Part 37

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>>> February
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I spent the next two months in France. I work for that same company that I did in New York. They now send me the documents online, since they obviously can't deliver them. I also work for another company. It's way under the radar, and absolutely, 100% illegal. I won't elaborate, since they made sure I knew I could never speak of what I do. But, it's really great money. Besides, some of the work I did for Jeff was technically not legal, and I still did it..

I've seen my brother a few times. Turns out, he also changed his last name. But, that was because he'd gotten married, and taken her name. I never would've guessed he'd get married. But, she's quite lovely, and they have three kids together. So, that was exciting to learn. You know, that he turned out at least somewhat normal..

Over the last two months, I've heard from Jeff many, many times. Turns out, I was right. Harry had gotten in trouble when he wouldn't stop drinking. I won't say too much; but basically, he was extremely drunk at the airport, and people noticed. I found it funny, but Jeff was clearly angry about it.. I hadn't spoken to him, just read the texts he'd sent. I never responded.

Apparently he didn't understand that I'd quit. But, I guess eventually he learned, 'cause I haven't heard from him in two weeks..

It's been really nice being back in France. Turns out, I didn't forget much of the language, and still speak it fluently. And even though I've spent a lot of my life speaking English, this feels a lot more natural.

I'm currently sitting in a small, family-owned café that's two streets over from my small apartment. I was reading a French newspaper, skimming through most of it. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and glanced up. It was a man, probably in his mid-30s.

"May I sit?" He asked, in English. He motioned to the seat across from me. I hesitated, not sure who he was, but figured it didn't really matter. "Oui bien sûr." I replied (Yes of course).

He hesitated a moment, obviously not speaking much french, if any at all. Not sure how he'd even gotten this far. He might not have even understood what I'd said, but he sat down anyway. I took a sip from my mug. "Do you speak English?" He asked, his tone giving away that he was both uncomfortable and nervous..

I glanced over at the woman behind the counter. She was eyeing him curiously. As she should. Despite it being Paris, many of the tourists stay away from this side of town. She doesn't speak much English, and neither do many of her customers.

I shrugged, looking at him. He didn't seem to know what to say next, and I rolled my eyes. "What do you want?" I asked, seeing that nervous look still in his eyes.

"You're Brynn Matthews, right?" He questioned. I shrugged again. "Depends who's asking." I replied, setting the french newspaper down. He glanced down at it.

"Well, are you her?" He asked. I looked at him, not sure who he was, but I didn't trust anyone who knew my name. "No." I said. He pulled his phone out, and scrolled through it for a minute, before setting it down on the table in front of me.

I looked at him for a second, before pulling the phone towards me and looking at what was on it. I kept my face straight when I saw it.. It was a picture of me and Harry. I'd seen it many times before. It was one of the ones of him kissing me outside my New York apartment.

"Great photo." I commented, acting like I had no idea what it was, and that I was bored by it. I slid the phone back to him. He was watching me. "You're good. But, I know that's you. Jeffrey Azoff released your name to the press last week." He stated.

"Right.. And you're here, stalking me.. Why?" I questioned. He turned his phone off, returning it to the inside pocket of his blazer. "I work for an online media site, E. You've probably heard of it." He said. "Uh huh. So, why are you stalking me?" I asked.

"It's my job. It took a long time for us to figure out who you were, even after we knew your name. But, we had a few fans give us their stories of meeting you. They told us you were Harry's personal trainer; is that correct?" He questioned. I shrugged.

He nodded. "And so, you two obviously went out, or had a thing or whatever you want to call it. Then, based off pictures and videos that were taken, you broke it off. Why?" He asked

I glanced over at the woman, who was taking an order. But, she was still keeping an eye on this guy, which I was glad for. I've had some good conversations with her, and have gotten pretty close with her and her family..

"You can answer me." He commented, and I looked back over at him. I wasn't talking to this guy. I knew better than that. I pulled my phone out, easily popping the case off. I took out the red card, and slid it across the table.

He picked it up, examining it. Everyone in the news/media-world knows this card. They're required to. He looked at me. "You just got even more interesting." He commented, seeming intrigued.

I put the card back in my case, and got up. "We're not done here." He stated. I turned, looking at him. "Je pense que nous sommes." I replied (I think we are). I walked out, and knew he'd follow me. So before he came out, I quickly went into the shop directly beside the café, shutting the door behind me. It was a small pharmacy.

I moved behind one of the shelves, watching him come out of the café, and look around.

I wasn't sure if he knew where I lived or not. I didn't know how long he'd been following me.

I felt my phone buzz, and pulled it out, still hiding behind the shelf. It was Jeff texting me. I skimmed over it, before shoving it back into my pocket. It was irrelevant. Basically him apologizing and saying that it was impossible to replace me, so he wanted me back. Which, would never happen. Especially now that I know the media is still curious about this whole thing.

I glanced over, seeing the person behind the register watching me. He looked at me, then towards the front entrance. I didn't know if the guy was still out there. I was leaned against one of the shelves, crouched down.

I asked him, in French, if there was a man out there. He simply nodded, and I sighed, not knowing what to do..

I looked back over at him, and he looked around the store, which was empty. Then, he walked over to the front door, and I heard him flip around the open/closed sign, and lock the door.

I sighed, relieved, and slid all the way down, so I was sitting. He went back to the counter, sorting through the money in the register, not looking at me. "Qui est-il?" He asked, and I glanced over at him. He wasn't looking up, and I assumed the guy outside was still there.

I explained to him that the man had been stalking me, but didn't tell him why. He glanced over at the door, making a shooing motion with his hand. "Nous sommes fermés!" He shouted, telling him that it was closed.

After a few minutes, he told me that the man had left, so I got up. I thanked him, and then left, hesitant to go back to my apartment. I wasn't sure if he knew where I lived. But, he'd obviously been following me. So, I took a different route home.

When I got there, I quickly went inside, locking the door behind me. I turned, stopping, seeing someone standing by the window. They were facing the other way, so I couldn't tell who it was....

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