Immortal Beauty

by Thomas McDermott

  The man finally sat in a dark brown leather chair before the fireplace and breathed heavily. He had no reason to worry. Frankie and Clair knew what they were doing and he was certain that his adversary would never expect him to make a move of any kind. This was her Achilles’ heel. She was so arrogant and so self assured it would never occur to her that he would try anything at all to stop her. All these years he had made pacts and bargains and sought for some peace between them and every time she broke her word. He simply never made the first move. She believed that she was more intelligent than him and more cunning. In this she was wrong. She believed he was weak because he was kind. This fact gave him courage. It would never cross her mind that the Marquis D’Allesandro would ever engage her in a conflict because all of these years she had harbored a false assumption that Marcus was still afraid of her. He was going to use her own assumption to catch her by surprise. He was not looking forward to the consequences to his actions but he could not let her continue with her insane plans. Her insatiable desire to conquer the world had led her to do unspeakable things. He could not even imagine how many lives she had ruined and he knew that never once did she ever think about those lives. It was always about her. Even when they were lovers so many years ago it was always about what he could bring to her and what he could do for her status and her wealth. At the end of the day it was always a matter of how he could please her and what he could do to make her happy. Not once in all their time together did she feel even the flicker of an emotion unless greed could be considered a feeling. She had let her avarice destroy any chance she would ever had of finding happiness. She would not be happy until the world was at her feet and even then Marcus knew that this was not real satisfaction. He knew very well that there was no contentment in revenge. He had learned that happiness only comes from helping others and loving others and welcoming others into your life. Happiness comes from abandoning the search for self satisfaction and personal gratification. There was nothing like going to sleep at night knowing that somehow you had helped someone out or saw someone through the more dangerous roads in life. He knew that Celine would never understand this. It was beyond her comprehension and he wondered for the hundredth time if it was because she truly was a primitive after all was said and done. The sound of his mobile interrupted his thoughts.

  “Marcus here.” His low voice carried the hint of seduction. It was a smooth and pleasant voice.

  “Marcus. It’s Claire.” The petite voice whispered from his phone. “I’ve got her.”

  “Good. I’ll have Jean come and get you. We know the address.” He smiled calmly. “He should be there shortly…..good work!” He tried to sound supportive. He hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. One less life ruined. An innocent no less who had nothing to do with all this muddled warfare. Another life that would have been added to Celine’s list of necessary losses. If only he could find the other two, then maybe he could get some rest. He was absolutely sure that they were close to finding them. He could feel them just like the last time. They were definitely in Paris and would eventually find their way back to Rue Raynouard. He had to find them before Celine did or all would be lost all over again. There were footsteps coming from above and his heart started to race. He reached for his drink and took a long slow sip. It seemed to have the power to revive him into action and he sprang to his feet in time to see Frankie enter the room. He rushed forward to meet him and embraced the little man as if he had been gone for years.

  “Frankie! You’re home! Thank God!” He let him go and held him by his shoulders looking down into his eyes. Frankie was beaming. He was always like this when he had accomplished something devious. Things were beginning to look up.

  “Hey Marcus. Nice to see you too! I told you not to worry.” Frankie winked conspiratorially. “This is the easy part, you can worry later.” Frankie pulled the jump drive from his pocket. “I’ve got something for you.” His blue eyes twinkled with devilment. He was getting far too much pleasure from this but for once Marcus didn’t mind. “You’re not going to believe what she’s up to.” They walked sided by side to the stairs and made their way to Marcus’ office. Marcus called out to the maid almost yelling at her.

  “Virginie! We are going to be in the office and we do not wish to be disturbed for any reason whatsoever. Do you understand?” There was nothing mean or officious in his voice. It was more like excitement.

  “Oui Monsieur!” She called back cheerfully. This meant she was free for a bit. Maybe she would walk the gardens herself and take in some of the lovely Spring weather that had only just arrived in Paris. She looked out the long windows out onto the terrace and took in all of the beauty that lay sprawled indifferently beneath her feet.

