Free Baguette Murder: Book 3 (A Patisserie Mystery with Recipes) by Harper Lin Page A

Clémence teased.

    “Well, I think there are better views of Paris, like on top of the George Pompidou, or the roof of Galerie Lafayette.”  

    “Or from the Sacré-Cœur,” said Clémence.  

    “I rarely go to that section of Montmartre.” Arthur crinkled his nose. “But, you’re right. It is funny that I’ve never been up the Arc. What do you say we go up now?

    “Why now?”  

    He shrugged. “Since you’re with me, it might be nice.”  

    “I thought you hated tourist stuff.”  

    “I can’t let some dumb people in horrid sandals and oversized cameras stop me from enjoying my own city. Come on.”  

    “Okay, but I’ll warn you, there are a lot of stairs to climb.”  

    “No need to worry.” Arthur grinned. “I’m incredibly fit.”  

    The Arc de Triomphe stood in the middle of the Place Charles de Gaulle, a large road junction where twelve avenues intersected. The avenues met at the Arc, forming a star shape, and it was essentially a huge roundabout that they had no way of crossing. Instead, there was an underground passageway in order to enter the Arc.  

    The Arc was built to honor those who fought during the French Revolution and it stood at 164 feet tall. The tourists on the streets were snapping away, in awe of its size. Clémence had been up once during a school trip when she was eleven, and another time when her American cousins came to visit when she was sixteen. Both times she’d been thoroughly impressed by the view from the top. The second time she’d visited, the sun had been setting, and the skyline had been washed in pinks and purples; the city really lived up to its own image of beauty.  

    The weather that day was perfect. No sign of rain clouds, which were constantly threatening the state of the weather and the moods of the city’s inhabitants. There was a lineup, but it was a Tuesday morning and it wasn’t as long as it was at peak times. After waiting for ten minutes, where she and Arthur soaked in their surroundings and Arthur even managed to crack a few funny jokes and made her laugh, they got to the ticket booth. Arthur insisted on paying for them.  

    “You really don’t have to,” Clémence said. After all, it wasn’t a date. Just a friendly stroll.  

    “I know I don’t have to. I want to. Besides, you’ll owe me.”

    “Owe you?” She lightly smacked him on the chest.  

    “Yes, when we get to the top, you’ll have to kiss me.”  

    Clémence laughed. She wondered what had gotten into Arthur lately. He’d loosened up and gotten more comfortable around him. He could really turn on the charm when he wanted to; she could see why he was such a lady’s man.  

    “We’ll see if you can get to the top without panting,” said Clémence.  

    Sure enough, the long, dark and dank staircase took a toll on him—the both of them—after a few minutes of climbing. They stopped near the top, where they watched a video about the Arc’s history and poked around the souvenir shop. Arthur bought a 3-D Arc de Triomphe puzzle for his younger brothers. If he had done that even partly to make Clémence’s heart melt, he had succeeded.  

    “There’s something different about you these days,” she said. “You’re not insulting me and making snotty comments—not as much as you used to anyway. You’re actually nice. What’s gotten into you?”  

    Instead of answering, he simply gazed deep into her eyes. His irises were so brown and warm. His body was mere inches from her and she could smell his aftershave. His gaze moved down to her lips and he leaned in, closer and closer.  

    Then suddenly, he backed off. “Come on.”  

    He squeezed her hand and pulled her to the staircase, where they continued up to the very top.

    Crowds of tourist admired the view of the streets below, and the sky and city that was open all around them.  

    Arthur and Clémence didn’t exude the same awe as the visitors, since they did have stunning views of the city