A Perfect Paris Christmas - Mandy Baggot Page 0,32

than pleased that none of this was going to end for them soon.

‘Monsieur Bouchard…’ Noel started.

‘Noel,’ Ethan countered quickly, lowering his voice slightly as guests approached the reception desk to be greeted by Monique and Annika. ‘I need your help. Louis Durand is at the Tour Eiffel hotel. We need to make there the priority today. Now.’ He took a decisive breath. ‘Deal with the tree, then call the company about the ice rink.’

‘Monsieur Bouchard, this is—’ Noel began, the bead of sweat now on the very tip of his nose and threatening to drip down onto his tie.

‘Possible,’ Ethan interrupted, pointing a finger and keeping a smile on his lips. ‘Only tell me it is possible.’ He let his sentence hang in the air and then he rushed towards the door knowing exactly where he was going next.

Thirteen

The Eiffel Tower, Paris

It was breath-taking. Absolutely breath-taking. Keeley held onto the railings, her gloved fingers clinging tight as a very keen wind whipped around her ears and tried to sneak under the knitted hat she hoped wouldn’t be covered in hair dye when she took it off again. She hadn’t imagined coming to the famous tower on the very first day they arrived in Paris, but Rach had insisted they had to. And, after a glass-walled lift ride, they had arrived at the uppermost section, choosing to brave the elements for the outside vistas. And what a view it was! Stretching out before them was Paris in all its glory. The cream-coloured buildings in contrast to the oblongs of green set around the grey roads, traffic like tiny insects but still visible even from this height. Then there was the river. The Seine and its bridges delicately winding its way through the city like a slick silvery ribbon. It was incredible to think that they were actually here. It felt like a world away from Kensington.

‘This is so much better than sizing up Victorian terraces, right?’ Rach said with a contented sigh of approval at what they were seeing.

‘It’s better than everything,’ Keeley replied wistfully.

‘You can’t say that,’ Rach replied, looking away from the view and towards her friend. ‘You haven’t seen “everything” yet.’ Rach sighed again. ‘Tunisia is cool. I rode a camel into the Sahara dressed as a Sheik and ate bread straight out of a hole in the earth.’ She sniffed. ‘Ryan was a bit nonplussed about the bread thing. I think that was when I realised we weren’t going to be a long-term match.’ She sighed. ‘Still, as discussed, it’s better to know than to not know, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ Keeley answered. Except there hadn’t really been a man on her scene since well before she got her new kidney. And even then there hadn’t been any dates that had lasted past the first few – her choice. She had always preferred to be head down in work-related activities or spending time at the weekends with Rach and Bea. The expos or, in the summer, music festivals where Bea was always the first to complete putting up the tent. It was Keeley’s thought that if someone was her Mr Right then it would happen just like that, bam! A string quartet would play and fireworks would crackle and fizz. Or, at least, work would automatically start to slip a little down the list to make room for him. But, as yet, it hadn’t happened. And, of course, everyone she met now was greeted with a transplant story before they’d drunk the first drink. She had promised Rach not to do that here though. Except until they had met any men she didn’t have the chance to try that out. Although, there had been Sebastian, their driver, and then the guy who had saved them in the revolving door and Antoine, the receptionist. And absolutely no ‘I’m a two litre of water a day, limited caffeine kind of a girl’ faux pas had occurred.

‘It’s two-thirty,’ Rach informed, checking her watch.

‘Is it?’ Keeley answered. She shivered. They had thirty minutes until they met Silvie for afternoon tea. Another involuntary shudder rocked her and she pretended to herself it was the bite of the breeze.

‘How are you feeling about it?’ Rach asked.

‘Terrified,’ Keeley admitted. ‘I feel like… I don’t know… like I don’t want to be a disappointment to her.’

‘What?’ Rach laughed.

‘It’s not funny,’ Keeley said, a smile reaching her lips. ‘I feel more responsible for the upkeep of this body part than I did before when it was just my