Anna walked the winding streets of Montmartre, passing slowly by the artists to admire their landscapes and portraits on canvas. Her phone rang. Jacques again. She sent it to voicemail. She wanted to think about her conversation with Juliette.
Juliette was pleasant, even complimentary. She liked Anna’s outfit – black slim fitted high-waisted slacks that tapered at the ankles, paired with red flats and a white, box-cut shirt. All the walking in Paris, despite all the eating, helped Anna shed a pound or two and her ensemble showed it.
All and all, Anna had enjoyed her time with Juliette. She even accepted Juliette’s invitation to met up again and they exchanged phone numbers. All of this, though, was after what Juliette had mentioned at the outset of their conversation.
They were only four words, but they confused Anna because there was no explanation afterward, only the compliment and some small talk about the weather and then the invite and exchange of numbers. And Anna, trying not to show that she was thrown off, didn’t bother to ask for some clarification. Still those four words struck a nerve.
Juliette had said, “you’re trying too hard.”