Moonstruck at Midnight, the first of 5 books in the Moonstruck Series, was published independently on May 2021. It was later picked up by a major publisher (Grupo Planeta) and is currently being translated to Spanish. My books are available for purc...
I'M PLEASED TO INTRODUCE to you the other side of Caleb. The one that's overprotective and worries too much. But I knew how to handle him. I was sitting right behind him in the car, and I could see him fidgeting in his seat as he waited for my reply.
Me: Caleb, I'm turning 20 in a few weeks. I'll survive. And I wouldn't mind if you could at least pretend to trust me and give me a bit of breathing space while we're there.
Placing my phone back in my purse was necessary because this conversation could've quickly turned into an argument. I could see myself texting Caleb at the bar all night instead of doing what I was there to do, which was ... stop thinking about him.
We arrived at Hôtel Costes, and a surge of cold air slammed into my face when we stepped out of the car. A driver from the Embassy was waiting to take the keys so Aaron and Caleb could come inside with us.
"The music here is amazing!" Sophie said as we walked toward the entrance. "You're going to love it."
Two giants wearing all black stood behind a red velvet rope, evaluating the people who waited to be selected by them. Everyone seemed decent. I wondered what it took to get inside a place like this.
A couple of girls who looked like models approached the stanchion, and a bouncer let them through without a second thought. It was clear how things worked around this place. Instinctively, I looked down to evaluate myself, double-checking my overall appearance.
"You look great, don't be ridiculous," Cecile whispered, trying to reassure me. "Paul and his friends will be here any minute now. We can wait for them to arrive."
We had been standing there for a minute and a half, and I swear it was the longest ninety seconds I've ever had to endure. It was so awkward. I would've rather left than beg to get in.
A guy started shouting in the back, trying to get the attention of one of the bouncers. They completely ignored him. It was painful to watch.
A third man approached the entrance from the inside and was seemingly evaluating the access situation. He squinted our way. "Aaron? Mon ami! Viens ici!" He cheerfully invited Aaron to approach him.
"Jean-Henri!" Aaron shook his friend's hand firmly. The greeting looked sincere.
Jean-Henri signaled one of the bouncers with a jerk of his chin, and the velvet ropes opened for us. We triumphantly stepped inside while Aaron exchanged a few words with his friend.
A bar employee escorted us afterward to the dimly-lit bar.
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My plan was to get my mind off Caleb by attempting to be a typical young woman having fun in Paris. I wasn't looking to get even. In my mind, I believed I meant nothing to him more than work and a friend—someone he could talk to when he was bored or had some free time on his hands.
I needed to loosen up and have fun for a few hours. I knew my friends could help me with that. And Sophie was right; the music was great. They gave us a small cozy table, yet something told me it was still a prized commodity.
