by Dara Girard
After he’d sketched awhile, he tossed the pad aside and walked over to the enormous bay window in the living room and started to count the stars. He quickly grew bored and then tried counting the kitchen tiles, but sleep still remained elusive. He looked at the clock. It was three o’clock in the morning.
In a few days he’d be meeting with Yvette at three. Three in the afternoon. The thought of her brought an unconscious smile to his face. Kim would have liked her. But the thought of Kim erased his smile. He hadn’t come to Detroit to think about her, his father or his life back East. He was here not to think. For once in his life he didn’t want to owe anyone anything, or be what someone needed him to be. And at last he was getting a chance to be ordinary, if only for four weeks.
Nate welcomed the change. For an entire month his life would be his own. While Yvette took center stage, he could disappear in the background. Instinctively he knew Yvette would fill the role well. She had the face for it. And the legs. God, what a pair of legs…and that figure. Too bad he hadn’t met her a few years ago. They could have had fun. But he was a different man now. A man with secrets and a heartache that seemed to grow every day. But he was determined to still enjoy himself. He hoped Yvette liked wearing skirts. He would enjoy watching her in them. But he had decided early that it would definitely be a look—don’t touch—relationship. He had too much to deal with already and he didn’t want any messy entanglements. He’d had enough of those. But Yvette would be a nice diversion. A very nice diversion.
Nate lay back on the couch, keeping all the lights on, hoping pleasant thoughts would erase unpleasant ones, but the moment he slipped back into sleep the nightmare returned.
Yvette slept well that Friday night. It was the next day that proved to be a nightmare. It started with learning that James was allergic to her favorite perfume. He sneezed and sneezed until she was forced to bathe and remove the scent. Then, after going grocery shopping and doing some light housecleaning, she’d received a call from Arthur reminding her of their date. She’d forgotten and had to scramble out of her street clothes into something suitable.
“You are going to behave yourself,” she told James. “If I come home and find one item damaged then you’re going straight to the shelter no matter what Greg says.”
James only looked at her, wagging his tail.
When the doorbell rang, Yvette pointed at him. “Be good.” She opened the door. Arthur stood smiling at her and handed her a bouquet.
“You look great,” he said.
When he stepped in, James growled. Arthur took a quick step back. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”
“It’s temporary.”
When Arthur made a move forward James’s growl grew louder.
Yvette pointed at him. “Stop that.”
“I’ll just wait out here,” Arthur said.
“Okay.” Yvette put the bouquet in a vase then knelt in front of James. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you today, but I’ll be okay.” She stood and went to the door, but James raced in front of her and stood there.
“Don’t try to make me feel guilty for leaving you.”
He didn’t move.
She bent down and patted him on the head. “I won’t be gone long. I promise. I may even bring you back something special. Now move.” She pointed to the couch. James stared at her, hung his head and then walked slowly over to the couch. She watched him, feeling guilty, and wondered if something could be wrong.
Arthur knocked on the door. “Are you almost done?”
“Yes, I’m coming.” She took one last look at James then left.
The party was lively by the time they entered and there was a lot of ribbing as Arthur proudly showed off his date. After an hour of stares and being hit on by some of Arthur’s coworkers, including his married boss, Yvette disappeared into Arthur’s office for some peace. She turned on the lights and stifled a scream. On the desk and all over his walls were framed pictures of her. One of the photos was from the tenant’s barbecue last summer, another was a picture taken of her by Arthur as she sat on the doorstep and there were more.
“Yvette?”
She spun around. “What is all this?”
“It’s not what you think,” Arthur said in a nervous voice.
“Not what I think? People expected me. You’ve been lying.”
“Look, we’d be perfect together. Do you see this view?” He pointed to the magnificent scenery that could be seen from his new corner office.
She walked past him. “Take me home.”
“But the party—”
She raised a hand. “Is over.”
When she returned to her apartment, James rushed up to greet her. “This is why I don’t like men. I don’t understand them but dogs I do. Going out with Arthur was a big mistake. I should have listened to you. Maybe Nate is a mistake, too.” She picked up the phone, then put it down again. She’d given a total stranger her home number but to be fair, he had given her his and his cell phone. But she knew so little about him. She picked up the phone again and dialed. Nate picked up after two rings. “Hello?”
She froze.
“Yvette?”
“Yes, how did you know it was me?”
“I saw your number.”
“Oh.”
“Do you need something?”
“I need to ask you a few more questions.”
“Okay.”
“Are you single?”
“Yes.”
“Are you looking for a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Do you have any hopes, plan or desire to get married any time soon?”
He laughed. “No.”
“Good.”
“What about you?”
“Me?” her voice cracked.
“Yes, do you have a boyfriend or want to get married soon?”
“No to both.”
“So we’re definitely in business. What triggered this phone call?”
She told him about her night with Arthur. He burst into laughter.
“I don’t see the humor.”
“That’s okay. I do. The same thing happened to me once when I was sixteen except I didn’t know the girl. She wanted to impress her mother so she cut out a picture of me she had found in one of those glitzy magazines and put it in her wallet. Then one day I visited the same restaurant she went to with her mother and when her mother saw me she rushed over and hugged me.”
