Champagne, merci

Carin Sundberg is a fulltime photographer from Sweden currently living in Paris. She's helping her sister plan her perfect wedding when it Carin receives a text not for her. It says her secrets of her sister no one would ever imagine. Meanwhile, the finacé is off drinking champagne with Carin, she can't help but spill. The secret and some champagne.

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1. Chapter One

It wasn't until last fall when my sister dragged me into a wedding shop that I realized my desire for getting married. I looked at all the wedding gowns and beautiful jewelry hanging from the golden boxes. 
"Isn't it just wonderful!" Bethany asked me when we headed out of the shop. 
"Splendid..." I answered. It never occurred to me how much I wanted to be in the fitting rooms, trying on the dress of my dreams and with Beth and drinking expensive champagne and eating different wedding cakes. It sounds a bit cheesy, now that I think about it. Oh well, I don't mind. 

*

I entered the living room with a huge binder with all different types of wedding cakes. "Food is the most important detail to a perfect wedding" Beth stated a couple of weeks ago. "Imagine if the wine was too bitter and the cake too sweet!" Beth exclaimed. 
The living room was huge with marble stone floor, expensive cushions placed more expensive sofas. No doubt Théo was rich. I just hope it's not the only reason my sister is going to marry him. 

I never really thought I would doubt my sister's love to another man. I had only happened once when Beth was dating a total Douchebag, Max. Their relationship lasted three months, and they broke up just before Beth's 21st birthday. This sounds incredibly childish and stupid, and I probably shouldn't tell you this, but my best friend, Maya, and I had a bet  on how long they lasted. 
What? I was a freaking 16-year-old who was single and didn't have a life interesting enough. Beth doesn't know about the bet and you certainly won't tell her. 

Beth nodded silently at the different cake options. There were so many to choose from. If it were me, I would have chosen them all. But it wasn't.
Théo entered the room with a clicking sound of his shoes on the marble floor. 
"Théo!" Beth pulled Théo into an amorous hug. He had just flown in from New York, for one of his business trips. "Bethany mon bien-aimé!" Théo said to Beth. "Carin, good to see you too." He pulled me into a 
more friendly hug. "What are we looking at here?" He asked me. "These are some examples for a wedding cake." I replied. Théo glanced at them quickly and nodded. "They are pretty, but I feel we need some more elegance to the cake." Bethany said. Théo nodded. "We'll talk about this later. Carin if you don't mind, I'll be taking Bethany out to lunch." he said. "Not at all. I have to edit some photos for Dior anyway. You two have a good time." I answered. Beth smiled at me and took Théo's hand and started walking to the front door. "Oh and Carin? Try finding some other cakes." "Huh..." I muttered under my breath. 

Don't get me wrong, I love helping my sister out with the wedding and stuff, but it can be very tiring. Bethany thinks that because she doesn't have work, (and she doesn't due to Théo) I don't either. But I do and I love my job. I am a full-time photographer for big fashion companies such as Dior, Chanel, and Prada. And not to mention, I run an Instagram account with over 500,000 followers! 

I stepped out into the cold Parisian street holding the umbrella just over my head. I was walking in silence and walked into a small barista on the corner of my street. As I entered the fresh smell of baked goods and a strong scent of coffee reached my nostrils. 
"Un grande cafe, merci." The girl behind the counter smiled. She was new, I could tell, I hadn't seen her before unlike the regular baristas. She was small, petite, her hair was brown in a pixie cut. Her glasses kept sliding down her nose, and she kept pushing them up again with her long fingers. "Can I write a name down?" She asked. "Oh, Anglais? I mean English? Uh, Carin." The girl was obviously English, or she could hear that I wasn't French. I mean, my English could hardly be better than my French. I was from Sweden. I took several courses in both French and English in my time studying in Paris. The girl handed me my coffee and I sat down by the window. 

Every afternoon I would sit at this very spot at precise three o'clock staring at all the interesting Parisians walking past the café. As time went by, I could recognize the cafés, usual customers. I would sit and judge them. OMG, would you look at those shoes? Can you even walk in them? I thought to myself when I saw a blonde girl exiting a taxi with a Chanel bag in her left hand and her phone in her right. She was probably wearing some ridiculous expensive perfume as well. But the shoes? C'mon, they were ugly. They were baby pink with bows filled with gems and such with glitter and feathers. If this were last year, I would sit at this very café with Beth. But when Théo came along, Beth would be with him and I would sit here alone gossiping to myself. God, I was lonely. I was desperate need of friends. Of course, I still had Maya. But she was all the way over in America now. And neither of us really had the money to visit each other that often. Maya had visited me a couple of weeks ago. It felt like years ago. The girl with the pixie cut came to my table and cleared my cup. I picked up my bag and left the café. 

Let me give you one piece of advice if you're ever moving Paris. Don't convince yourself you can get used to the many flights of stairs to your apartment. I live on the 5th floor, the top, and I remembering saying "The stairs? They're not a problem at all. I'll get used to them eventually." No. I didn't. They are my worst nightmare. Even Théo comments on them every time he visits. And he works out at the gym often. 

I dragged my legs to the last flight of stairs. I opened my bag to get my keys. A rush of panic was starting. My hands were everywhere, in my bag and my pockets. I turned my bag upside down and everything from lipstick, my wallet, a pen, tissues, and chewing gum was falling onto the floor. I took my phone and dialed Beth. I knew she would have an extra set of keys. 

 

 

 

 

 

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