Sneak Peek!

Dreaming of Paris

Chapter One

Jenna

Jenna Westbrook cracked open the window of her office and drew in a long breath of city air. The chill of a late-afternoon wind felt like a disheartening slap on the cheek. She crossed her arms and let out a heavy sigh, observing the bare branches with a scornful glare. She yearned for spring. For a patch of sunlight to emerge from the cool shadows. Instead, the cold that lingered, harsh echoes of the same old season, only served as a cruel reminder of the freeze that had developed in her heart over the past six months.

She pulled the window closed and smoothed out her skirt, preparing to greet some of her favorite clients. She glanced down at her watch and lifted an eyebrow. It wasn’t like Paul and Heather Fowler to be late for their monthly counseling sessions. She sat at her desk and sorted through paperwork while she waited.

The door to her office swung open and her secretary, Blair, popped her head inside.

“The Fowlers called,” Blair said. “They won’t be coming in after all.” It looked as if she wanted to say more, but was unsure whether she should.

“They canceled?” Jenna narrowed her eyes and lowered her chin, urging Blair to continue.

“They said they’ve decided to discontinue their sessions entirely.”

Jenna’s eyes flew open. “Why?”

Blair softly shook her head. “They didn’t say much. Just that they were no longer seeing the progress they had when they first started therapy.” She paused, pressing her lips together. “They’ve decided to split up.”

“No.” Jenna’s hand flew to her mouth. “Why?” she repeated, knowing she wouldn’t get an answer, or at least one that would explain anything sufficiently.

Blair only shrugged.

Jenna grabbed the sides of her head and squeezed her eyes shut. She scowled at her desk, shaking her head in disbelief. Not the Fowlers too. They couldn’t give up. Not after all the work they’d put into their relationship.

“I’m sorry,” Blair said, chewing on a perfectly polished fingernail.

Jenna stared outside, wondering if Blair was thinking the same thing she was. A moment of silence filled the air as Jenna raked her hands through her long waves. Finally, she said what her secretary wouldn’t. “It’s me.”

“No, don’t say that,” Blair replied immediately, and with a little too much eagerness to sound completely sincere.

“Blair, this is the fifth couple I’ve lost this month, not to mention countless others over the past six months since, well, you know.” She tapped her fingernails against the table.

Blair opened her mouth, then closed it. “It’s a coincidence,” she said finally.

Jenna bit down on her lip to still the quiver that had formed. If only that were true. If only everything hadn’t changed the instant she’d heard the words, I can’t marry you anymore.

If only her own love story hadn’t ended in a way that she couldn’t make any sense of, despite the work she’d put into it. If only she had a therapist, a competent one, to help pull out the reasons she knew were buried somewhere deep in her brain, to uncover the meaning behind it all. A master’s degree in psychology, years of experience as a relationship counselor, and one hundred eighty days of constantly analyzing what went wrong, and she still couldn’t figure out the missing piece. The one unanswerable question: Why?

Jenna blew out a breath, resigning herself to the awareness that her work week was over, now that the Fowlers—her last appointment of the day—wouldn’t be coming in. She felt her chest tighten as she remembered what lay in store for the weekend ahead. She reached into the leather handbag stuffed under her desk and pulled out her phone. She opened her email and held a clenched fist against her chin, squeezing her eyes shut as the pain in her forehead increased. Staring back at her was her flight itinerary, and it felt like another harsh slap in the face.

Paris.

Jenna let out a huff of annoyance and considered faking an illness to get out of the whole thing. She knew her sister hadn’t planned a destination wedding in the most romantic city on Earth to spite her. Still, it felt like fate’s cruel twist of the knife.

Jenna dropped her phone on her desk. She reached over and grabbed her stapler, squeezing it tight to secure the Fowlers’ notes. It instantly jammed. Pulling it open, she tried to dislodge the tiny metal sliver responsible for the disturbance, but it wouldn’t budge. She pulled at it, fingertips slipping around it, her frustration building by the second. She stared at the staple, unable to figure out how something so tiny could completely destroy a plan, even one as simple as attaching two documents to each other.

Jenna’s eyes narrowed as she studied the stapler. The brand name, printed elegantly in refined cursive letters, stared back, taunting her. Like the gorgeous calligraphy on a wedding invitation. Before she could stop herself, she’d lifted the stapler over her head and hurled it across the office in a fit of rage. It hit the wall with a sharp click, and a chunk of plaster fell to the ground beside it. In her years of counseling sessions with arguing couples, she’d seen her share of objects thrown in anger. But never by her.

Blair’s eyes widened with concern as she stared at the floor and the broken pieces of stapler. She pressed a palm against her cheek in shock.

Jenna played it off with a nervous laugh, hoping she appeared more under control than she felt. “Slipped right out of my hand,” she said, hurrying across the office and dropping to her hands and knees to gather up the pieces.