  Sasha sat at her desk and couldn’t stop worrying. Why would the president of the company want to see her unless something was wrong? She had never met the woman and now the owner of a multi billion dollar international company was requesting a meeting. This could not be good. Could it be, just when she was getting used to the fact that her fabulous life was indeed all her own, someone had the power to take it all away from her. She reached for her coffee cup and drank the last of the powerful brown liquid the French call café. It was bitter and it was scalding hot but it was exactly what she needed. She glanced around her desk and looked at the memo again. All it said was that she had a meeting with Ms. D’Aumont at 10:30 a.m. Well, they usually don’t fire people until the end of the day, or was that just an American thing? Maybe their French took you out for a wine and cheese lunch before they gave you the boot. She wished for the first time that she had made friends since moving to Paris. She had acquaintances all over the place but there was no one person she could call and be all paranoid with who would not think she was crazy. Someone who told her she was doing a great job and it would be foolish for the company to let someone as fabulous as Sasha go. She had no interest in friends when she moved here. All she thought about was getting to Paris then finding work and a place to live. All her life was spent working on this dream of hers and now that it had come true she was just beginning to see that no dream, no matter how grand is worth much of anything when there is nobody to share it with. Now, more ever she wished her mother were alive. She would know what to say to calm her down. She tried to imagine calling her and telling her how freaked out she was about this meeting and she imagined her mother laughing and telling her that she was being silly and it was probably nothing. More than likely it was probably good news. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head. She could hear the practical wisdom coming form her lips. Sasha suddenly worried about her outfit. Did she look professional? Did she stand out from the other women in the office who refused to be nice to the American.? Would Ms. D’Aumont approve? Oh she wished it were over already. Looking at her empty coffee cup she decided she needed action. She had some time and the people on her floor would not see her leaving or coming back for that matter, She would head outside to one of the little cafes and order another coffee. She suddenly wished that she smoked. It would give her something to do. For now, getting coffee would work. It would get her outside for a moment and she could collect her thoughts before going back in. She grabbed her purse and walked quickly to the stairway.

  Taylor’s expensive car pulled up to the front of Celgen Laboratories. It looked just like the pictures he had seen while researching his topic. After a coma like sleep on the most comfortable mattress he had ever slept on, he was good to go. He never touched the champagne that Celine had sent him. He never drank alcohol. That was something out of his past. There was a time in his life when he couldn’t sleep without drinking. To be more accurate, he couldn’t dream when he drank. All his life he was tormented by nightmares. Ever since he was little he would wake up in the middle of the night choking and screaming. After years of doctors and medications, he finally found out that if he drank enough booze, the dreams would cease to come. For a good ten years he lived his life this way but he could not keep up with it and the l
onger time went on, the more alcohol he needed. Last year he went for alcohol counseling and decided that the nightmares were better than dealing with the endless hangovers that plagued his life. He was an adult now. What harm could a dream do to him now? Even last night he had dreamed of violence. There was blood and death everywhere and he was desperately trying to find someone in all the chaos. He woke up screaming and the poor people in the room next to his called the desk thinking that someone was being murdered. He recovered quickly and tried to shake off the sense of fear an anxiety the dream had given him. He had a big day today. Celine wanted to meet him immediately. Of course, the official interview wasn’t for two more days, but he wanted to get as much information he could our of her and here she was making herself very available to him. As a reporter he knew a smoke screen when he saw one. There was something Celine didn’t want him to talk about. He would find out what it was and decide for himself if it was newsworthy. Besides, it’s always the stuff that people want to leave out of their story that makes it all the more interesting. He could make his colleague regret ever giving him this story. He had the feeling that this was going to be one of those really big stories. His gut instinct told him this the minute she saw the driver of his limo. Something big was about to break and he was going to be there when it did. He checked out his reflection in one of the mirrors in the car. He looked good. The bags under his eyes were gone and he was dressed in a semi formal fashion with a black blazer and a bright blue silk shirt and decidedly no tie. He even unbuttoned a few of the buttons to show a sense of recklessness but not enough to make him look like a gigolo. He was definitely vain and knew what worked with the ladies. Not that he had hundreds of lovers in his life but he certainly like the attention and the flattery. He checked one last time and brushed his hand through his dark hair slightly tousling it. He did not want to appear stiff and boring. He wanted to seem fresh and modern. He wanted to be someone that Celine D’Aumont would find attracting and amusing. Someone with whom she might let down her guard and reveal things that she might not reveal to another journalist . He was doing what he did best. He was working a story. He got out of the car and thanked the lovely woman Celine had sent to pick him up at the airport. For a moment he thought he caught her sizing him up. Aha! Finally a crack in that tough girl exterior. He had given up long before the car even pulled up to the hotel on the Champs Elysees. Yesterday she barely responded to his clever quips and playful discourse but then again he did look a fright. Today was very different. He was well rested and feeling on top of his game. He boldly have her a little wink which she ignored, but couldn’t help smile at his boyishness. He watched her drive off and took a good look around. People were moving in and out of the building with a sense of importance. This Celgen was a very busy place. The pace reminded him of Wall Street. He walked toward the glass and steel and was looking up at the edifice when a woman crashed into him almost knocking him to the ground.

