The soft, morning sunlight casts its glow on a sign, which is adorned by exquisite, looping French. I can't discern what it says, but no explanation is necessary for the splendor of treats in the cheerful, store window. A mountain of delicious pastries sit, freshly baked, calling to me. Small, silver bells tinkle as a push open the door. Oh, the smell! Butter, fresh breads, chocolates, cheeses, and coffees emit the most stunning combination of aromas. Small tables and wire-backed chairs sit beneath the stained glass lamp, which casts a rainbow across the splendor. There is so much to choose from. Braided bread, croissants, chocolate-covered rolls, and a variety of sprinkled cookies are just a few of the options. Finally, I settle for a homemade cup of hot chocolate, with shaved curls of chocolate floating on the steamy surface, a cheese pastry, and a seven layer cookie. The seven layer cookie is the bakery's specialty. The top is covered in dark chocolate, then followed by a layer of red-pink cake, raspberry jelly, yellow-white cake, more jelly, a green layer of cake, and a chocolate bottom. I bite into the seven layers of paradise, savoring each morsel.
I decide I need to organize myself. I have to keep focus on the true reason for being in Paris, although the pastries seem ample reason enough. I make a careful list of everything that has happened so far.
-The letters from OG
-Finding the stamp and wax
-Getting locked out of my room
-Mrs. Chagney's reaction to the roses
I think back to earlier this morning, while I take another bite of my cheese pastry. Mmm! The bread is flaky and crisp, buttery. Piled atop is a layer of whipped cheese topped with sweet honey and flavorful cinnamon. Back to the mystery. The roses were fresh, likely picked from the garden. I hadn't thought them to odd until I experienced Mrs. Chagney's reaction. I wonder why she was so upset. I wonder what she said. I tear the corner of my list and carefully transcribe the words 'L'amour ne meurt jamais'. I'll ask the man behind the counter if he can decipher them before I leave.
I take the final sip of my hot chocolate, wistful. Hopefully I'll have time for another before I solve this mystery. I throw away my napkins in the small wastebasket by the door. I tentatively walk to the counter and ask the man shelving cookies if he could translate something for me. With his consent, I hand him the tiny scrap of paper. A slight smile slides up his lips as he says, " Ah, 'love never dies'. Someone has an admirer."
Even though it's not true, I blush. Thanking him for his help, I pull open the door with the silver bells and make my way back to the opera house. The momentary respite was a blessing, for I know there are far more daunting mysteries in this city of love.
YOU ARE READING
The Perri Mistero Series: Black Roses Fall
Mystery / ThrillerPerri is a young girl with a passion. She loves solving strange urban legends and mysteries. She tackles whatever she can, and on top of it, writes what happens on her world famous blog. Now, Perri travels to Paris to unravel the strange "Phantom of...
