And if this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up.
CHAPTER 1
SAMANTHA
Get a hold of yourself.
You’re a grown ass woman for Pete’s sake.
Every time I received a text from the Anderson boys my heart pumped like I was a giddy little school girl all over again.
Luke: How’s Paris treating you?
Logan: Hey, if any French dude gets funny you tell em I’ve got my eyes on them and I’m not afraid to lay some red, white and blue whip-ass.
Liam: Language. We’re in the presence of a lady.
The Anderson brothers had been my best friend’s brothers since I was in junior high. I would refer them as the “terrible four,” mostly because they were four boys, and all of them were liable to get into one form of trouble or another.
I had the biggest crush on them growing up.
Since they were older than me and I never felt comfortable crossing the lines of friendship, I mostly enjoyed the company of the Anderson boys as friends, and kept my feelings private.
A demanding set of parents made life in my household pretty hellish. I was kept on a short leash and couldn’t wait for the day to finally spread my wings and get the hell out of town.
While my mom and dad did a decent job of fooling others into thinking we lived a picture perfect life, the reality was I grew up in a household that was unstable, chaotic and really just depressing.
There were lots of fights, due to my f
ailed attempts to push their boundaries. I wasn’t what you’d call an ungrateful or spoiled kid. I just yearned for a sliver of the compassion and freedom my peers were blessed with.
I was envious of the warmth and love the Anderson household exuded, and secretly wished I could be adopted by them. All I wanted were parents that showed a little kindheartedness and trust, and offered a shoulder to cry when I was down. Unfortunately for me, it was just too much to ask of my parents.
The Andersons were my saving grace, but even that part of my life had to be kept hidden from my parents. While they approved of my friendship with Lauren, I had to keep my chumminess with the Anderson brothers hush-hush. My parents didn’t approve of their daughter having “boys like the Andersons” as friends. They judged the brothers as wild and unpredictable and likely to lure me into some form of temptation. Those conversations were always fun.
Puke!
Never did they once consider I had a mind of my own and consider placing confidence in my own decision making.
If I got angry or stressed about my parents, I could always count on the Andersons to bring me back down to reality and not take life so series.
Aside from the Andersons, I didn’t have many friends. I’d always been conservative, and kept my head in the game. Maybe even an overachiever to a fault.
Lucky for me, I’d discovered my passion in writing. My passion lead me to a career of writing in an industry I loved most: fashion. After college, I landed the job of a life time in Paris. It was my one chance to take pictures and write my own stuff while in the city of love, heavenly French baguettes and an opportunity of a lifetime.
I’d be lying if I said I did it on my own. Despite being recognized by college professors, I was never very confident in my own writing skills. I suppose a constant struggle to please parents who were never content with anything I did resulted in my low self-esteem. If it wasn’t for the confidence the Andersons had in me, I suppose I’d never have the guts to step out of my comfort zone and even apply for a job overseas. I owed them more then they knew.
Logan: Life isn’t as exciting without you here. But I’m sure you’re kicking ass and showing those Frenches what you’re made of.
Logan: I mean butt*
Sam: Haha! It’s not easy being so far from home but I’m getting by okay. Thank you for your confidence in me. Don’t know where I’d be without you rascals.
I sent my text message off and anxiously awaited their responses. I sat in the window of a coffee shop watching the locals walk by. I stole a few minutes every morning to myself to help get my head back in the game.
Fashion in Paris was the epitome of iconic writing for fashion journalists like myself. And with the dream to one day start my own line of clothing for curvy women like myself, I found inspiration everywhere I looked. Paris was crawling with color and exquisite historic architecture. Strength and appeal. I saw love in couples’ eyes as they walked by and happiness on peoples’ faces as they drove past.
Levi: Been loving all the pics. Keep em coming Frenchie.