Not a "Love" Story

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Chapter Forty Five

TAYLOR (P.O.V)

"Mom, I got it. Don't worry. Her name is Alice right?"

"Yes. Please do not go with someone else alright?" I roll my eyes, dragging both my suitcases down the airport station. I got off the plane an hour ago, had to grab my suitcases, also find something to eat, and then call my mother. And now she's telling me I have to find this girl named Alice? This is honestly too much work for me.

"Mom look I gotta go. I'll call you later. Tell dad I love him."

"Okay darling, I'll talk to you later. Bye," she says, ending the call.

"Bye." With a deep breathe I end the call as well, placing my phone back in the pocket. "Great, now I have to find a girl named Alice. Totally not hard," I mutter, walking to the elevator. Going down I notice tons of people holding huge papers with people's names on them, my eyes stopping at the paper with my name on it. Great, I guess I'm making a new friend today.

"Um, Alice?" I say walking up to the girl.

"Bonjour! Are you Taylor?" I nod, laughing at how cute her French accent is.

"Oui, je suis Taylor," I tell her. Smiling she ties her blond hair, putting the paper away in her bag she gives me a tight hug. "Oh, okay, I guess we're hugging," I mumble.

"Je ne peux pas croire que tu es là! Ce sera tellement amusant! J'ai hâte de vous faire visiter Paris et le magasin! Votre mère était un patron extraordinaire, mais je suis sûr que vous serez deux fois plus incroyable!" She says in laughter. Oh crap. Trying to translate that whole sentence in my head, I hope that she isn't like bad mouthing me French.

"Um, Merci?" She laughs, grabbing my hand to pull me away from the whole group of people.

"Do not worry, I also speak English as well. Yet French is my strongest language because I do live here."

"Phew, thank you. I mean I do know some French yet English is my strongest language, because well, I live in America," I say. Giggling she takes one of my suitcases, pulling me out of the airport station.

"Oh! I have my voiture here with me." Voiture?

"Oh, that means car!" She nods, showing me a cute little blue car. Unlocking it she puts my suitcases in the back, yet I hold onto my bag.

"Come! I will show you the store!" Nodding I get inside the car, while Alice goes on the other side.

"So, how is my mother as a boss?" I ask her because honestly, I really just wanna know.

"Mrs. Smith is amazing! She is, how do you say, très incroyable!" I scoff, wondering if the word actually means crazy old women, not incredible.

"Are you sure?"

"Oui! She is quite an amazing boss Ms. Smith."

"Oh please, you don't have to call me Ms. Smith. You can just call me Taylor."

"Really?" I nod with a smile. "Great! I can't wait for you to be my new boss Taylor!" I laugh, my eyes staring at the view of Paris.

"Holy crap! The Eiffel Tower!" I yell in the car, pointing at the tiny figure of the Eiffel Tower out my window.

"Well of course! We have many beautiful things here in Paris. If you want, I would love to show you around more. But first, we have to go to the store."

"Oh yeah, of course," I tell her. Turning my head I look out the window, watching the beautiful streets of Paris. Honestly, Paris isn't a bad place to live. If I was filthy rich, I'd live here forever.

"We're here Ms. Smith! Oops, I mean Taylor," she says in embarrassment.

"Whoa..." Opening the car door I look at the humongous store that is somehow, my mother's. Well, mine now.

"Isn't it beautiful? Even the clothes are fabulous!" I nod at Alice, yet my eyes continue to stare at the store. The whole store is with glass windows, the name "Smiths" with gold letters on the top of the building, two guards standing at the front of the door, and a freaking long gold carpet that continue out the door to outside? Wait, now I'm confused. What is this place?

"Alice... is this my mom's store?" She nods rapidly, a huge smile on her face as she looks at the store.

"Oui! Well, not anymore. It is yours now. Toutes nos félicitations!"

"This has got to be a joke..." I whisper, my brain not even processing things through. Back in Florida, my mom's store was extremely small compared to this! It never had guards, or gold letters on it or a freaking carpet! And she just had opened this store a year ago in Paris?! Ay Caramba...

"Is this the girl?" Turning my head I see a guy, probably my age, walking up to me and Alice.

"Duh Victor. Can't you see the resemblance?"

"Not really. She looks like a clochard Alice. Regarde ses vêtements!" he says, motioning at the clothes I'm wearing. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did you just call me a hobo? Also, there is nothing wrong with my clothes!" I tell him, not understanding why he has to call me a hobo! I'm only wearing sweats and a hoodie because I freaking stayed on an airplane for nine hours!

"Wonderful. She knows French. The language of love," he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at the last word.

"Great, I think I just lost my appetite."



Amy Sparks

#69 in Romance
#20 in Young adult

Story about: love, romance, teen fiction

Edited: 01.03.2019

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