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

drink. Some of them even manage to serve
edible food and potable drink, and a few of those are still affordable. Come
on, I’ll take you to one not far from here.”
    As it turned out, the place Jeanne had in mind no longer served anything
remotely edible or potable. It had been replaced, like so many other cafés over
the past years, by a trendy, color-block white, optometry boutique.
    “I can’t believe it!” Jeanne said. “Do the math—one hundred percent
of Parisians need food and drink. Only ten percent, maybe twenty tops, need
eyeglasses. How come all my favorite cafés and restaurants get supplanted by
these lifeless concept stores that sell you a piece of plastic and glass for
three hundred euros?”
    Jeanne shook her head and then narrowed her eyes as she glanced at Lena’s
elegant glasses. “Well, I guess it’s because there are enough people out there
prepared to pay three hundred euros for a piece of plastic and glass.”
    Lena smiled apologetically. This probably wasn’t a good time to reveal
that her understated glasses with a logo so discrete it was invisible to the
naked eye, cost over eight hundred euros.
    “Why don’t we go back to La Bohème for lunch? You can violate my
innocence some other time. I love the chef’s cooking, and I want to profit from
it while La Bohème still stands,” she said.
    “Knock on wood. I hope La Bohème won’t go under anytime soon. In
all modesty, it’s one of the best bistros in Paris. I would throttle Pierre
with my bare hands if he ever decided to sell it to an optometrist.”
    Fifteen minutes later, they were back at La Bohème , where the
lunch service was in full swing, with the suit-and-tie crowd dominating the
scene.
    Lena held her palms out in dismay. “All the tables are taken.”
    “Follow me,” Jeanne beckoned and led her to the backyard where a large
teak table had been laid for six. “We set this up last week as the staff’s
private summertime patio. Wait here, I’ll go get us food. If you’re lucky, I
may even return with some chicken broth.”
    Lena sat down, poured herself a glass of water and counted thirty drops
of echinacea. As she drank the bitter-tasting potion, someone walked into the
backyard carrying a steaming plate. Without even looking up, Lena knew it was
Rob.
    * * *

“Lena! What are you doing here?” Rob asked in a strangely coarse voice.
He sat down across from her and looked at her attentively.
    Lena felt her heart quicken. The effect he had on her was disconcerting. “I
was going to have lunch with Jeanne,” she said, trying not to sound
self-conscious. “And there were no free tables out front, so she brought me
here.”
    Thankfully, Jeanne showed up at that moment carrying Lena’s broth and a
plate of seafood and mashed potatoes for herself. “Oh, I see we have company.
What brings you to La Bohème at this early hour?”
    Rob let out a heavy sigh. “Pepe is what. Or rather the absence thereof.
He was supposed to help out Didier and Laure this afternoon but his noble
intentions were thwarted by a plumbing emergency. At least that’s what he
claims.”
    Jeanne rolled her eyes.
    “Pierre didn’t really understand his complicated explanations on the
phone this morning. Anyway, your humble servant was called to the rescue and
accepted to lend a hand . . . once they told me Claude was
serving seared scallops as a lunch special.”
    Jeanne put her hand over her heart and then wiped off an imaginary tear. “Your
generosity knows no limits, Rob. I feel so privileged to be working with you.”
    “Can you write that down in Pierre’s guestbook?” Rob asked.
    Jeanne raised an eyebrow. “I’m too shy. But sentiments aside, is Pepe
planning to show up at all today? I’d like to know if we’re going to be one man
short for the dinner service.”
    “He swore on his great-aunt Dolores’s grave he’d be here by four. So I
wouldn’t worry,” Rob said, his tone earnest but his mouth twitching ever