A Summer in Paris by Cynthia Baxter

but my father is the president of a huge corporation. He’s very well known in America. He even had his picture on the cover of Time magazine.”
    “Time magazine!” Alain seemed impressed. “I have heard of that. There is even a European edition, you know. Perhaps I saw his picture ...?”
    “Uh, no. I mean, probably not. I, uh, think his picture was only on the cover of the American edition. Anyway, he’s very important. And very, very rich.”
    “I see. And your mother?”
    “My mother ... my mother used to be a famous movie star.”
    “Really? And what is her name? I love movies.”
    “Uh, her name is Carolyn Connor.”
    Alain frowned. “I do not think I know this name.”
    “She’s very famous,” Kristy insisted.
    “Well, perhaps that name is a little bit familiar.”
    Kristy held back the urge to giggle. It was working. Alain was actually buying her story. And now it was time to really let loose.... “But my mother isn’t the only actress in the family.” Kristy paused, her heart pounding wildly. “I’ve, uh, been in quite a few movies myself.”
    “You! Really?”
    She swallowed hard as she nodded.
    There. She had done it. In an instant, Kristy had been elevated from a very ordinary high school girl with a head full of dreams to a star. A star that was capable of outshining both her sisters, a star who could live up to every expectation her mother had ever had for her daughters ... a star who was someone who really, really mattered. And as reluctant as she was to admit it, she was loving every second.
    As she continued to construct her little story in her own mind, she noticed that a man had sat down at the next table. And from what she could tell, he seemed extremely interested in them. He looked like he was trying to listen in on their conversation. She decided she’d better talk a little bit more softly, just in case this man heard her talking about how important she was and started to bother her.
    “So you must have a wonderful life back in the United States,” Alain was saying, sounding envious. “It sounds as if you and your family have everything. Money, status, fame ...”
    “Yes, I guess we do. And I don’t want to show off or anything, but my life is pretty great. I mean, I’m always going to parties—parties full of celebrities and socialites, the kind of thing that gets written up in magazines and newspapers all the time.”
    “Really?” Alain asked breathlessly. He was obviously impressed.
    “Uh, yes. That’s right. Anyway, I don’t care all that much about my, uh, fans. My family is much more important to me. My parents just adore me, of course, and we spend so much time together. Traveling, going to the theater ... I have two sisters, you know. One is younger and one is older. But do you know what?”
    “No, what?”
    Kristy leaned forward and spoke quietly, as if she were confiding in Alain one of her deepest, darkest secrets. “I really think I’m my parents’ favorite. I’d never want my sisters to hear that, of course.”
    “They are here? Here in Paris?” Alain blinked.
    “Well, no, but ...” Kristy shrugged. “Anyway, I was glad to come to Europe for the summer to get out of the public eye. It gets annoying after a while, always having photographers and reporters following me wherever I go. Magazines are always calling me to ask me to model, movie producers constantly come by the house—uh, one of our houses, I mean, since we own two ... I mean, three—to ask me to star in their pictures.”
    She glanced over at the man, who was still staring. She wished he would just go away. But she decided he was just somebody nosy—perhaps someone who was mystified by the strange conversation that was half in French, half in English— and she tried to ignore him.
    “I’m really just a simple girl, when you come right down to it,” she told Alain, waving her hands in the air. “You know, I don’t care about all the fuss that everyone always makes over me.