CHAPTER FOUR
November 5, 1909
Paris France
Jack sat on a stool just a distance away from the effil tower, enough distance away to see the whole tower itself. He’s eyes are narrowed in concentration as he concentrates on his sketch of the tower. He doesn’t even see the girl come up behind him.
"Better be careful. Your face can get stuck like that," The girl laughed, breaking Jack’s concentration. Jack looks up to come face to face with a brunette woman with sad brown eyes. It’s obvious from the look in her eyes and the certain weariness of her face that she’s been through some hard times and maybe going through worse. "And such a handsome face too. It’d be a shame."
Jack laughed. "I
don’t think there’s any danger of that happening."
"Gabrielle," The girl holds out her hand, a very
beautiful hand by Jack’s standards.
"Jack. Jack Dawson," Jack smiles, accepting the offer.
"You’re an artist," The girl smiled. "A very talented one at that."
"Thank you," Jack smiled. "It’s my one true love you can say."
"I’ll have to change that," The girl laughed, taking a seat next to Jack, he begins drawing again. Besides her hands, the girl didn’t hold much interest for him.
"So Jack. You’re in paris alone?" Gabrielle asked, scooting closer to him, making him increasingly uncomfortable. It was becoming obvious what this girl wanted from him and he wasn’t willing to give it. Not without getting to know her a lot better. If just wasn’t that type of guy.
"For now," Jack shruggs.
"Want some company?"
Jack decided to put a stop to this charade now. "No. I’m dirt poor, plus I don’t do that type of thing," Jack scoots away from her.
"Oh," Gabrielle’s face falls. "Ok. Sorry to bother you." She was really wanting a night with the handsome blond artist, but it’s obvious that he wasn’t interested, and he probably never will be. There goes another nights meal and here comes another beating from Jonesy. He had made it perfectly clear that either she’d come back with a hundred dollars, or he’d take it out on her face.
Seeing the fallen expression on her face, Jack feels sorry for her. He couldn’t just let her go off somewhere and get killed most likely. He had to do something for her.
"Hey, do you have anywhere to stay? Or a way to get food?" Jack asked.
Gabrielle shakes her head. "I have nothing."
Jack sighed, hopeing that what he was about to do next wouldn’t be a mistake. "How about coming to the aritist hostel with me? All us artists stay there before moving on."
"But you have to be a artist," Gabrielle looks up at him, for the first time home seeping into her voice.
"Here. Show them this to prove you’re an artist," Jack tears a paper out of his portfolio and hands it to her.
"…Are you sure they won’t be suspicious? I mean…they must know your drawings."
"The clerk at the hotel hates art. He wouldn’t notice one artist’s style from another," Jack laughed. "Come on. We’ll go now." He stands up, gathering up his portfolio and supplies. "Check in time will be over in a couple of more hours."
The girl shrugs and follows Jack out of the square.