“If I had a euro for every stupid thing I've done, I could buy the Mona Lisa.”

“Anna, Anna," Josh interrupts. "If I had a euro for every stupid thing I've done, I could buy the Mona Lisa. You'll be fine.”

“I'm speechless.I think at the rooftops of Paris.he touches my cheek,pulling my gaze back to him.I suck in my breath."Anna.I'm sorry for what happened in Luxembourg Gardens.Not because of the kiss-I've never had a kiss like that in my life-but because I didn't tell you why I was running away.I chased after Meredith because of you."Touch me again. Please,touch me again."All I could think about was what that bastard did to you last Christmas. Toph never tried to explain or apologize. How could I do that to Mer? And I ought to have called you before I went to Ellie's,but I was so anxious to just end it,once and for all,that I wasn't thinking straight."I reach for him. "St. Clair-"He pulls back. "And that.Why don't you call me Etienne anymore?""But...no one else calls you that.It was weird.Right?""No.It wasn't." His expression saddens. "And every time you say 'St. Clair,' it's like you're rejecting me again.""I have never rejected you.""But you have.And for Dave." His tone is venomous."And you rejected me for Ellie on my birthday. I don't understand.If you liked me so much,why didn't you break up with her?"He gazes at the river. "I've been confused. I've been so stupid.""Yes.You have.""I deserve that.""Yes.You do." I pause. "But I've been stupid,too.You were right.About...the alone thing.”

“Here is everything I know about France: Madeline and Amelie and Moulin Rouge. The Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe, although I have no idea what the function of either actually is. Napoleon, Marie Antoinette, and a lot of kings named Louis. I'm not sure what they did either, but I think it has something to do with the French Revolution, which has something to do with Bastille Day. The art museum is called the Louvre and it's shaped like a pyramid and the Mona Lisa lives there along with that statue of the women missing her arms. And there are cafes and bistros or whatever they call them on every street corner. And mimes. The food is supposed to be good, and the people drink a lot of wine and smoke a lot of cigarettes.I've heard they don't like Americans, and they don't like white sneakers.”

“I don't want to feel this way around him. I want things to be normal. I want to be his friend, not another stupid girl holding out for something that will never happen.”

“I grip the edge of a sidewalk cafe table to keep from falling. The diners stare in alarm, but I don't care. I'm reeling, and I gasp for air. How can I have been so stupid? How could I have ever for a moment believed I wasn't in love with him?”

“Emily Zola.That's only the second woman I've seen down here. What's up with that?"But before St. Clair can answer, the grating voice says, "It's Emile." We turn around to find a smug guy in a Euro Disney sweatshirt. "Emile Zola is a man."My face burns. I reach for St. Clair's arm to pull us away again,but St. Clair is already in his face. "Emile Zola was a man," he corrects. "And you're an arse. Why don't you mind your own bloody business and leave her alone!”