The Cursed Cross (Cross 2)

16 - Par-ee

Jimmy's weekend in Seattle hadn't gone as planned. Hell, neither had his life. He couldn't keep his hands off Tate. Score one, she left less angry than she had been the last time. Her wrath had yet to come, because there was no way the idiot's business idea held any merit. Jimmy was prepared to sink some serious money, but he would profit in the end. He always did.

The key to success was never to lose sight of the endgame. Some deals took years to reach their potential. If he lost patience and cut bait too soon, he would be the loser. With Tate he wasn't sure what his endgame was. Gaining her love and respect, but did he want everything that went with it?

His trip to see his cousin was the first fun he had had since his evening sail. His disappointment came because his attempt at matchmaking failed. Josh confessed he hadn't even kissed Shaun. The look in Josh's eye told Jimmy his friend had wanted to.

Jimmy sure as hell wanted to kiss Tate. He wanted to do a lot of things with her, but without her trust, he was stuck taking cold showers. If she couldn't trust him enough to exorcize the demons from the night of her birthday, it didn't matter what his endgame was.

Exhausted, he and Josh arrived in Boston after midnight. Jimmy had a late afternoon flight to Paris. He used commercial flights for transatlantic travel. Jimmy's investigators had found a woman who left Bates Financial and was living in Paris. There was an anomaly in the books around the same time she left the company. He could be on a wild goose chase, but he needed to be the hero. Tate knew the truth he denied.

Landing in Paris, he was thankful for his highschool French classes. Stepping outside of the terminal, a smiling man held a sign with his name. He approached him and pointed to the block letters.

"Monsieur Sinclair?"

"Oui." He nodded, and the man took his luggage.

The city was still sleeping early on Monday morning. He had traveled Europe enough to know the best restaurants. With a pang he wished he wasn't alone. If only he could show Tate the city. He imagined the Four Seasons had wonderful cake available from room service, but Jimmy needed breakfast and a shower and not to fantasize about buttercream.

He waited until ten am to find Romy Bouchard. According to her social media, she enjoyed a café in the morning. Jimmy felt disappointed as he approached the sidewalk seating. The blonde wasn't there. She worked in the finance department and her resume was impressive, but that wasn't what attracted Junior.

Jimmy ordered a coffee and enjoyed the autumn sun. He could have sent someone else, but his gut urged him to make the trip himself. After the server placed the coffee in front of him, the young man smiled and greeted someone behind him. An American accent conversing in subpar French caused Jimmy to turn around.

He smiled. "A fellow American." He pointed to the empty seat at his table.

She nodded and sat. "Bonjour. Have we met? You look familiar."

"I'm from Boston. James Sinclair."

Her eyes widened. "Of the Sinclairs? I've read articles about you. You have quite a reputation." She took her time looking at his face and casual dress.

He pretended not to notice as he sipped his strong coffee. He chose jeans and a sweater, because his suit was intimidating.

"Are you on holiday?" Her eyes moved from his Nikes back to his face.

"Just a little layover. My reputation is correct. I'm always working, but I'm nicer than they make me out to be."

"I was thinking about the women they say you've dated."

"I doubt half of them are true. I'm a homebody."

She laughed. "You aren't out drinking in exclusive stuffy bars with your rich friends?"