Aimee Duffy - Point Us to Paris

Book Three of Summer Flings

Aimée Duffy

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HarperCollins Publishers Ltd

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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014

Copyright © Aimee Duffy 2014

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Aimee Duffy asserts the moral right

to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is

available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are

the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to

actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is

entirely coincidental.

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written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © August 2014

ISBN:9780008106287

Version 2014-07-22

Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

Copyright HarperImpulse an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 77–85 Fulham Palace Road Hammersmith, London W6 8JB www.harpercollins.co.uk First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014 Copyright © Aimee Duffy 2014 Cover images © Shutterstock.com Aimee Duffy asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins. Ebook Edition © August 2014 ISBN:9780008106287 Version 2014-07-22 Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.

Dedication For the ninja, super-graphic-girl and queen Catco. I couldn't have done this without the support of you 'special' ladies.

Paris

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Aimée Duffy

About HarperImpulse

About the Publisher

For the ninja, super-graphic-girl and queen Catco.

I couldn't have done this without the support of you 'special' ladies.

Paris really was the city of romance and Ciara was reminded of it every stinking second.

‘You’re messing with our karma, Cia,’ Elle said, but despite the words her friend didn’t look annoyed with her. Her eyes were almost as sad as Ciara felt.

‘I’m sorry. No more moping, I promise.’ She sipped at the red wine they’d ordered in a small bar not far from the designer shops both Gem and Elle had dragged her around.

Beneath the table were all her friends’ bags with so many new clothes that they were going to have to pay another excess weight fee at the airport when they left for their next stop.

‘You know the best way to get over a guy is to get under another,’ Gem pointed out. ‘We’re going to the club tonight. Maybe we’ll meet a trio of gorgeous Frenchmen.’

Ciara forced a smile, feigning excitement. Elle’s sharp look told her it was a wasted effort. After a few tears had appeared when they got to Miami International, her friends hadn’t taken her gaze off her since. Pretending to sleep for the whole flight just to get the attention off her hadn’t worked. It just made them more determined to cheer her up.

‘I don’t think that’s what she needs, Gem.’ Elle reached into her purse and pulled out a couple of notes, then left them on the table. ‘But I have an idea.’

‘Oh hell, what now?’ Her mind was too busy churning through the possibilities that she didn’t even moan at Elle for paying the bill.

‘Where are we going?’ Gem asked when Elle picked up her bags.

‘You’ll see. I didn’t waste all that effort getting us into Le Baron for Ciara to wear a face like that all night.’

‘Thanks Elle,’ she murmured dryly. Then something clicked. ‘Wait, isn’t that the private club the Russian mafia lords drink in?’

She’d googled the night life in Paris before her shopping trip in Miami to try and figure out what to buy with her vouchers, and La Baron was one of the clubs she remembered, just not for the right reasons.

Elle laughed. ‘It used to be, but it’s under new management now. Relax.’

‘So why did it take so much effort to get in?’ she asked as they started off down the street.

‘Because it’s private. And exclusive. I want to go. Obviously.’

There really was no stopping her friend when the chin tilt appeared so she sighed and gave in for the moment. It didn’t take Elle long until they got to their destination and Ciara couldn’t stop her chin from dropping. Two windows showcasing sleek, black dresses would have been enough to stop her in her tracks, but above that and the door a black metal balcony with gold letters stunned her.

Elle was taking them to Givenchy , knowing how much Ciara loved the black dress she borrowed from Elle for a spring dance a few years before. But this was just cruel. Taking her to a shop that she couldn’t even afford a scarf in.

‘Come on,’ Elle said, pulling her toward the door.

‘I can’t go in there.’ Ciara tried to wrestle her arm back.

‘You’re going alright. Gem, get her other arm!’

They had such a tight hold on her that struggling wasn’t just humiliating in front of all the passers by, but totally pointless. Strong-arming her into the shop can’t have been easy with her wriggling and the bags they were already carrying, but they did a better job than she could have.

‘I hate you for this! Both of you!’ she hissed, closing her eyes to make it hurt less. If she saw any of the dresses, the accessories, she’d be saying ‘bye, bye’ to the rest of her money.

‘You’re going to love me soon,’ Elle said, not even out of bloody breath!

‘What, when I’m penniless and on the next flight to Dublin? I doubt it.’

A woman’s voice asked in French if they needed assistance, but her lessons from high school failed her as she couldn’t remember how to say ‘yes, call the feckin’ guards.’

Elle answered in fluent French, making Ciara hate her even more. Then she was being dragged again and in a bid to end this madness, she planted her feet and refused to budge.

She should have known that wouldn’t stop Elle.

‘Drop the bags. We’ll pick this cry baby up and carry her to the changing rooms,’ Elle said to Gem.