Today might be the last day she ever spent in Europe and she didn’t want to hurry. Aéroport Paris–Charles de Gaulle would always be there tonight or tomorrow. Besides she had already almost missed her flight because she couldn’t find her passport.

They had been in Paris for six months, yet there was so much she hadn’t been able to see or do. She had spent most of her time waiting around the apartment hoping Alex would join her, but the brunette was always too busy.

One of the places she really wanted to go was Les Deux Magots.  She knew it was a popular tourist attraction because it has once been a trendy hang out for famous intellectuals in the earlier part of the 20^th century. This is what really attracted her literary mind. She remembered that the café was once frequented by the likes of Hemingway, Camus, and Joyce, and Brecht. It was actually amazing she and Alex hadn’t checked it out, considering how literary they both were.

With her mind made up she started to make her way to the nearest Station de Taxi, but second guessing herself, she decided she would rather walk. She knew it would take longer to walk from their apartment in the Le Marais district of the 4^th arrondissement to Saint Germain, but she knew the sights would be better. Le Marais was the unofficial gay mecca of Paris and while it was generally a fun place to hang out, she decided that spending a little of Alex’s money in the ritzy-er Saint Germain district might do her heart some good.

Roughly half an hour later she managed to grab an outdoor table at the café. It had just been vacated by a gorgeous couple whose obvious affection for one another made her heart lurch, but she couldn’t be picky when it appeared every other table was taken. Once she was seated she took a quick peek at the café menu and ordered Foie gras de canard et toasts Poilâne and a cold Café Viennois. She wanted to add a Pousse Café for drinking after her coffee, but the pronunciation tended to send her into a fit of giggles so she had always made Alex order it for her. Alex sounded much sexier saying it than she did, anyhow.

Just as she was cursing herself for thinking of Alex, a dark haired man across from her folded his newspaper and waved at her to catch her attention, “Are you American?”

She blushed slightly, “Yes, was my French that terrible?”

He laughed, “No, not at all…there was only a slight detection of an accent.” He then, stood up from his table and made his way over to hers, taking a sit in the empty chair.

She raised her eyebrows at the casualness of the action. He caught her expression and held up his hands, “Sorry. Hi, my name’s Larry. I’m not usually this forward, but would you care to share a table with me? It’s just that I’ve been on assignment here for 2 weeks and to be honest, I have  exhausted all of the French I know and it would be really nice to carry on a conversation with another American.” He then leaned in conspiratorially, “Besides, in case you haven’t noticed, some of these Frenchies are assholes.”

Although, his assessment was crude, she laughed despite herself. He then gave her a boyish look, “So….?”

She bit the inside of her bottom lip…he was definitely no Alex. But he would do. In place of an affirmative answer, she raised her hand across the tabletop, “It’s Piper. Pleasure to meet you.”