  “ Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” The young woman with chestnut hair was reaching to the ground for her purse. Taylor was irritated but unruffled. “I hope you’re alright.” She grabbed her bag and stood up looking him directly in the face. She stopped talking and began to stare. He stared back at her. Did she know him? How could that be possible? In all of Paris to run into someone from his past? Unlikely and yet she seemed so familiar to him. Her eyes. He knew those eyes and in one second he felt as if he knew everything about her. The moment passed quickly as logic began to fall into it’s proper place and the sense of disorientation faded away.

  “No harm done.” He smiled at her. She was looking dazed as if she too recognized him. “Do we know each other?” He offered up as an ice breaker.

  “No. I mean I don’t think so.” She continued to stare. Her eyes were wide with wonder She was very pretty with a full sensuous mouth and the prettiest hazel eyes which somehow reflected the colors in her hair. He felt as if he could stare at her all day. “I’m really sorry about this. I just have a lot on my mind and I’m running to get a coffee before I go back to work.” She continued to stare at him as if she couldn’t quite believe he was real. It was unnerving.

  “Really everything’s fine. I’m just glad you ran into me before you got the coffee. I have a meeting in there with a very important lady. I would have hated to have to go in here looking like I drooled all over myself. He smiled an gave a little laugh and found himself glad to see her smiling back at him.

  “I have a meeting with the president of the company at ten thirty.” She didn’t know why she was telling this to him. Maybe it was because out of the blue here was another American right in front of her. Now that she thought about it, she spoke English to him instead of French which was a very odd thing for her to do. She was definitely out of sorts today. “I have a meeting with the president at nine this morning! What a coincidence!” The more he looked at her and talked to her the more he was sure that they had met somewhere before. Maybe years ago in college and he just couldn’t remember. There was something so familiar about her. He just couldn’t place it, nor did he have the time. “I really must be off to this meeting though..Hey! What’s she like?” He nodded his head in the direction of Celgen.

  “I have no idea. I’ve been an employee of hers for four months and I never met the lady. I’m hoping she’s nice” Sasha tried to make herself stop staring but couldn’t seem to manage it.

  “Well, I hope for both of our sakes that she is very nice. It was nice running into you.!” He laughed at his own weak attempt at a joke. Thankfully, she laughed too.

  “Yes, it was very nice. We should do it again sometime.” She tried to match his light mood. Still she just couldn’t stop staring. She thought she must be approaching rudeness at any second now. He smiled again and waved as he went toward the ominous doors of Celgen’s headquarters. She watched him walk assuredly in as if he belonged there. She still watched even as the building swallowed him up. She couldn’t believe it. This guy, this random stranger on the street was the man in he dream last night. The man she met and kissed underneath the trees was the man on the sidewalk. That was why he looked so familiar! She put her fingers to her lips as if expecting to find them swollen from a night of lovemaking. The dream seemed more like am memory than something her mind cooked up, especially when the main character from it shows up in her life the next day. She was completely dumbfounded. How could this be? She wanted to shrug it off as some mistake on her part but she was absolutely sure. The clothing was different of course, an the hair as well, but he was definitely Etienne from her dream. There was no doubt. She realized she did not need the coffee anymore. She was no longer nervous about meeting her boss. All she could think about was if and when and how she was going to meet him again. He was even more impressive in real life in the daytime! She waited for a few minutes before going back inside. She did not ant him thinking that she was following him.

  Taylor flashed his pass at the security guards and spoke in his awful French.

  “Bonjour!” They ignored his greeting and stared at his clearance pass. Taylor scanned the guards and found it unusual that these hovering giants with mass and muscle were in the lobby of such a fine place. These were the kinds of thugs one finds at the side of a merciless dictator. He made a mental note to check on security issues. He could see that they both carried guns which was very unusual for a make up company. After looking at his pass for an eternity they handed it back to him and directed him to the elevator.

  “The fifth floor to the right.” With their officious tone they dismissed him. Taylor waked briskly to the evaluator and looked behind him. He was hoping the woman outside was somewhere near. He suddenly wished he had asked her name, or offered to take her out to lunch. He was sure they had met before, maybe long ago and wanted to find out where that would have been. He was still thinking of her when the doors swished open and let him in.

  “Good Morning Mr. Hamilton.” A very pretty and well put together woman with black hair greeted him. She rose from her desk
and extended her hand. Such tiny hands. He took one of them in his own and offered a professional handshake while sizing her up. Was everyone at Celgen beautiful? For a moment he amused himself thinking that it was a corporation full of beautiful women who planned to overthrow the male dominated world. Still, it might be e necessary in the beauty business to surround oneself with the best that the gene pool had to offer.

  “Good morning. I have an appointment with Miss D’Aumont but I see you already know that.” He sadly let go of her hand.

  “Of course she is expecting you. Please follow me.” She walked over to an ominous glass door making sure each step clicked loudly on the priceless marble floors. He followed her almost sheepishly .