Breaking Point (Drew Ashley 1) (15 page)

"Why Paris, though?" Jazz asked.

"He wants full days of tourism. We're going to watch Arsenal against Chelsea in the evening, but I had nothing planned for during the day."

"You're going to watch the derby with Harvey?"

"Yeah."

"You think that's a good idea?"

"I don't care. I've found you a flight ticket."

"Great. I'm sleeping over for a few days, by the way."

"I gathered that."

The next morning, Harvey arrived at eight, as I'd instructed. He looked pleased to see Jazz. Most guys would be pleased to see her today in her very girly yellow dress, and a yellow flower in her hair. I wondered why I'd worn my football jersey. I should have just packed it in my bag.

"Harvey!" Jazz tweeted, hugging him.

For some reason, the sight of Harvey sweeping Jazz into his arms set my teeth on edge. She giggled as she stepped back after the hug. "That's a lovely fragrance you're wearing, Harvey."

"Thanks, I've been wearing it all week. Drew didn't notice."

I did, but I wasn't paying him any compliments of that nature. I walked over to his car.

"Wow. Is that yours?" Jazz asked.

Harvey nodded, unlocking the doors.

Jazz looked at her little Citroen. "I've never driven a car this big."

Harvey tossed her the keys. "Be my guest."

The blood drained from Jazz's face. "No way! I couldn't."

"You can. Just drive a few blocks and if you're not comfortable, I'll take over."

So that's how I found myself tossed into the backseat, while Jazz and Harvey sat in the front, now seemingly oblivious to my presence.

Jazz drove us to Heathrow Airport, then got out and let Harvey park the car. She didn't want to risk running into another car.

"What are we doing at the airport?" Harvey asked, getting out of the car, when he finished.

Jazz winked. "It's a surprise."

I gave out tickets and Harvey immediately opened his to see our destination. "
Paree
?"

I frowned. "Paris."

"The French call it
Paree
."

"Whatever." I started walking towards the airport. There was no time for arguing about pronunciation. We had a flight to catch.

Harvey grabbed my arm and pulled me back. "You didn't have to do this."

"It's no biggie," I replied stiffly, wishing he'd get his hand off me. "Come on! We need to get in there."

Luckily, Harvey traded seats with Jazz so that Jazz and I could sit together. When I went to the toilet during the flight, I noticed that he was talking to the woman beside him. I gave her a quick once over and gritted my teeth.

Why do I care?
I asked myself, as the cute little French-looking woman tossed her raven black hair while she spoke and it fanned over Harvey's bare shoulder.

When we got to Paris, she checked out with us, talking in a sweet French accent and batting thick lashes, mincing alongside Harvey in her tight black shift dress.

"Retract your claws," Jazz whispered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied.

When we got outside, Nynette, as the French chick had told us her name was, hesitated before leaving. She curved her glossy lips in a smile at Harvey. An 'aren't you going to ask for my number' smile. I was glad to see that she had lipstick on her teeth.

"You're pathetic," Jazz muttered under her breath when she saw my smirk.

I was pathetic. No doubt about it. But I couldn't help it.

"It's been nice talking to you," Harvey told her politely.

Nynette nodded. "And you too, Harvee," she said rolling the 'r.'

Harvey took a little step back. "Have a great day."

Nynette waggled her fingers at Jazz and me, then tottered away to the car park. I was glad to see the back of her.

Harvey grinned at me and Jazz. "We're in Paris, one of the most romantic places on earth. Watch out for cupids."

"You must get that all the time," Jazz said, leading the way to the taxi stand.

"Get what?" Harvey asked. He opened a taxi door for us and I slid in first. I thought he'd sit in the front, but he squashed into the back seat with us. I was glad I'd entered first. I'd hate to be crushed up against him like Jazz was.

"Women like Nynette, trying to get your attention," Jazz said, as I asked the driver to take us to the Eiffel Tower.

I looked at Harvey to see what his cocky expression would look like, anticipating how much of a turn off it'd be. I was disappointed. His face was blank.

"Was she trying to get my attention?"

"You didn't notice?" Jazz asked.

"No." Harvey looked amused. "Are you sure? What did she do?"

"Everything women do when they like the look of a man."

"Really? Like what?" he asked, puzzled.

"The eyes, the laugh, playing with her hair, waiting before she left so that you could ask for her number."

"You're just kidding me," Harvey said dismissively.

"Am I kidding him, Drew?"

"Nope," I said.

"She liked you," Jazz insisted. "So, that doesn't happen to you all the time?"

Harvey smiled self-deprecatingly. "If it did, I wouldn't be single."

"I cannot believe a man like you is single," Jazz said. "You're gorgeous."

I was shocked. I wished Destiny was here to tell her off.

Harvey ruffled Jazz's curls like she was a little girl. "Back atcha, Jazz."

I turned to the window. I didn't for one moment believe this clueless act that Harvey was putting up. He had to know he was gorgeous, and if he didn't know it, then I was going to kill Jazz later for telling him!

***

Our tour of the Eiffel Tower didn't take as long as I expected. Travis had brought me here when he first signed with Chelsea, as a celebration, and we'd stayed almost two hours. But then, we'd thought we were in love, and Travis' first paycheck had come through so we'd been on top of the world, intoxicated by the heady combination of romance and wealth. Today, we were done in half an hour.

Jazz took a picture of Harvey while he looked through the Eiffel Tower telescope. She was on camera duty, and she was wearing his camera around her neck.

"What's up?" she asked me.

"Just remembering when I came here…the last time."