Blair rushed over to help.

Jenna tossed the remains in the trash, then shook out her hands and wiped them against her skirt, erasing any evidence of the messy incident. She gave Blair a nod, brushing it off with a professional grin. Sure, Jenna had been on edge a little more than usual lately, but that was to be expected given the circumstances. Besides, that stapler had it coming. What was she supposed to do when it simply stopped working, with no explanation, and no warning, whatsoever? Everyone had their limits, and she had clearly reached hers. Maybe it wasn’t her finest professional moment, but even so, it was only a stapler against a wall. With what she’d been dealing with in her personal life, she’d felt capable of much worse.

She took in a cleansing breath, trying to erase the uncharacteristic anger and replace it with calm professionalism. “Well, that’s too bad about the Fowlers,” she said in the most tranquil voice she could manage as she sat down. She motioned for Blair to sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk.

Blair Miller, fresh-faced and dependable, had been Jenna’s valued secretary for four years, ever since Jenna had opened her practice. She was an expert at organizing Jenna’s schedule and always seemed to anticipate her needs with perfect timing. Blair sat down and waited, studying Jenna’s expression.

“So, what did they say, exactly?” Jenna pulled out the spiral-bound planner she kept in her desk drawer, the one that held all her appointments. She folded her arms and leaned forward over her desk, waiting for an explanation.

“They said they feel like they’ve hit a wall.” Blair winced. “Sorry, bad choice of words.”

Jenna gave her a wry smile. After nearly two years of meeting with them, Jenna knew the Fowlers were both unwavering in their commitment to counseling, and to each other. As a relationship therapist, Jenna adored many of the couples she worked with, and could usually tell right off the bat which ones would ride out the storm, and which would drift apart. The Fowlers fell under the former. They did everything right. They showed up each month, prepared and eager. They always completed the exercises Jenna gave them to work on and never missed an opportunity to read one of her book suggestions. But it was more than that. There was something special about their relationship—something she couldn’t quite put into words.

Either way, Jenna had had no doubt they were in it for the long haul. It was simply that, like with so many of her clients, they’d had some challenges thrown in their path over the past couple years—a job loss, a sick parent, a stressful schedule trying to juggle it all. It was only natural the struggles of daily life trickled into their relationships, leaving these committed and loving couples feeling discouraged and, at times, hopeless. For a concept that seemed so ideal on the surface, love was far from perfect. People, and all their emotions, were to blame. Yes, despite the best intentions, life—and love—had a tendency to get messy.

That’s where Jenna came in. With a license in clinical counseling, an empathetic ear, and a voice of reason, Jenna’s job was to get her clients back on track and help them recover that feeling of hope in their unique love story and, ultimately, turn it into a happy ending.

That was the idea anyway. In reality, she wasn’t sure what she was doing anymore. The questions that still plagued her, after months of introspection and countless hours of self-analysis, haunted every session. And she now found herself far from qualified to counsel couples in the one area she was apparently totally ignorant in herself—love.

Jenna rotated her chair and took in the sight outside the window. She rubbed her temples. “They just needed to be patient. Take some more time to work through things. Not let their current feelings decide their entire future.”

Jenna didn’t trust that emotionally driven kind of love. The kind that was all about butterflies, and feelings, and fleeting moods. No, Jenna’s job was to get her clients to move beyond the disillusionment that came when the romance faded and get them to see the value of transitioning into a more mature type of love. One that would endure the hard stuff throughout the years. “Love is not a feeling, it’s an action,” she would routinely tell her clients. Sure, romantic notions may be fun, but Jenna knew that a mutual commitment to working hard was the only thing that would allow a relationship to survive.

“So are you all set for your trip?” Blair asked, eager to change the subject. She stood from her chair and leaned over Jenna’s desk to grab a stack of papers, sifting through them. “It’s a long way to go for one weekend. You sure you don’t want to stay longer? I could rearrange your schedule for next week if you want me to.”

Jenna pretended not to pick up on the subtext behind the offer. Of course Blair could easily rearrange Jenna’s schedule when her clients were dropping like flies. If things continued at this rate, Jenna would have to close the private practice she’d worked so hard to build. Her business would be another dream down the tube. Another “L” to add to her increasingly dismal scoreboard of life.

Jenna uncrossed her legs and pulled herself from her chair to begin packing her things for the weekend. “Yes, I’m sure. If I’m forced to attend this ostentatious display of love, at the very least, I want to get out of there as fast as possible.” She slung her laptop bag over her shoulder, then gave Blair an apologetic smile. She knew she was being unreasonable and, frankly, acting like a brat.

Her little sister had found her prince and was now savoring her fairytale by getting married in the same city where they’d met during a semester abroad in college. She should be happy for her sister. She was happy for her. Still, it didn’t help that Jenna’s dream had been instantly and cruelly crushed into oblivion without a second’s notice. It was just another reminder that she wouldn’t be getting the result she worked so hard to provide for her clients. That happy ending that was pulled away from her so suddenly, and so inexplicably, at the last minute.

