Love and the White Wolf - Book 3

9. Encounters in Paris

Room service knocked on the door at 9 am.  We were both still in bed but James motioned for me to stay there.  He put on the hotel robe and opened the door for the waiter.   His eyes flickered to me, obviously nude, under the covers but he said nothing.  James asked him a question in perfect French which seemed to surprise the man.  He made a comment, which James smiled at and responded to.  I caught the words "ma femme" which even I knew meant "my wife."  The waiter said something else which James also smiled at then the waiter gave him the bill.  He signed it, the waiter smiled at me and left. 

He brought the tray over to the bed and placed it between us.  French pastries, a large omelette, yogurt, and fresh fruit were revealed and we fed each other.

"Are you going to tell me what that little exchange was about?"  I asked.

"I noticed him glancing at you when he came in and asked if it was normal to ogle a woman in another man's bed.  He said a beautiful mistress should always be appreciated.  I told him you were my wife and he said with a wife like that a mistress would never be needed.  I agreed."

He popped a piece of omelette in my mouth.  After eating, showering, and dressing we hailed a taxi and ended up at a very exclusive clothing store on the Champs-Élysées.  He said something to the concierge and a very elegant woman came out. 

"Monsieur et Madame Barnes, a pleasure.  Please follow me, we have an assortment of ensembles for you to choose from.  I'm sure you will be satisfied."

There was a large dressing area with two racks of clothing in the middle.  One rack contained women's dresses and the other contained men's suits.  There was a young woman there who was introduced as our dresser.  She would help with zippers, accessories and anything else we needed.  James sat in the chair and told me to go ahead.  I picked out several different dresses and with the dresser's assistance came out in the first one.  James said no to it and the next two.  Then I tried on a dress in an eggplant colour and James came forward with a smile. 

"I like this," he said. "Do you like it?  I think it's the one but you can try on another if you want."

"I actually do like it," I replied. "I never thought of trying this colour before but it really compliments my colouring."

Then it was James turn.  He tried on a black suit but it was too severe.  He passed over the light grey ones as he already had one that he liked.  There was a dark grey suit that I suggested.  The dresser came up with a patterned tie that had the same base colours as my dress but suggested staying with the white shirt.  James came out looking like a very successful entrepreneur.  The dresser commented that he looked very self assured and masculine.  James replied in French to her.

"No, no, Monsieur, I was sincere," she replied. "You are very handsome but you carry yourself with the attitude that your looks don't matter.  Your masculinity is evident by the way you walk and talk.  I envy you Mme. Barnes, your husband is a real man.  Forgive my frankness, please."

We settled on the dark grey suit.  It needed some alterations so we waited while they marked the garment.  James paid for them and requested they be delivered to the hotel the next day.  We walked along that famous avenue and ended up at the Arc de Triomphe.  I wanted to go up but James suggested we return before sunset instead.  He looked at his watch and announced he had a courtesy call to make but he had to do it alone.

"I'm going to hail you a taxi," he said. "Have the driver take you to this address and I will meet you there as soon as I can.  It's ok, it's a security consultant thing, just making myself known."

He gave me a business card, a handful of Euros, kissed me and sent me off in the taxi.  The driver drove past our hotel and dropped me off at a bookstore near Notre Dame Cathedral called Shakespeare and Company.  There were a few people waiting in line to get into it so I joined the queue.  Just before I would have entered James pulled up in a taxi.  He joined me in line and we were allowed in.  It was a very interesting store but James wasn't there to browse.  He went straight to a clerk and told them he had an order on hold.  They took us to another desk, asked his name and pulled out a paper bag.  Inside was an old book.  They opened it and James grinned.  It had been signed by Tolkien himself.  He paid for it and they wrapped it reverently before placing it back inside the paper bag.