I stopped and stared at him. I noticed that he had the strangest eyes – one was blue, the other brown.

“You have different colored eyes,” I said, realizing only after how stupid I sounded.

“Oui. I think you call it, recessive genes?”

I noticed he was still holding my hand. I firmly but gently detached it. “Oui. I mean yes. Listen, can you tell me where I can find the Louvre?”

“Not the Louvre. That tourist trap. You can’t see the paintings for the tourists!”

“Well, I want to see the Mona Lisa,” I said stubbornly.

“No, you must go to my favorite museum. The musée d’Orsay is wonderful, you are sure to love it. We can take a bateaux-mouche so you can see how beautiful la Seine is.”

“Um. I don’t know…”

“Please say yes. I can practice mon Anglais.”

“Well, I did want to take a bato moosh.”

“Non. C’est bateaux-mouche.”

I could feel the warmth spreading out from my temple to my cheeks.

“It’s settled then,” he said as he took my arm in his. “You’ll practice your French, I’ll practice my English.”