---- Chapter 14 A few nights later, Kelsey' s phone rang. It was her friend from the security photo, a fellow curator named Sophie who had moved to Paris years ago. "Kelsey, you have to come out with me tonight!" Sophie said, her voice buzzing with excitement. "| discovered this amazing little jazz club. There's this American musician who plays there, Judd Mullen. He's incredible. And ridiculously handsome." Kelsey froze. Judd Mullen. "Sophie, |..." "No excuses! You've been cooped up in that apartment for days. You need to see the city, have some fun. I'll pick you up at eight." Before Kelsey could protest further, Sophie had hung up. The club was a small, crowded, dimly lit space, thick with the smell of wine and cigarette smoke. It was the kind of place Bennett would have sneered at. Kelsey loved it immediately. As she was waiting for Sophie at the bar, a man sidled up next to her, his suit too expensive, his smile too slick. "A beautiful woman like you shouldn't be drinking alone," he said in heavily accented English. ---- Kelsey felt a familiar wave of discomfort. "I'm waiting for someone," she said politely, turning away. He didn't take the hint. He moved closer, his hand brushing her arm. "Let me buy you a drink." "She's with me." A familiar, low voice cut in. It was Judd. He slid onto the stool next to her, putting a casual, protective arm on the back of her chair. He gave the man a cool, dismissive look. "My girlfriend doesn't like being bothered," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. The man's slick smile vanished. He muttered an apology and quickly retreated into the crowd. Kelsey turned to Judd, her heart beating a little faster. "Thank you. But you didn't have to do that." "Parisian men can be... persistent," he said with a shrug. "Sometimes you need a local to run interference." He winked. "Just returning the favor for the peace and quiet on the train." He had to go prepare for his set, leaving Kelsey with a strange warmth spreading through her chest. Sophie arrived moments later, her eyes wide. "Was that Judd Mullen? And did he just call you his girlfriend?" "It's a long story," Kelsey said, laughing. ---- When Judd took the stage, the noisy club fell silent. He wasn't just a musician; he was a storyteller. His voice was raw and soulful, his lyrics full of a gritty, honest poetry. He sang of heartbreak and hope, of lonely nights and new beginnings. Kelsey was captivated. He wasn't performing; he was sharing a piece of his soul. At one point, his eyes found hers in the crowd, and he held her gaze for a long moment, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. After his set, he joined them at their table. Sophie gushed over his performance, but Judd's attention was on Kelsey. "So," he said, a playful glint in his eye. "Was it as bad as you feared?" "It was... amazing," she admitted, her voice a little shy. "I don't usually go to places like this." "Let me guess," he teased. "You're more of a symphony and opera glasses kind of girl." "Something like that," she said, a real, unforced smile spreading across her face. Sophie, ever the tactful friend, made an excuse and left them alone. They talked for hours, about art, about music, about the strange beauty of starting over in a new city. He walked her home, the cobblestone streets quiet and empty. "So, about that kid on the train," she asked. "What's your ---- secret?" He laughed. "No secret. | just asked him what his favorite dinosaur was and promised to play him a song about a T-Rex if he used his inside voice. Kids just want to be seen." It was so simple, so kind. As they reached their building, he said, "| play here every Tuesday and Thursday. I'd like it if you came again." "I'd like that too," she said. And she did. Listening to Judd sing became her new routine. She found herself looking forward to their walks home, to their easy conversations. The ghost of Bennett Randolph, the pain of his betrayal, began to fade, replaced by the warm, soulful notes of Judd's music and the easy comfort of his presence. She was making a friend. And for the first time in a long time, that felt like more than enough.