“Tomorrow,” Alexandria St. Laurent announced to her best friends, Portia and Maeve, over sushi in the school cafeteria. “I am taking a ‘me’ day.” She flashed a sparkly grin, tossed her silky white-blonde hair over one shoulder, and reached for the wasabi. Not that Alexa needed any more spice in her life; her pulse was already racing with excitement.

“Why?” Portia snapped, raising one thin, dark eyebrow. “Tomorrow’s the Friday before spring break. Ms. St. Laurent can’t be bothered to show up?” Scowling, Portia shook out her chestnut ringlets and boldly plucked a cigarette from her patent leather clutch, just daring Mrs. Jacobson, the assistant principal, to bust her ass for smoking.

Alexa rolled her sapphire-blue eyes and tugged on one dangly crystal-encrusted earring. “Portia, you know I’m swamped.” Cramming her fuzzy shrugs, silk camisoles, and spike-heeled shoe collection into her Coach bags was the least of Alexa’s worries. She needed a manicure, a seaweed facial, and – since she was about to spend one full, delicious week with her olive-skinned, drop-dead sexy boyfriend – a Brazilian bikini wax.

Alexa St. Laurent took her vacations very, very seriously.

Especially this one. Because she and said boyfriend, Diego Mendieta, would be celebrating their one-year anniversary – a first for Alexa – in Paris. Oui. Paris. Also known as Alexa’s favorite city in the world. With a shiver of anticipation, she closed her eyes and summoned up the light-spangled romantic bridges, perfect for late-night kissing; the cozy corner cafes, where couples held hands over flutes of sweet kir; the hidden, narrow streets, made for getting wonderfully lost...

“Oh, God,” Maeve wailed, jerking Alexa out of her Parisian reverie. “You’re going to have the best time, Alexa, while I’ll be here all alone –” Breaking into sobs, Maeve pushed her sushi aside and dropped her head onto the sleeve of her striped Stella McCartney boatneck, her wavy red hair falling over her tear-stained face.