French name, English accent, American school. Anna confused.

I mean, really. Who sends their kid to boarding school? It's so Hogwarts. Only mine doesn't have cute boy wizards or magic candy or flying lessons.

Soap?""School of America in Paris" he explains. "SOAP".Nice. My father sent me here to be cleansed.

The only French word I know is oui, which means “yes,” and only recently did I learn it’s spelled o-​u-​i and not w-​e-​e.

St. Clair clears his throat. 'My fiancée and I are headed out for a celebratory dessert. I'd ask you all to join us, but I don't want you there.

I'm sorry," he says."What? Why?""You're fixing everything I set down." He nods at my hands, which are readjusting the elephant. "It wasn't polite of me to come in and start touching your things.""Oh, it's okay," I say quickly, letting go of the figurine. "You can touch anything of mine you want."He freezes. A funny look runs across his face before I realize what I've said. I didn't mean it like that.Not that that would be so bad.

What...what about when I'm married?”“We'll buy a cot. Your husband can sleep on that when he visits.

Har. Bloody. Har.

Closed. Plenty of time to see it later, remember?" He leads me into the courtyard, and I take the opportunity to admire his backside. Callipygian. There is something better than Notre-Dame.