Read What If It's Love?: A Contemporary Romance Set in Paris (Bistro La Bohème Book 1) for Free Online Page B

comforting to say, when she saw the old
man sitting at the table next to theirs. She winced. “Oh no, not him again.”
    Today, he was wearing cream trousers and a well-ironed blue shirt with a
silk cravat tucked into its open collar. He had pointy shoes and a thin white
mustache. He was dining in the company of a boy in his late teens, probably his
grandson. Lena had nicknamed him GLL—the Geriatric Latin Lover. He was
the plague of the bistro, the harasser of waitresses, and an embarrassment to
whomever he dined with.
    Jeanne approached his table, a notepad in her hand. “Has monsieur chosen
his dessert?”
    “No, monsieur hasn’t,” he replied, then looked Jeanne over, smiled a
sleazy smile, and winked. “Can we ask the chef to put you on the menu?”
    Lena couldn’t believe her ears. This was worse than the previous
borderline comments she’d heard him make. And then he winked again, this time
at his grandson. The boy looked so utterly mortified that Lena half expected
him to dip under the table and put his head between his knees.
    “Oh, but there’s no need to bother the chef,” Jeanne said far too
sweetly. “I’m already on today’s specials. It’s written on the chalkboard over
there.”
    She pointed, and GLL instinctively turned and squinted at the chalkboard.
    Jeanne gave him a few seconds then said, her voice full of sympathy, “Is
it too far for you to read? Or maybe too close? You must need a new
prescription for your glasses.”
    GLL had now turned to glare at her. His mouth twitched.
    Jeanne continued. “What a bummer, old age . . . You hang
in there, monsieur, it will all be over soon. You just wink like that a few
more times, and poof! No more eyesight issues or any issues at all, for that
matter.”
    GLL looked like someone had hit him with a sledgehammer.
    But Jeanne wasn’t about to give him a reprieve. “So,” she said, all
businesslike. “Will you be ordering now, or shall we continue exchanging
pleasantries while other customers wait to be served?”
    “Canwehavethecheck, please?” the boy mumbled. He cleared his throat and
repeated more distinctly, “Can we have the check now, please?”
    “Sure—I’ll get it right away! No dessert then, I guess.” Jeanne
produced a disappointed sigh and turned on her heel, finally allowing herself
to smirk.
    Mat, who’d followed Jeanne’s repartee as keenly as he would have watched
Jesus walk on water, broke into a triumphant grin. “Did you hear that? Can you
see now why I can’t put this woman out of my mind?” He began to clap.
    Lena found herself wishing she had a friend like
Jeanne—ballsy, witty, cool. She expected Jeanne to acknowledge Mat’s
enthusiasm, but the waitress walked right past him without a glance in his
direction.
    Lena’s phone rang and Rob startled. His stomach clenched when he glimpsed
the caller ID.
    “Sorry, I have to take this,” she said and moved away a little.
    The conversation was hushed but not enough to be unintelligible. Lena
summarized her Geneva trip and said, “Daddy, how about I don’t go to Moscow in
July, and you visit me in Paris instead?”
    Her father didn’t appear to have jumped at that idea, because Lena was
resorting to heavy artillery. “The climate here is great for my heart. And the
summer is much milder than in Moscow . . . Come on, Dad, please?
We can visit the Loire castles.”
    Either the castles or the heart nailed it, because Lena beamed and said,
“You’re the best! And early August is perfect.”
    Rob texted Boris an hour later, after Lena had gone
home.
    Sounds
like Mr. M. will be visiting Lena in early August. They are planning to travel
in France. That’s all for now.
    It wasn’t that difficult, after all, was it? He’d just made the fastest
money he’d ever made in his whole life.
    If only he could get rid of the foul taste in his mouth.

Why now, so much affection?
    These aren’t the first caresses
    I’ve known, and lips I’ve tasted
    Much
sweeter, my