-Molly's POV-
Catching the sight of her bright golden hair bobbing along with the crowd, I couldn't help but shout in excitement.
I raced up after her and called her name. "Becca!"
She turned, and her kind face lit up with joy as she accepted my hug with matching enthusiasm. Her wholesome aura was like touching the sun and was exactly what I needed at the moment.
"Hey, Molly!" she greeted me. "I'm so glad to see that a handsome, rich Frenchman didn't cart you off."
I felt my smile drop off a bit as her words brought to mind the one Frenchman that I had been excessively grateful to get away from. The last thing I wanted to talk to Becca about was Jean-Pierre. Especially after getting to see her again after all this time.
We had talked and emailed, of course. But that did not replace how amazing it was to be able to hang out with Becca.
Instead of bringing up Paris, I forced a giggle and pulled away.
