After the last of the plates had been cleared, Mira emerged from the restroom to discover all her coworkers had left. All except for Jake, who was canoodling with the waitress by the bar.

They ditched me, Mira thought to herself.

The woman who co-owned the restaurant noticed Mira standing frozen in place.

“Mademoiselle?” she said softly. Mira turned and acknowledged her with a nod, her face slightly stunned. “Your colleagues mentioned they had to leave for an early flight.”

“Oh.”

“Everything is paid for, so you may continue to enjoy the evening with your colleague.”

The woman gestured to Jake, but from the look on her face, she knew as well as Mira that there wasn’t much fun to be had in the land of third-wheel awkwardness.

“Thanks,” Mira said, “but I actually need to head out, too.” She adjusted her blazer. “Big morning ahead.”

As Mira made her way to the exit, she inadvertently made eye contact with the hot bartender, he of tousled dark hair and tanned skin. He looked like he belonged on a beach in Saint-Tropez, and as a result she started to imagine him shirtless. Maybe pants-less too.

The bartender responded by treating Mira to the sort of smoldering stare she’d previously only read about in books or seen in movies. “Care to join us for last call?” he offered, his voice the auditory version of silky fondue.

Mira looked from the bartender’s handsome face to Jake, who was busy putting the moves on the waitress. After making a quick internal calculation, she concluded that the ego-boosting benefit of being hit on by a hot French bartender did not outweigh the cost of being annoyed by the very life force that was Jake.

She politely shook her head and left the restaurant.

Once outside, Mira took a moment to revel in the warm summer air. As the night breeze danced across her face, she realized something equally as important as her cost-versus-benefit math: was she even in the right emotional state to be flirting with a man right now?

Not even close.

#

Later that night, back in her quaint hotel room, Mira laid out some clothing options for the next morning.

She had already planned to use her extra hours in Paris to wake up early, take an inspirational stroll by the river, and then enjoy a breakfast at one of the places on her bucket list. She felt a nervous twinge at the thought of officially cracking open the list. Each bullet point was laced with high expectations, but it was either that, or wake up late and order room service, which just seemed wrong in a city as beautiful as Paris.

She did her best to calm the nervous feeling by focusing on her outfit; the strolling portion of the morning meant that functionality was key, but the neighborhood of the breakfast spot required something more high-end. She pushed her more practical pieces to the side and zeroed in on anything approaching fashionable.