Restless, a certain Miss Mironescu had spent the past three weeks flitting from city to city, seeking respite from thoughts of work, or a lack thereof, and the overwhelming anxiety of the upcoming draft. There was no way she'd be signed back onto the Broomfleet, given her past history, but would her reputation overshadow her talent when it came to other times? There was nothing for it but distraction.
So she found herself in Paris, walking breezily along the Rue de Rosiers and ducking in and out of boutiques as they caught her fancy. As usual, she found herself delving into the rich girl's habit of not paying an ounce of attention to how much she was spending. Her Muggle credit card was attached to a bank account which she payed little mind to, mostly ignoring the bills that were sent to her flat. As such, her arms were already laden down with glossy bags filled with gorgeous things picked up on impulse.
Her heels rang along the pavement as she made her way down the street, in search of a place to sit and relax for a bit. She settled on one of the numerous outdoor cafés lining the Rue de Rosiers, perching lady-like in a bistro chair with her legs crossed neatly at the ankles, and ordered a café au lait.