Perfectly Unpredictable Read Free

tie, wore a jaunty hat to one side.
He removed it with a sweep of his hand and a slight bow. “Bonjour, bonjour. Je
m’appelle Pierre. I will be your driver.” He pumped her hand in an enthusiastic
handshake and reached to take her carry-on. “Bienvienue à Nice. Is this all the
luggage you carry?”
    “Oui, Pierre. C’est tout. Merci,” Kalia
said, smiling. Years of travel and one too many incidents with lost luggage convinced
her to travel with only carry-on luggage and a briefcase for her computer.
    “Très bien. Très bien. Right this way.” He
gestured to the exit and moved with a spring in his step.
    It was a bright fall morning. Pierre
chatted easily about the weather and asked about her flight as they made their
way to the car. He opened the door to a black limousine with a flourish and
helped her settle in before gently closing the door and loading her luggage in
the back.
    “Sit back, relax. It is only a short twenty-minute
drive,” he said as he pulled out of the airport.
    Look
at that view. Kalia marveled at the blues and
greens of the water, the white pebble beaches, the swaying palm trees, and a
riot of colorful flowers blooming in window boxes. Pink, orange, and yellow
flowers were brilliant in the sunshine. Casually dressed tourists meandered
along the sidewalk, while others in business attire dodged and weaved, striding
with purpose.
    Kalia opened the window and a cool breeze
brushed her face. A cacophony of noise from people, cars, and scooters rose
from the street.
    The limo pulled up to the hotel. Pierre
jumped out quickly, opened Kalia’s door with a flourish, and retrieved her
luggage. She smiled and thanked him, offered him a generous tip, and made her
way to the hotel.
    Kalia had booked a room at a small, quaint hotel-apartment,
which her parents had discovered on one of their trips to Nice. It was a short
distance from the conference center and off the main road through a small
market.
    The smell of freshly baked pastries wafted
from a bakery on the corner. Colorful umbrellas crowded side by side on the
periphery of the courtyard, shading packed tables of fruit and vegetables,
cheese, and fish on ice. Farmers shouted greetings to the bustle of people. Tourists
idled past. Locals sat at small wrought iron tables on smaller wrought iron
chairs, sipping espresso, and leisurely chatting. They weren’t meant to linger
for too long. Women filled their baskets with fresh baguettes and croissants
and moved from vendor to vendor, haggling with a discerning eye to complete their
daily shopping.
    Kalia wanted to stop and watch, but the
flight was taking its toll. She’d need a day to switch her own time clock and
had twenty-four hours to rest and recharge before her first meeting tomorrow.
    The hotel, a bright pink-red stucco
building, had a window box overflowing with pansies on every sill. Kalia admired
the intricate carving at the front entrance. She pulled open the impressive
wooden door and approached the front desk. After filling out the paperwork, she
was handed a key to an apartment on the second floor.
    The suite opened into a living room. Two
inviting oversized armchairs in pale green and white stripes formed a cozy
seating area across from a more formal ladylike sofa. Light flooded in through
a large window, the shutters thrown open to let in the cool morning air. White
sheers danced in the breeze. Off to the left a galley kitchen looked clean and
bright. A welcome note was propped in front of a tray of snacks –
dried fruit and nuts, sparkling water, a mini bottle of Champagne, and an
“intimacy kit.” Kalia laughed. That covered all the bases.
    She poked her head into the bathroom and
smiled at a large soaker tub, fresh white towels hanging neatly on a heating
rack, and a walk-in glass shower stall with multiple jets and a luxurious rainfall
showerhead.
    Heaven.
    But it’d have to wait. For now, she craved
sleep. She wandered into the bedroom. Plump pillows were piled high on a