And it certainly didn’t help that her mom had been on her case since Luke had left, demanding to know what really happened between them. Sure, her parents had lost some money due to the last-minute cancellation of the two-hundred-guest wedding they had generously offered to help pay for. But with Jenna and Luke having funded the majority, Jenna didn’t feel her parents were entitled to more information than she’d already given them. Not that she had any more to give.

She waved a hand over her face as if to reset her attitude. “It’ll be fine, Blair. I’ll show up for the wedding tomorrow night, be happy for my sister, and then fly back home on Sunday. Quick and easy.” She gave a sarcastic smile. “Just in time to be back by Monday to pretend I know how to help people sort out their relationship issues when, really, I don’t have a clue what I’m doing anymore.” She dropped her chin to her chest and rubbed an eyebrow. “Maybe I’ll use the long flights to go over my psychology 101 notes and try to figure out how to be a therapist,” she said, only half joking.

Blair tentatively moved in closer, offering a sympathetic grin. “Jenna, this isn’t like you. You’ve always been so confident in your job, so positive about life. So hopeful about your clients. I’m worried about you.”

Jenna released a long stream of air. “I know.” She shook out her hands again. “It’s this wedding. It all feels like a giant punch in the gut.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

“Do you know how embarrassing it’s going to be to show up in front of my entire family and their friends right now? Alone? Me, an expert in counseling couples on how to work on their relationships, couldn’t even manage to hold onto my own.”

“Jenna, I’m sure they aren’t thinking that. I’m sure they know what happened with Luke wasn’t your fault.”

Jenna let out an aggressive chuckle. “Tell that to my mother. She’s been hounding me for answers for months now. She claims she’s only worried about me, but I know my mom. Worrying leads to prying, which leads to judgment, which leads to me questioning all my life choices.” She glanced down at her phone and opened her text messages. Ironically, but not surprisingly, the most recent one was from her mom.

Hey honey, we landed in Paris. Call me when you get here and we’ll make sure someone meets you at the airport, so you won’t be all alone. Look forward to talking more. Love you.

All alone. Jenna pinched her forehead as she realized something she should have much sooner. “I can’t do this.”

“What?” Blair’s eyebrows pulled down in concern.

She looked Blair in the eyes, shaking her head with wide-eyed desperation. “I can’t endure everyone’s judgment. The poor clueless sap, left at the altar. The incompetent failure of a therapist.” Her eyes darted around the room as the problem became more obvious. “No, I have to get my act together, and quick.”

“Your act?”

“Yes. I have to act like my life is under control, like I’ve never been happier, and my practice is a thriving success.”

“You are successful,” Blair said in a soothing voice, sounding more like the therapist in the room. “And your life is under control.”

Jenna ignored her, stabbing a finger at the air in front of her. “And so is my love life.”

Blair gave her an amused smile. “What?”

“I don’t know,” Jenna said, eyes squeezed shut as her thoughts swirled around.

Her phone buzzed to deliver another text message. She held her breath as she glanced down, her shoulders relaxing to see that it was only her next-door neighbor, wanting to stop by to grab his mail. She quickly replied to let him know she’d be home soon, then shifted her focus back to the problem at hand.

If only she had a date for the wedding. Better yet, a new boyfriend. One who was crazy about her and would show everyone what an idiot Luke must have been to let her go. How could she organize that now, though? The wedding was tomorrow—on another continent. Her flight left in four hours. Her airfare had cost a fortune, and there was no way she could afford another ticket to Paris, especially last minute. Not to mention the minor detail that she had absolutely nobody who could fill in as said date. She hadn’t been out with anyone since Luke.

Another text came in from her neighbor, saying he’d stop by in an hour. She gave it a thumbs up and quickly swiped it away.

All she knew was that the only thing worse than not showing up for her sister’s wedding would be showing up alone. It would open the door for questions—ones she didn’t want to answer. Ones she still had no idea how to answer.

She grabbed her pale-pink trench from the coat rack and draped it over her arm. Then she leaned back against her desk and puckered her lips in thought. Jenna stared down at her phone, hoping a solution would be revealed. Until suddenly, it was. She tapped at the screen and re-opened the message from her neighbor. She studied it, and a glimmer of an idea began to form. A smile crept over her face. Her posture immediately perked up and she pushed herself off the desk.

“Blair, I’ve gotta run. I have something I need to do before my flight leaves tonight.”

“What’s that?”

“Get a boyfriend,” she said, as she dashed out of the office.

Yes, it was time for her to move on, or at least to convince everyone else that she had. Six months of winter had been long enough. It was time to shake off the frost and pretend spring had arrived.