Chapter One
Spring 1992
I
It was spring of 1992, my plane touched down at Paris Metropolitan Departures and Arrivals Airport or known as PAR. I had been to France before and a few other countries such as Italy and Spain but it was always the same routine. Seek out a few hotels, sightsee a few areas and report on how great they are. It usually only took about two weeks to finish one assignment. I remembered getting this job, thinking that it would help with my boredom and it did but only for a while.
After being checked off through customs and set to go, I decided to immediately check into Villa Mortparnasse. It was the hotel that V&L booked for me for the couple of weeks I was to stay in Paris. This was the first time that I stayed in a hotel in Paris. Yes, I had traveled to France a couple times but only to other cities such as Bourdeax and Aix les Bains. Funny thing was, I didn’t speak a word of French. I only knew words such as croissant, soufflé, café and fiancée—my vocabulary wasn’t all that good, maybe that would be a new goal for me, to learn French.
I walked up to the receptionist’s desk. His name was Favereau, a lean middle-aged Frenchmen with a slender face and dark eyes.
“Good evening.” I said.
He took a quick glance at me and said in English with a thick French accent, “What’s your name Mademoiselle? Which room?”
I opened my mouth but suddenly the sound of a piano captured my attention. I hurriedly looked around the lobby and to the right of the spacious room, there was something spectacular. A certain figure captured my eyes. Yes, the lobby was decorated with beautiful burgundy embroidery on the walls with beautiful beige paint and it was fully furnished with glossy wood furniture; but it wasn’t those things that made the room beautiful, rather the person within it who was stroking the keys of a chestnut colored piano with unique white trimming.
A petite figure was gracefully floating her fingers across the keys. My russet eyes are captivated by long flowing brunette hair that was tied up, showing a slender and sleek tan neck. She dressed in a classy manner; her burgundy dress flowed freely, tightening only around the parts that showed her curves. It left her back mostly revealed in which showed her shoulder blades move back and forth as her arms carried themselves from right to left on the piano. The beautiful woman slightly turned her head and her deep auburn eyes locked with mine. I choked for air.
“Mademoiselle?”
A feeling kept me from looking away from her…it was like those pair of eyes put a leash on me.
“Mademoiselle, are you alright?”
I leisurely turned my attention around to Favereau.
“Who is that woman playing the piano?” I asked hastily. He looked at me strangely and said. “Her name is Belrose. She often comes here to play the piano and sing.”
“Does she stay here at the Villa?” I spoke maybe too eagerly. I was surprised at my sudden curiosity. His eyes still looked at me oddly and he said slowly. “That’s unusual that you don’t recognize the beautiful Belrose. You’re not from around here, are you?”
I nodded. “I’m from America. This is my first time in Paris, but my third trip to France.”
“Aw that explains your reaction.” He then gestured his hand towards Belrose and said. “She often comes here to only play, but she lives elsewhere.”
A soft sigh escaped from my lips. I finally told him my name and room number that was on the hotel reservation.
When he handed me my room key, I turned around.
YOU ARE READING
Belrose of Paris
Roman d'amour"The magazine agency I worked for, Voyage & Leisure gave me a work assignment that took me on an experience I never would had expected. I was to travel to France and explore Paris’ best hotels and report on the best places to see in the City of Ligh...
