It's 2006 and Beyonce just released her newest album "B'Day." She's on the covers of Vogue, adding more Grammy's to her collection and soon becoming the next best thing. In the middle of her popularity, she travels back home to Louisiana for her mot...
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8 AMIN PARIS, BEYONCE RAN INTO THE Presidential suite, throwing her heels somewhere. She looked around in awe, her eyes growing wider by the second. Micheal had booked the most expensive suite in one of the most luxurious hotel chains: The Ritz Carlton. The Suite was decorated with Louis XVI furniture, and original art, and had the best Eiffel tour view.
"Baby, come look at the view!" Beyonce said, looking out the windows. Micheal and a couple of hotel workers entered later with the luggage. After they secured the suitcases on the floor, he tipped the workers before they left. He heard a squeal coming from Beyonce as she opened the double doors to the grand bedroom.
There were red roses and red balloons all over the room. Petals were scattered on the floor and on the table, there was a bottle of wine in a bucket with two glasses. Her eyes widened when she finally looked at the large teddy bear and her eyes nearly watered. He followed her into the bedroom and she picked up a card that was settled perfectly on the bed. She smiled, reading the wording on the page.
Welcome to Paris Mr. and Mrs Richardson.
Micheal handled everything regarding this trip as he wanted her to relax and allow him to take care of her. She had never seen something so thoughtful and she couldn't believe he did this for her. She was so grateful that she was finally being loved the way she always wanted to.
"Thank you for everything. I love it." She said, embracing him for a hug. "I'm so happy we're finally in Paris."
"You're welcome." Micheal leaned his head against hers. "What are we doing first?"
"We're going swimming in that divine infinity pool."
"Swimming? We could do that in Louisiana."
"But we're in Paris. You can't swim in a Parisian pool back home." She teased and before he could protest, she walked back to the room door. "Help me unpack these suitcases. I need to get my swimsuit out."
An hour later, Micheal took a sip of his latte, continuing to read the morning newspaper. He felt the sun burning down on his skin while he adjusted his sunglasses. He looked over his shoulder, watching the city of Paris from below. He had never been here and he couldn't lie, the architecture and style of the city was alluring.
Beyonce fixed her swimsuit, swaying out of the rooftop pool. She walked towards her man, water dripping down her golden skin. When he looked up from the paper, she collapsed onto his body, resting her wet head on his chest. He chuckled, feeling the water droplets from her drenched body. "You've got to be kidding me."
"Sorry, baby." She teased, closing her eyes. "There were no other lounge chairs open."
That was a lie. Almost all the other chairs were open. He just placed a kiss on her forehead, grabbing a nearby towel and placing it over them. She snuggled into him as he ran his hand up and down her back. Then, he looked back at his newspaper and continued reading. After swimming, they went back to the suite where they showered and got ready for the day.
