“I didn’t bring any books,” he explained. “And sitting in a café for three whole hours might be lonely.” He ran his fingers through his hair, a move that was breaking her down. “What do you say?”

Mira bit her lip. She wasn’t convinced about Jake’s fear of loneliness, nor was spending time with him any part of her Paris bucket list. Still, she liked the idea of having the upper hand and potentially making him beg, an unhealthy urge she would have to examine later. “You need some company, eh? I see, I see.”

The innocent boyish expression returned. “And maybe after, you wouldn’t mind coming back with me to open up the room so I can get all my stuff?” He gestured to his bags. “If it wouldn’t be too inconvenient?”

She frowned. “Why don’t you just leave your stuff with the concierge?”

“That guy? I’m not trusting him with my laptop.”

She considered his plight. “You’re right; Shirley would kill you if you lost it.”

“Are we good then?” He conjured up a dazzling smile. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

She sneered. “Gross.”

“I meant with my charm.”

She sighed. “I don’t know . . .”

“Please?”

Maybe she’d tortured him enough. “Sure, fine.”

“Thank you!” He held out his arms. “Hug?”

Her eyes zeroed in on the sweat stains clearly visible through his shirt. “Nah, I’m good.” She grabbed her carry-on and dragged it to the bathroom. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a quick shower.”

“Of course, of course,” he said beaming. “Whatever the lady wishes.”

She studied his face. “I can really see how you bagged that waitress.”

His mouth dropped open, just as she’d hoped. Maybe a few of hours with Jake wouldn’t be so bad.

Mira turned back to face the sliding bathroom door, its composition little more than a plywood-like panel. Weird. A small brass ring was the only door handle in sight, and when she gave it a tug, the panel slid back, revealing a tiny, mildew-encrusted setting. Inside, there was no visible barrier between the shower and the toilet, just the fleeting hope that water wouldn’t wind up everywhere.

She wheeled her carry-on back out into the room. “Sure as hell not putting this in there.”

Jake snuck a peek into the bathroom. “That bad?”

“That bad.”

She unzipped the various pockets, pulling out whatever she needed. Finally, with an armful of items, she returned to the bathroom and slid the wooden panel shut. “Remind me to spend as little time in here as possible,” she called out.

“Easy on the yelling,” he said, in a voice that was perfectly audible from the other side of the panel. “I can hear you like you’re standing right beside me.”

“What?!” she whispered in a sudden panic. She glanced at the toilet and then back at the wooden panel. “You have got to be kidding me,” she added, forgetting to whisper this time.