“What happened?”
“We dated a few months then broke up.”
“You dated her?”
“Sure. It was fun and she was able to save face. But I made sure not to be in photos after that.”
“You’re a kind man.”
“She was a good-looking woman. I wasn’t being that kind.”
Yvette argued with him for a while, then they talked about other dating disasters. He had more than she did. Before she knew it an hour had passed. “Sorry to have kept you so long.”
“No problem. Now you know me enough to trust me. I’m not after you, so you’re safe.”
“Yes,” Yvette said, wondering why she felt disappointed.
“I’ll see you Tuesday.”
Yvette hung up the phone, then smiled at James. “I guess the night wasn’t so bad after all.” She looked at her calendar and saw she had an appointment with Rania, an etiquette consultant, on Monday after work. Yvette remembered her initial apprehension when she read the instructions from The Black Stockings Society that told her to contact Rania. She’d made the appointment with a brusque, but polite, woman who identified herself as Rania on the phone and now looked forward to meeting someone who was part of the Society. All Sunday she thought about her appointment and went to bed excited.
Unfortunately, her excitement fell when she saw the building. It was a brownstone. An ordinary brownstone with one skinny tree that had small yellow blossoms. Yvette checked the directions to make sure she was at the right address, hoping she’d made an error. But there hadn’t been
a mistake. She was at the right place. She’d left work early for this?
When she stepped inside, the interior didn’t look much better than the exterior. Even her lower-priced apartment had a more engaging foyer. This one was as brown as mud with a frayed rug and pictures faded by the sun. Yvette looked at the directory and saw Right Touch Etiquette Services 205.
Yvette climbed the stairs, careful not to touch the railing that looked ready to crumble into sawdust. Once she reached the second floor, she looked for suite 205 and sighed. The door had more grooves than a railway station. She’d expected something more elegant than this. She stuffed the instructions in her back jeans pocket, knocked then stepped into a lavishly furnished apartment.
“No!” a voice cried.
Yvette stumbled back, startled by the woman on the other side of the room. She was an attractive, dark-skinned, full-figured woman who would make the perfect headmistress in a boarding school with her fitted tweed suit, single-strand pearl necklace and expertly styled hair. “You’ve done it all wrong,” she said. “Try again.”
“Try what again?”
“Your entrance.” She pointed to the door. “Walk into the room as though you were meant to be here.”
“But—”
The woman continued to point to the door, her gesture as forceful as a shout.
Yvette raced out the door and closed it wondering if she should escape completely. Who was this mad woman? How was she supposed to make an entrance? Yvette gripped the door handle and took a deep breath. She was rarely intimidated and wouldn’t be now. She could do this. After counting to three, she flung the door open then entered with her back straight and her head held high as though she were Madlyn.
“Excellent,” the woman said. She stretched out her hand. “I’m Rania, your instructor.” She glanced at Yvette’s worn jeans. “Those will have to be thrown away immediately.”
“You mean donated.”
“No, I said what I meant.” Rania made a circle around Yvette. “Presentation is important, but polishing you won’t be too difficult. You have the right combination. I suppose we’ll have to keep the earrings. I wouldn’t want you to not be yourself, besides your hair covers them most of the time. Yes, you have everything you need.”
“Huh?”
Rania paused. “Huh is not a word. It’s a sound and no one wants to hear you making them.”
“Sorry, I mean what did you say?”
“Don’t worry about what I was saying. I was thinking aloud.” Rania walked over to her desk, giving Yvette a chance to survey her surroundings. The apartment had been transformed. To one side lay a sumptuous dining area decorated like a faux restaurant, to the other an entertaining area. There was a photo area with a video camera, where Yvette could see that she was being taped. But it was the clothes closet that caught her attention. It resembled an upscale boutique, lined floor to ceiling with beautiful designs and shoes.
Rania noticed her look. “Yes, we’ll start with clothing. Too many ladies wear inappropriate cocktail dresses to lunch meetings. It’s better to be conservative than offensive, especially in international settings that have different cultural codes.”
Rania spent the next two hours instructing Yvette on what to wear for different occasions, and was somewhat surprised at how quickly Yvette caught on. She then switched to the dining area.
“Dining with strangers is never just about eating. Do you want to seduce, impress, engage, instruct? All that will dictate how you behave. Good manners are all about the other person. Don’t fake anything. Honesty is extremely attractive. It’s better to say ‘I don’t know anything about wine’ than to make the wrong selection.
“Don’t lie to the waiters, but don’t insult them. Be honest without being cruel. If they ask you if something is wrong with your meal and there is say, ‘I wanted to try this meal, but didn’t expect the hot pepper’ or something similar to that. Always be gracious. Tip, even if the service isn’t up to standard, and tip very well if you expect to return.”
Rania set a bowl of soup in front of Yvette. “Begin.”
Yvette lifted the spoon and started.
Rania gasped as though a spider had just fallen from the ceiling. “No, don’t hunch over your food. You’re not trying to write an essay for a history exam.”
