PARISIAN HEARTS

Chapter 7

Isabelle sat in her tiny apartment, staring at her half-finished painting. She’d been trying to work for hours, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Adrien. His presence had unsettled her in ways she didn’t fully understand. There was something beneath his polished exterior, something raw and real, but he had walked away before she could grasp it.

A knock at the door broke her thoughts. She stood up, pushing back her chair, and opened the door to find Marie standing there, a playful smirk on her face.

“You’re coming with me tonight,” Marie announced, not waiting for an invitation.

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “To where?”

“To the gallery opening downtown! It’ll be good for you to get out and mingle with people in the art world. Plus, I hear it’s going to be filled with collectors.”

Isabelle hesitated. She wasn’t really in the mood to socialize, especially after the conversation with Adrien, but she knew Marie had a point. She needed to put herself out there if she wanted her art to be noticed.

“I don’t know, Marie. I’m not really dressed for a fancy gallery.”

Marie rolled her eyes and stepped inside, already rummaging through Isabelle’s small closet. “We’ll find something. You need this, Isabelle. Who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone who appreciates your work.”

As Marie continued to pull out dresses and critique each one, Isabelle felt the knot in her stomach tighten. She wasn’t ready for more exposure, wasn’t ready for people like Adrien’s wealthy circles, but she knew staying hidden in her apartment wasn’t helping her either.

“Alright,” Isabelle relented, grabbing a dress Marie had tossed onto the bed. “Let’s go.”

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The gallery was packed when they arrived. The bright lights illuminated the walls covered in bold, modern art pieces, and the buzz of conversation filled the room. Isabelle felt a pang of insecurity as she walked through the crowd. She didn’t belong here—not yet.

But Marie was already pulling her toward a group of artists and patrons, her charm on full display. Isabelle lingered behind, taking in the space, when her eyes caught something unexpected—Adrien.

He stood near a massive abstract painting, speaking to a group of men in tailored suits. His presence was magnetic, and even in this crowd of powerful people, he stood out. He hadn’t seen her yet, and for a moment, she considered slipping away before he did.

But Marie spotted him too. “Isn’t that the guy you met by the river?”

Isabelle nodded, her throat suddenly dry. “Yeah. That’s him.”

Marie gave her a nudge. “Go talk to him.”

“I can’t. He’s with—” Isabelle stopped, but it was too late. Adrien had looked up and seen her. His eyes locked on hers, and for a brief moment, neither of them moved.

Then, as if the crowd parted just for him, Adrien made his way toward her.

“You’re full of surprises,” he said when he reached her. His voice was low, almost teasing, but there was something deeper behind it, something she couldn’t quite read.

Isabelle forced a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you here either.”

Adrien’s gaze flickered over the room. “This world can be exhausting. But it’s necessary.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say. The awkwardness between them was palpable, and yet there was a strange connection, something pulling her toward him despite her better judgment.

“Would you like to get some air?” Adrien asked, his tone softening. “This place is a bit much for conversation.”

Isabelle glanced back at Marie, who gave her an encouraging nod. Reluctantly, she agreed and followed Adrien out of the crowded gallery, her pulse quickening as they stepped into the cool Parisian night.