The Summer of Him: A Summer Fling Romance (Summer Heat Book 1) by Stacy Travis

Author:Stacy Travis [Travis, Stacy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fast Turtle Press
Published: 2020-06-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

The Old City, Antibes

I couldn’t go into the Old Town without venturing to the Picasso Museum. After seeing the art at the Musée d’Orsay, my expectations were high.

“You know, there’s an incredible Picasso museum in Paris. It was redone a few years ago, and it’s in this really cool hotel particulier,” Chris said.

“In English, señor, por favor.”

“A mansion, basically. Built for a guy who made his money collecting taxes on salt.”

“Like, table salt?”

“Yeah, you know, back in the 1600s when salt was worth more than gold.”

He’d done his homework. I remembered the salt tax from a class I took in college, but back then, the words I’d read in my textbooks had felt far removed from reality. Seeing the places where history unfolded, where the Romans built aqueducts and tax collectors built mansions, brought the events to life as if someone had just painted colors on my black-and-white textbook world.

“Got it,” I said. “Well, if you’ve noticed, I’m no longer in Paris. So it’s gonna have to be this Picasso Museum.”

“I’m game,” he said, starting to walk in the direction of the museum. I stopped walking, and he turned around. “What’s up?”

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?”

He shrugged. “A couple times.”

“So, like, what—five or six?”

“I have no idea. Does it matter?”

“Well, kind of. I don’t want to drag you someplace you’ve been a million times.”

“You’re not dragging me. Will you stop?”

“Stop what?” I asked.

“Worrying about everything. If I don’t want to do something, I’ll tell you. Okay? But only if you promise to do the same.”

I studied him to discern whether he wanted to go to the museum again or not. I couldn’t tell. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him, walking backward in the direction of the museum, leading me like a small unwilling child he had to walk into her first day of school.

“Okay, I promise,” I said, picking up the pace. I really did want to see whatever works of art this Picasso museum had on its walls. I anticipated the same joy I’d felt in front of all those impressionist pieces. Picasso did not disappoint. Neither did Chris.

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