Yvette straightened.
“And don’t open your mouth so wide, you should always sip from the side. Direct the spoon away from you as you ladle the soup, like a ship going out to sea. Yes, that’s better. Good.”
Rania instructed Yvette on how to butter bread, hold a wineglass and other table etiquette that had Yvette’s mind spinning: “Never use toothpicks at the table. If you have something caught in your teeth, excuse yourself. Go directly to the ladies’ room and remove it. Preferably, behind one of the stalls, you don’t want anyone to see you. Don’t freshen up your makeup or lipstick at the table, and never ever use your napkin as a tissue.”
At the end of the session, Rania felt Yvette was ready. “So what is next on your schedule?” she asked.
Yvette told Rania the name of the restaurant where she was to meet Nate. The two of them spent another hour selecting an array of designer clothing that fit Yvette’s slim form perfectly. She especially liked trying on the shoes, which were all in her size. She ended up with a complete new wardrobe. Rania watched Yvette, surprised. She had the eye. She knew quality. She knew what outfits and colors showed off her skin tone, eyes, hair color, and yes, her magnificent legs. Before she left Rania directed Yvette back to the closet and pulled out a simple gray dress. “You’re going to wear this to your meeting with Nate.”
Yvette thought her selection was horrible, but didn’t voice her opinion. She hated gray. However, this was her chance to be gracious. “I’ve never worn anything like that. I don’t think it will suit me.”
“It will.” She handed Yvette the dress. “Don’t wear any jewelry, other than your watch, and put your hair up, to show off your neck. If you’re concerned about anything, don’t hesitate to call.”
Resigned, Yvette went back to her apartment and hung the dress, along with the other items, in her closet. It was completely wrong for her. No loud colors, no daring curves. It looked perfect for someone who wanted to enter the nunnery. She shoved the dress to the back of the closet then shut the door.
Yvette took James on his evening walk and got caught in an unexpected rainstorm. She returned to her building with a wet dog and soggy shoes. She’d gotten used to the snoring, and having to walk him in the morning and the evening and the cost of his food, but the rain fiasco only made her more determined to find him a new home.
Mrs. Cantrell came into the hallway as Yvette pulled off her soaked jacket. “You got caught in the rain.”
“Yes,” she said, resisting the urge to wring out her jacket in front of her.
“You should have had an umbrella.”
“I know.”
“Arthur always carries an umbrella with him,” she said as Yvette headed up the stairs. “He likes to be prepared for anything.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He hasn’t stopped talking about the office party. You really had an effect on him.”
Yvette gave a weak smile, then continued up the stairs, shaking her head. One date and I’ll get my mother off your back, he’d promised. Of course that had been a lie, too. The moment she opened her door she heard another door open. “No, Elliot.”
“I wasn’t going to ask you out,” he said in a hurt tone.
“That’s a nice surprise.”
“I just wanted to let you know that some guy stopped by.”
James pushed his way inside the apartment. Yvette didn’t notice. “What did he look like?”
“Tall, black, good-looking.”
“That’s not very specific. You just described yourself.”
“You think I’m good-looking?”
Yvette sighed. “So you didn’t see him clearly?”
“No, he wasn’t here long.”
She opened her door wider. “Thank you.”
“Is he your new boyfriend?”
“No.” Yvette quickly went inside, changed out of her wet clothes then spent the next few minutes drying James as she tried to solve her mystery. Who had stopped by? Was it Nate? Did he want to see her? Why would he? Did he want to cancel their lunch date? Should she call him? He didn’t leave a note so it couldn’t have been important.
At that moment the phone rang.
Yvette scrambled to pick it up. “Hello?” she said, a little breathless.
“Hi, it’s Nate.”
A thrill of pleasure raced through her. Three words and her knees felt like jelly. She checked her forehead. Perhaps she was coming down with a cold. Or perhaps she was just happy to get their plan started. Or perhaps…
“Yvette?”
“Yes?”
“I thought the line went dead.”
“No, sorry. I’m here. I just came back from a walk.”
“I won’t take up your time.”
“Okay.” She hoped she didn’t sound disappointed.
“Just calling to confirm our lunch date tomorrow,” he said.
“Yes, everything is on schedule.”
“Great. See you then.”
“Wait!” she cried before he could hang up.
“What?”
“Did you stop by my place today?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
Yes, why? What a stupid question. Of course he wouldn’t stop by. Why would he need to see her? She sounded self-obsessed. “No reason. There was a mix-up. I just wanted to make sure.” She tried to sound casual although her face felt on fire.
“Fine. See you tomorrow.”
Yvette hung up the phone feeling like an idiot. Lewis had probably stopped by, although that was rare. Who else could it be?
The phone rang again. It was Lewis.
“Did you stop by?” she asked him.
“Yes, I thought we could go out.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. It was a simple, ordinary explanation. She felt stupid. “Thanks, but I’ve got to be well rested.”
“Oh, yes, your lunch with Prince Charming.”
“He’s not my Prince Charming.”
“I bet you want him to be.”