We meet him in the center of the lobby. He already has the key to the room. There are times I very much appreciate being rich. And a celebrity. This is one of those times. The hotel staff has already checked me in. I give a thankful nod to the people behind the desk.

“What about our clothes?” Emily says, keeping her voice low. The driver leads us across the lobby to the elevators and presses the call button.

“Upstairs in the suite.”

“When did you have time to do all this?”

“It was only a couple of text messages.” When you were sleeping on my shoulder, I want to tell her. I texted them with one hand. It took goddamn forever to type that way, but I didn’t want to have to push you away. It felt too good to hold you.

“Thank you,” Emily says as the elevator rises. “It’s been a long day.”

For her, it’s been more than a long day. It’s been a series of long months.

And all this—the trip to Paris, the fancy hotel—it’s not because I want Emily Rochester to be with me. It’s not because I’ve fallen in love with her or something ridiculous like that. It’s because she deserves good things to happen to her.

Good things like a nice hotel. Like a few minutes in a Disney store without anyone watching her. A few hours to have fun without worrying about something.

My driver waves the key card over the lock and the door clicks open. We step into a generously sized living area. It’s not huge by American standards, but it’s a good size for the middle of Paris. They’ve taken special care with the antique furniture. It might be smaller than some of the gargantuan presidential suites I’ve stayed in, but it’s beautiful.

“There are two bedrooms.” I put my hand on Paige’s back to keep her in place while I talk to Emily. I make sure my voice is casual. I want her to know I don’t expect anything from her, despite the fact that we’re in a hotel together.

“I’ll sleep with Paige,” Emily says, her tone cautious.

“Which one do you want?”

She points to one. I hold Paige while Emily opens her rolling suitcase and takes out a pair of pjs. Paige barely wakes up while Emily whisks her out of her clothes and into the pajamas. Then Emily takes her daughter in her arms and tucks her under the covers.

“You need anything?” I ask her, my voice low.

“No,” she says with a small, sad smile. “You’ve done more than enough, Mateo. This place is gorgeous. This entire trip has been a dream.”