Page 34 of From Notting Hill with Love…Actually (Actually #1)
Sean raised an eyebrow.
“Honestly,” I insisted. “This is what I want. Besides,” I said, trying to sound cheerful as I changed the subject, “this means we now have the rest of our time free to see Paris properly. That’s if you’d like to spend the day with me, of course?”
Sean smiled. “You know I would.”
“Right then, let’s go somewhere now. And, if you promise to be good, I’ll try really hard not to find any movie moments while we’re here—how about that? Come on, Sean,” I urged, taking hold of his hand. “It’ll be fun.”
Sean’s face fell. “Oh, Scarlett, I’d love to—really I would. But I’m afraid I’ve got some business to attend to this afternoon.”
“Oh…oh right.” I tried not to sound too disappointed as I felt his hand fall away from mine. “Well, no matter. I’m sure I’ll be fine on my own. I bet you’ve seen most of it before anyway. You’d probably have been bored.”
“No, of course I wouldn’t. I would have loved showing you around Paris.” He glanced at his watch apprehensively. “What about if you wait for me back at the hotel? I could call you after my meeting and we can go somewhere then. It shouldn’t take too long.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll be fine on my own. I’m a big girl. I can cope.” I was joking to try and lighten the moment, but Sean didn’t smile. “I’ll just meet you for dinner tonight back at the hotel, shall I? Then neither of us will feel the need to rush around this afternoon.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, perfectly.”
“Well, all right,” Sean said, still looking uncertain. “You’d better take this, though.” He held out the map. “You won’t get lost, will you?”
“Sean, I said I’ll be fine. Now just go, please,” I said, taking the map from him.
“Right, I guess I’ll see you later.”
I nodded and watched him while he walked back toward the Metro. It seemed odd to be on my own again. Sean and I had spent so much time together recently that not having him by my side now suddenly felt very strange indeed.
***
Before I descended to the Metro myself, I couldn’t help but pause outside one of the inviting chocolate shops that lined the Champs-Elysées.
They were like nothing I’d ever seen before. The window displays showed chocolate in every flavor and form you could think of, from truffles to marzipan flowers, pralines to ganaches and chocolate sculptures. It was a chocoholic’s paradise .
I allowed my gaze to wander from the window display to the inside of the shop, and it was there that my eyes stopped dead in their tracks and remained on something more gorgeous and more delicious than any Parisian chocolate shop could ever hope to contain: a certain Mr. Johnny Depp buying an expensive-looking box of chocolates.
As I stood staring at him through the window I knew I was probably drooling, but I couldn’t help it—it was Johnny Depp in there, just a few meters away from me, and if that wasn’t enough, he was buying chocolate!
I watched while he paid for his purchase and then to my horror I realized he was now walking in my direction as he made his way toward the exit of the shop.
“Ahoy there!” I called as he stepped out onto the pavement.
Oh my God, what the hell was I saying?
He turned around.
He was just as gorgeous in real life as on the screen. I could feel my knees begin to buckle as his dark-chocolate eyes looked around him.
“Just kids having a joke, I think.” I looked over my shoulder, pretending to spot someone who might be responsible for that ridiculous outburst. I smiled and to my surprise he gave me a half-smile back.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, his voice sounding as sweet to my ears as all the chocolate in the shop would have been to my tongue. “But it’s usually in French over here.”
“So…you’re buying chocolate,” I said as he turned away from me, apparently about to continue down the road.
He paused and turned back. “Er, yes. I do that sometimes. You should go in—he’s one of the best chocolatiers in Paris.” I think he thought perhaps he’d get rid of me that way, but still I didn’t take the hint.
“It’s just it seems funny seeing you buying chocolate in a chocolate shop, with you being in that film—you know the one… Chocolat ?”
Quizzically, Johnny raised one eyebrow at me, and I nearly passed out right there on the Champs-Elysées. “Er, yes, I do remember it.”
“And…and then of course you were also Willy Wonka so there’s a chocolate link there too.”
Oh my God, shut up, Scarlett. What on earth are you saying now?
Johnny smiled at me again.
Well, it was more like a grin this time.
OK, he was laughing at me.
“Yes, indeed there is,” he said, his face becoming serious now.
“I’d never really thought about it like that.
But the thing is I’ve also played the creator of Peter Pan and I can’t really fly.
An astronaut but I’ve never been into space.
A man with scissors for hands and a murdering barber, yet I can’t cut hair and I’ve never killed anyone.
Oh, and as you so kindly pointed out a few minutes ago, a pirate, but do you know something? ”
He walked back along the pavement, then, standing right next to me, he leaned in, his face close to mine.
“You’ve never been to sea?” I whispered, almost unable to speak. He was so close I could smell the aftershave delicately wafting from his oh-so-perfect skin. David is so getting some of that for Valentine’s Day , I thought, wondering if it would be rude of me to ask what brand it was .
“You got it. However,” he said, now whispering into my ear, “when I played Don Juan, the greatest lover in the world…”
He stood up in front of me now and winked. And while he’d managed to render me speechless for a few seconds, he took his chance and bounded off down the Champs-Elysées as fast as his seafaring legs would carry him.
***
When I finally got over first the shock and then the embarrassment of my encounter with Johnny Depp—I mean, what were the chances of that happening?
I knew he had a home in Paris and a French girlfriend, but still—I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to calm myself down by doing the tourist thing of seeing as much of a city as I could in one day.
I hadn’t been to Paris since I was fifteen on a school trip.
Back then I was wandering around with about twenty other teenagers. But this time I was on my own.
I visited the Musée d’Orsay art gallery, staring up in amazement at the huge Monet canvases that adorned the walls of what was once a central Paris railway station.
I went to Notre Dame and again gazed in wonderment at the inside of the vast Gothic cathedral, understanding now how it had been the inspiration for Victor Hugo’s novel and so many of the film adaptations that featured its infamous inhabitant the hunchback.
In Montmartre, I wandered among the artists painting portraits of the tourists that flocked around them.
Briefly I thought about Sean and wondered if he had any artistic leanings.
Maybe he’d like to sketch me like Leo had Kate in Titanic —which would give me another movie to add to my ever-lengthening dossier of proof.
Then I remembered what had happened after they had done that in the movie, and I thought better of it.
I was already in enough trouble with David as it was.
But maybe Sean and I could visit the Moulin Rouge while we were here to catch a show.
I’m sure we wouldn’t have to sing or swing from a trapeze or anything to find something from the movie there…
Finally, I ended up visiting that tourist haven—the Eiffel Tower.
As I stood underneath the enormous iron structure and looked around me, I saw that even though it was now a very late afternoon in February, there were still people everywhere, mainly tourist groups and families…and couples, lots and lots of couples.
Ah, of course, it’s Valentine’s Day. Well, I suppose you can’t get much more romantic than Paris on Valentine’s Day.
I tried hard to think about David. He would probably have arrived back home by now and would be happily pottering away with his latest DIY project. But my thoughts kept disobeying me and returning to Sean.
Even though I’d enjoyed myself this afternoon, I knew I’d have enjoyed it even more if Sean had been with me. I’d had that familiar feeling that something was missing, but this time that something was him.
I watched the people rising to the top of the tower in the lifts, and climbing the long staircases together. I couldn’t go all the way up there on my own; what would be the point of getting to the top and then not having anyone to share the wonderful views with?
So I turned away and began to make my way back to the Metro. Then I stopped and smiled, as an idea began to blossom in my mind.
An idea that could help me make a decision, one way or another…