a/n: I'm only going to put this note on this chapter: I'm going to have some mini flashbacks with Jamie and Ollie from before and during Harper's wedding. They will be italicized like it is below. The rest is present day with Ollie also in Paris, France. Enjoy!

***

This right here was why guys hated shopping so much. 

Jamie dragged me to the mall over two hours ago to help her find a dress for her best friend's wedding. A wedding where I stupidly volunteered to be her date. Okay, she didn't necessarily drag me here. She asked me to come, and the word 'yes' slipped out before I could even think about it. But it was stupid of me to volunteer. For many reasons. 

Leaning back in the very uncomfortable chair outside of the women's fitting room, I stretched my legs out, crossing them at the ankles, and exhaled a deep breath. I should actually be packing right now. I was way behind on getting all my stuff into storage before I moved out of the country. But instead of doing what I was supposed to be doing, I was here. 

That day in the coffee shop came to mind and I couldn't help but smile a little when I remembered my interaction with Jamie. She was so flustered and overwhelmed. Clearly, she had been dealing with her overbearing mother for a while now. I still had no idea what possessed me to offer to be her date. 

There was just something about Jamie that reached out to me. Something that caught my attention and drew me to her. After she accepted my offer and I left her in front of that coffee shop, I went home and sat on my couch, replaying the whole thing over in my head. I kept trying to understand why the hell I would do something like this. Why I would put myself in a position of getting to know someone with a witty, fiery personality. Or the eyes of a warrior.

Shit. Her eyes were ocean blue and fierce, proof that she had dealt with some real shit in her life and survived it. She was strong. Brave. A complete fucking mess. And the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. 

Deciding to focus on something else, I tilted my head towards her dressing room. "Are you still alive in there?"

"I'll be out in a minute! Be patient!"

"Patient?" I scoffed. "Jamie, I've been sitting here like a good boy in this godforsaken uncomfortable chair while you've tried on over a dozen dresses. How many more do you have in there? Wait, I bet someone's in there with you making these right now, right?" 

"Very funny," she drawled, and even though I couldn't see her, I knew she was rolling her eyes. 

More rustling from the fitting room. What the hell was taking her so long with this one? She's been in there for awhile now. 

"Why didn't you ask one of your friends to come with you?" I frowned when something occurred to me. "Aren't you a bridesmaid? Don't you all wear the same dress that the bride picks out?" 

When silence answered me, I started to turn towards the fitting room. Then I heard the sound of the door opening so I stayed where I was and waited for her to come out with her newest option. Hopefully this one looked better than the others she tried on. I told her before we got here that if she wanted me to come, I was going to be blatantly honest with her regarding my opinion. But I was kinda hoping that we could start having more good reviews than bad ones.

"What do you think?" 

Time and everything else came to a startling halt as my eyes ate up the view in front of me. She had on a blue silky dress that went to the floor. There was a deep V in the front and a thigh-high slit on the right side. The color of the dress made her blue eyes stand out more. Her long red curls were draped over one shoulder. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

As I stared at her like an idiot, she frowned and looked down at herself. "Well? Yes or no? I'm getting desperate here. I think I tried on the whole store." 

I tried to think of an answer. Pretty much anything to say to her. But apparently my brain turned into mashed potatoes or something, because forming words seemed impossible. The dress looked like it was made for her. Like she was meant to wear it. 

God, she was so fucking beautiful. 

She started walking back to the fitting room. "You know what? You're right. This clearly isn't the right dress." 

I caught her hand as she walked past me. She stopped and looked down at me with wide eyes, clearly surprised by my action. But she didn't move her hand. 

Looking up into those blue warrior eyes of hers I murmured, "It's perfect, Jamie. It's...you." 

***

As I finished cleaning the end of my paint brush, I started to seriously consider quitting my job. It wasn't that the money wasn't great. Or that I didn't absolutely love painting. It was the motivation. Ever since I got that goddamn phone call from Jamie, I haven't been able to think straight. 

I knew I broke the rules when I reached out to her before. I couldn't help it. After the night of the wedding in that hotel room, I couldn't stop thinking about her. Hell, even before that. But that day she called me caused different thoughts to go through my mind. 

In the short time I'd known her, I've never heard her voice like that. It was always strong and sure. Like she wasn't going to take shit from anyone. That night was different. She was scared. Desperate. On the verge of losing it. The fact that she reached out to me alone told me something big must have happened. 

That was the first time I regretted being away from New York. My first instinct was to go to her and to make sure she was okay. But she shut her phone off and I didn't know how to reach any of her nearest and dearest. There was also the possibility of me losing my job if I just up and left. And what if she didn't even want to see me and I came running over there like some stalker? No. It was better if I stayed here and focused on my work. 

The sound of a door opening told me that it was getting close to dinner time. I rarely paid attention to the clock these days. And when I got caught up in my work, I forgot to eat. Hence, the person who just walked in. 

"Is it that time?" I asked, not turning around. 

"Oui. Je suis là. You know if I don't bring you dinner every day, you will starve to death. Then how will you be able to paint for us?" 

Turning around, I smiled at my boss' wife with the strong French accent. Simone was tall and slim with blonde hair and green eyes. Even though she was attractive, she just didn't do it for me.

"I wouldn't starve, Sim. But I will admit that you bring me the best stuff. If I had to fend for myself, it would be only those pastries from—"

"La Rose De Baguette? Yes, I'm aware. I've seen the take-out boxes piled up outside. If you keep this up, you'll turn into a danish, mon Ami." 

That made me chuckle. One thing I liked about Simone was her sense of humor. She passed through the warehouse every day and always seemed to make me laugh and bring me out of whatever slump I was in lately. I would bet cash money that she knew something was bothering me. 

My boss, Jean-Luc and his wife were the only people I knew here. Besides the pastry chef at La Rose De Baguette, of course. And ever since this warehouse became my new home and I started this job, they've become very good friends of mine. 

That little piece of knowledge was what I tried to explain to Jamie when she heard Simone's voice over the phone. I should have liked that she was a little jealous about that. But something inside of me told me to make sure she knew that Simone was nothing more than a friend. A part of me thought it was silly that I even thought that way since Jamie and I weren't a couple.

Nevertheless, she was the only one I was thinking about. The only one I wanted to think about. And the fact that I knew something was wrong was making me think crazy things. 

"Ollie? Are you still with me?" 

I looked over at Simone. She was holding a takeout bag from my favorite restaurant. "Sorry. What?" 

She sat the food on the small table in front of me, her expression concerned. "Where did you go just now? In your head. You can tell me." 

Reaching into the bag, I pulled out the container. My mouth watered when I smelled the delicious garlic bread. Especially the best meal on the menu there—L'ENTRECÔTE. "It's nothing, Sim. This food smells great by the way. Thanks for picking it up." 

Simone came around the table and stopped beside me just as I took the top off and eyes the ribeye steak. Knowing how stubborn my friend was, I turned to face her. 

"What."

She reached up and placed her small hand on my left cheek. "What is her name?" She murmured. "Is she here in Paris?" 

A corner of my mouth lifted in a smile I didn't quite feel. "What makes you think there's a girl at all?" 

"Ne me mens pas. I can see it written all over your face." 

My smile faltered and my voice was rougher than I wanted it to be. "No, she isn't in Paris. And her name doesn't matter." 

"Of course it matters."

Turning away, I said softly, "It doesn't matter, Simone, because I'm pretty sure I'm never going to see her again." 

***

What do you guys think of that picture for Ollie? I hate that its black and white, but I think its a perfect likeness to how I imagine him!

Xoxo

🖤