I can’t believe we got this table.
Out of all the places in Paris, and all the restaurants Bri could’ve picked, we’re sitting at the exact table Mya and I sat at a year ago, when we were still figuring out how to pretend to be in love.
“Brianna…” I narrow my eyes at her.
She’s stifling a smile so hard her cheeks puff. Then she lifts the menu to hide her face. “What?”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just heard this place was, like, a staple.”
“A staple,” I repeat, deadpan. “Right. And this has nothing to do with a certain event that happened here last year?”
Brianna presses her lips into a thin line, stifling a smile. “I plead the fifth.”
“And how exactly did you get a reservation on short notice?”
She shrugs without lowering the menu. “I guess they had a cancellation.”
Uh huh.
The waiter comes over. “Bonsoir, Monsieur Miller. Would you like some champagne to begin?” He sets down two flutes.
I gesture to Bri. “She’s underage.”
“Dad, it’s fine. He can leave it.”
The waiter smiles, unbothered, and fills her another glass with water, leaving the extra flute on the side. “For mademoiselle.”
“Merci,” she says in her best French.
We give our appetizer order, and when the waiter leaves, I get a better look at my kid.
Bri is fidgety. Not bored-fidgety. Actually nervous, as if she’s waiting for something to happen.
“Okay,” I say slowly, leaning an elbow on the table. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” she says again, too fast. “I’m just happy to be here with you.”
Before I can press, I catch movement in my periphery.
A woman turns the corner onto the terrace.
I just see the outline of long, dark curls spilled over her shoulders, a deep red dress that hugs every single curve, and heels that make her legs look endless.
Jesus, she’s gorgeous.
I immediately want to smack myself because what the hell am I doing checking out another woman when?—
Shit.
It’s not another woman. It’s Mya.
My brain stutters. She’s even more beautiful than the last time I saw her, and she’s walking toward our table like she doesn’t quite believe what she’s seeing either.
I flick my gaze to Bri.
She’s watching me over the edge of her water glass, eyes bright, lookingveryproud of herself.