The Paris Apartment Novels & Stories

Paris felt different after the wedding. It was not the Paris I knew when I was younger. Then Paris was a city with a lot of fancy hotels and closed windows. People went to Paris to be seen. They did not really see anything. Now Stephen and I were two people walking along the Seine. We stayed in an apartment in the Marais. The floorboards. We could smell fresh bread from the street in the morning. There were no bodyguards, no phones and no strangers following us into cafes.

Since the killer still hadn't been caught, the department made the area a high priority. I shot Jacob a text. "Did the police just come by your place?" He texted back right away. "Yeah... I called the police after I saw the message. They were here a moment ago… They're searching the whole building now." I let out a breath of relief, so he was the one who called the police. I finally relaxed and even laughed at myself for being paranoid. Still, it had already been 20 minutes since the police went into apartment 603. The place wasn't that big. Did it really take that long to search one unit?

“Entrez, entrez.” We walk inside. He quickly shuts the door behind us, then latches all the chains and bolts and locks in quick succession like he’s done it a thousand times before. The place is gigantic, a beautiful, high-ceilinged room with hardwood floors and tasteful furniture. There are massive French doors that lead out to a 10 by 20-foot stone balcony and a stunning, picture-perfect postcard view of Paris. Aside from Grant’s palatial penthouse in NYC, it’s probably the most beautiful apartment I’ve ever been in.

I stared out the window as the city unfolded before us, a blur of old stone buildings, narrow streets, and chic Parisians walking with purpose. The apartment was charming—small, but cozy. It had large windows that opened to a view of the street below, the scent of fresh bread and coffee wafting in from the bakery across the road. Claire had already stocked the fridge with essentials, and there was a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen table. She had thought of everything, hoping this place would feel like a safe haven. “Home sweet home,” Claire said with a grin, tossing her bag onto the couch. “What do you think?”

ELVIS PARIS "This place is beautiful!" Hazel's voice echoed through the apartment as she hurried from one room to another, taking everything in. Paris has always been one of my favorite cities. The trip came together at the last minute. I'd originally wanted a suite around the tenth floor, but nothing was available. Rita, my travel agent, managed to secure this apartment on the twenty-first floor instead. She'd done well. The apartment was elegant without trying too hard. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, where thousands of lights stretched into the distance. Outside, fireworks lit up the night sky, probably set off by tourists celebrating one thing or another.

I asked before opening the door. “Your little trip to make the girls bond might have gone sideways,” he whispered, looking around before giving the second information. “I just received information that Paris is at the club,” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PARIS POV The lights and bass weren't running yet, but I could feel them anyway. Clubs breathe and feel differently before they start for the night. There’s this gentle hum that comes from the walls. Some kind of semicolon and the tearing of wires. Lights warning, setting up of glasses and all of that.

After he helped her into her dress, she fixed her hair so that it didn't completely look like she just had sex. Or made love as Felipe put it. When they stepped out of the shed, it started to rain. It looked like it had been raining a little while before Pierre went looking for her. Amaya and Felipe went out into the rain to soak themselves to make it look like they had been caught in the rain. It worked because that is what Pierre thought had happened when he found them. The gazebo didn't have a solid roof on it.

FELIX ------- “Alex no.” “Feel, please.” “I’ll get her a job but not as my assistant.” “But I don’t trust people, you’ve seen Paris, she’s a total man attracter, 3 of her bosses have tried to get sexual with her and 7 of them have molested her. Please Felix, Paris can’t live without a job and she can’t even work for perverts. I don’t trust other people around her. You’ve hated her all your life and you don’t mix personal and professional life. Please hire her.” My best and only friend kneeled in front of me with tears in his eyes as he recalled the sexual assaults on his sister by the men and women who were her bosses. Paris Martin, God save me. Paris was the clumsiest silliest and weirdest

"So I'll see you tomorrow then." Jane's apartment was located in the 9th arrondissement although Daniel had forgotten the street her house belonged to,he chose to enjoy himself to the fullest at the beauty of her home exterior with hopes of getting intrigued by the interior itself. His heard so much about the beauty of Parisian homes and He couldn't help but take few clicks of the building before entering.

She was in PARIS! The apartment was waiting. It was the first thing she had booked days back, even before her flight. She chuckled as she remembered the so many luxurious apartments she had to skip before picking that very humble one, her fingers trembling as she clicked “Confirm” late at night, making the reservation like it was a lifeline. She would later jump for joy after her request was processed and accepted.