”

“Well, it’s a bit intrusive to draw someone’s portrait without asking.”

“And yet you did it anyway.”

“I enjoy watching her pass my easel . . . so I wanted to capture the woman who puts a smile on my face every morning without fail.”

“Could I put my head on your shoulder? Without complicating things?”

“Sure. My shoulder never complicates things.”

Together, they gazed in silence at the thinly veiled moon that shone in the sky over Paris.

At two a.m., the caricaturist cleared his throat.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” said Mia.

“Neither was I.”

Mia stood up.

“Perhaps it’s time to say good-bye,” she suggested.

“Good night, then,” the caricaturist said as he got to his feet.

They left Place du Tertre and went their separate ways.





5


Daisy liked to walk through the quiet streets just as the sun came bursting over the horizon. The concrete smelled of cool morning. She stopped at Place du Tertre, stared at an empty bench, and shook her head before continuing on her way.



Mia woke up one hour later. She made herself a cup of tea and sat down opposite the bay window.

She lifted the cup to her lips, then caught sight of her friend’s computer and crossed over to the desk.

First sip. She checked her inbox, skimming through everything that reminded her of professional obligations.

Second sip. Not finding what she’d hoped for, she closed the laptop.

Third sip. She turned to look down at the street below and thought of her moonlit jaunt the night before.

Fourth sip. She opened the laptop again and went straight to the dating website.

Fifth sip. Mia carefully read the instructions for creating a profile.

Sixth sip. She put down her cup and got to work.

CREATING A PROFILE

Are you looking for a relationship? Definitely, No Way, Let’s See What Happens.

Let’s see.

Your marital status: Never Married, Separated, Divorced, Widowed, Married.

Separated.

Do you have children?

No.

Your personality: Considerate, Adventurous, Calm, Easygoing, Funny, Demanding, Proud, Generous, Reserved, Sensitive, Outgoing, Spontaneous, Shy, Reliable, Other.

All of the above.

Please make a single selection.

Easygoing.

Your eye color.

Right. I’d be perfect for you, if only my eyes were a different color.

Does “blind” count as a color?

Your physique: Normal, Athletic, Skinny, A Few Pounds Overweight, Plus-Size, Stocky.