Pam handed Jim an envelope. Inside were two plane tickets.
"What's this?"
"Come with me to Paris."
"What?"
"You heard me. Next month, one week. You, me and the Eiffel Tower?"
"What about work...?"
"We both have enough vacation days."
He stared at the tickets.
She felt anxious. "Have I missed my chance for there to be an 'us"?"
"No," he said softly. "But I'm not sure what to say."
"Say you'll come with me."
He nodded, pulling her close for a kiss. "But I don't speak French."
"Paris speaks the language of love," she murmured. "I think we'll manage."