Jazz nodded, guessing that it must have been with Travis.

Harvey turned around, looking at his watch. "I don't know about ya'll, but I'm starving."

"We're going to the Le 58 Tour Eiffel," I told him.

Harvey repeated the restaurant name in more authentic French. "Your French accent is terrible, Drew."

"I know. I'm British, not French."

"Well, I'm American, and I'm making an effort."

"Cut it out, guys," Jazz ordered. "Good grief! How did you tour together for two days without killing each other?"

A few minutes later, we were seated beside a window in the restaurant, poring over drink menus. It was translated so that was good.

"
Je ne pas, Francais
," Jazz told the waiter who came to take our drink order.

"That's fine," he responded in a northern British accent that reminded me of Kale. "What can I get you?"

Harvey ordered from the wine list in what sounded like perfect French. The waiter made a note in his pad.

Harvey handed him the wine list back. "I take it you're both teetotal?" he asked me and Jazz.

"Yes, Diet Coke for me," Jazz told the waiter.

"Water," I said.

Jazz grinned at Harvey after the waiter left us. "Look at you, being all French. Where'd you learn it?"

"I lived here for a year after high school. Before I went to college."

"So you're fluent?"

"Not as fluent as I used to be. If you don't use it you lose it." Harvey leaned back in his seat, his eyes scanning a food menu now.

I picked up a food menu too. "If I'd known you'd lived in France for a year, I wouldn't have brought you here today. You should have said something." No wonder our Eiffel Tower tour had been quick. He wasn't interested.

"I'm still enjoying it," Harvey told me. "You've been great, Drew. This tour is really surpassing my expectations."

"She's taking you to watch a football match tonight," Jazz said. "Arsenal against Chelsea."

Harvey flashed me his devastating smile. "You've got it all covered, haven't you? How come you haven't made me pay for anything?"

"I'll send you your bill at the end of the week."

"I'll expect it. But you're a student. How are you affording to do all this?"

I grinned. "You ask too many questions, Harvey."

"Is it a secret source of wealth?" he asked. "Something illegal, perhaps?"

"Drew used to go out with Travis Haywood," Jazz told him. "You've probably never heard of him, he's a footballer for Chelsea—"

"Will he be playing tonight?" Harvey asked.

"Yeah," Jazz said.

"Do people know they were together and that they've broken up?"

"It was in the papers. Everyone knows it was because she didn't want to have sex outside marriage anymore."

Harvey's eyebrows shot up.

"Thanks, Jazz," I said sarcastically.

Harvey put down his menu. "I cannot believe you're dragging me into this."

"I'm not. You don't have to come. I support Arsenal and this is their last match of the season so I was going to go to the match, anyway. I thought it'd be a nice opportunity for you to attend one."

"Okay, let me get this straight," Harvey said. "As if it's not bad enough that you're going to the match to support the team that is playing against your ex's team, you're taking another man with you."

"That's right," Jazz said. "The whole country will think she's bagged another man and is trying to rub it in Travis' face." She smiled deviously. "I love it."

"That's not what I'm doing," I said. "And anyway, I'm past caring what people think about me."

"So you're famous," Harvey said. "Why didn't you tell me? I didn't know I've been hanging out with a celebrity."

"I'm not famous," I retorted. "No one was really interested in me until Travis dumped me in public."

I still couldn't believe Travis had dumped me like that. He'd been wearing a shirt under his Chelsea jersey that said
Drew, it's over.
And silly me, he scored a goal, and I was in the crowd cheering, when he removed his shirt to reveal what he had on underneath. Every TV camera at the stadium had zoomed in on him and then on my face. It didn't hurt me. It angered me. He'd had a good, and might I say well-deserved, whipping about it from the media. But then so had I.

Jazz launched into every embarrassing detail of my public humiliation. I couldn't believe she was telling Harvey.

To his credit, Harvey looked suitably aghast. "What! Are you kidding?" he asked, his eyes shifting from Jazz to me. "What a jerk!"

Ah, I liked that word.
Jerk.
I'd have to add it to my vocabulary. That's exactly what Travis was.

Harvey's eyes were still on me. "Shall I hold you tonight, like I can't get enough of you?"

I blinked.

"Yes," Jazz said. "You need to act like you really love her. Travis is engaged to someone else now, so he needs to see that Drew has moved on and doesn't need him."

"Cool," he told Jazz, getting into it. "Maybe I'll give her the occasional kiss."

"No, please don't," I said dryly.

A waiter brought our drinks over. Harvey took a swig of whatever alcoholic beverage he'd ordered and swished it around his mouth like it was exquisite. "I've been hurt, too," he said. "I know how it is."

"Great," I said, nudging Jazz. "One sip of wine and he tells us his life story."

Jazz's eyes filled with this scary compassion. "What happened?" she asked him.

Harvey set his drink down. "Something I'll probably never forget. She preferred my best friend."

"She's a fool," Jazz said.

Harvey lifted a shoulder casually. "It doesn't matter. It was a long time ago."

Jazz sipped her Coke. "So you're really single?" she asked Harvey.

"Yeah."

"Well, maybe you can be my date for my ball on Friday," she offered. "If you're not already doing something."

I was shocked. Jazz was way out of order now. "I thought I was your date," I reminded her.

She screwed up her nose. "I'd prefer a man."

"I'd be happy to take you to your ball," Harvey said.

Jazz looked delighted. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm free on Friday night."

"Thanks, Harvey," Jazz said with a girlish smile. "I'm going to be on the arm of the best-looking man in the room."