With the double breasted black wool coat over it, it was hard to see why the dress had been necessary. The belt around the middle of the coat brought it in at my waist. From there, it settled nicely over the skirt, adding to the shape rather than forcing it flat against my legs. Freddie didn't ask before he untied my hair. I hadn't dried it properly the night before, and the natural waves I usually straightened out bobbed over my shoulders and against my back.
“You need a hat,” he said.
“Does my hair look that bad?”
He smirked, “Stupid. The right hat can make it look better.”
Again, he babbled in French to the woman who had been admiring her work. She had been pulling me here and there for over an hour. Even though I'd shaved my legs, she insisted very loudly that I wear the flesh tone stockings she was thrusting at me. I would be warmer with them, but I'd never been a fan of anything but socks. She raced off, and tottered back on her ridiculous heels with a black wool micro-brim hat. It had a similar bow to the dress I was wearing. Freddie took it from her, and set it on my head, paying no mind to the way I blushed as he teased my hair into place, and I felt his fingers against my skin.
“Perfect. Shoes?”
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“I couldn't kill someone so beautiful. But you're not wearing trainers with this outfit. It would be a crime.”
“If you bring over heels, I'll walk out barefoot,” I warned the shop assistant, who probably didn't understand me.
Freddie added a comment in French, and I hoped that he hadn't totally translated my threat. She did find a pair of ballet flats. They were mostly black, save for a few white, doily like accents. They were just going on my feet, so I didn't care what they looked like, so long as they weren't going to cut my heels to ribbons because they were new.
“Are we done, now?”
“You haven't cracked a single smile,” he scolded, “I'll pay, you take a look in the mirror.”
I was dreading it. And there was good reason for me to do so. When I did stand in front of one of the full length mirrors, I didn't recognise the girl staring back. She had the same makeup I'd put on that morning, the same slightly chewed nails, and black polish. But everything else was totally alien to me. I did look like I could blend into a group of posh people, if I was so inclined.
“Do you think you could stand to walk around Paris, now?” he asked.
“Where are my clothes?”
He shook the bag he was holding. At least they hadn't thrown them out. I wanted to change into something less stifling when we got back to the house. Freddie took my hand, lacing our fingers together, and leaned in to kiss my cheek. We looked good together. As in, we really matched. He was the dashing playboy, and I was his latest squeeze. Well, we would be if we were in some stupid film together. The shop assistants thanked us greatly for the small fortune Freddie had spent in their store as we left. I didn't think I wanted to know what the price tags were. It would only make me paranoid about ruining the outfit somehow.
Like traditional tourists, Freddie could have easily taken me to a high class café that overlooked the Eiffel Tower. I wouldn't have complained about the view, but it was visible on just about every postcard and picture of France. Instead, we walked around the back roads, and found a dark little cafe that served steaming mugs of bitter black coffee. Although it was cold, we sat outside, watching the locals go about their business. The walls were scrawled with such beautiful graffiti that I'd have gone as far as to call it art. It was a brilliant alternative to a stuffy, silent gallery.
We had some entertainment in the form of a young woman. She was singing a forlorn tune to the sound of a keyboard application on her tablet computer. I had one of those on my phone, but I only used it to annoy people by repeatedly hitting the high notes. I didn't realise I drumming my fingers on the table in time with her playing.
“So, what's with the music? You said you weren't good, William said you were.”
“I dabble,” I said, “Making a living out of it is just a dream. Things like that don't happen.”
“Clearly they do, otherwise we'd have nothing to listen to.”
“ They don't happen to people like me.”
“You have just as much chance as everyone else.”
I smiled, and reached across the table to pat the back of his hand. He was nice, but there was no point encouraging where there was no hope. I'd made peace with the fact I wouldn't be rich and famous in my life. I was going to make the best of it that I could in the meantime. It wasn't like I couldn't be happy doing something else.
Freddie shook his head, “You don't seem the sort of girl to give up before she's even tried.”
“I don't seem like a lot of things, I imagine.”
“Know what? We're going to go and act like tourists. Watching you being depressed is no fun.”
“Isn't that going to be really boring for you?”
“Not if you're next to me.”
I laughed out loud, “Oh my God, does that line usually work for you?”
“You tell me.”
“Wow, you are so not like William.”
“Which is the best compliment you could give me. Shall we?”
Okay, so playing the tourist wasn't such a bad thing.
There was a good chance I wouldn't get to go to Paris again, and definitely not in such good company. I mean, I did have to live on a budget, and I couldn't fly off wherever I wanted without any notice. I was going to have fun while it lasted. Plus, the longer we were out, the less time I was spending with my mother and William. That was a blessing.
Freddie was in constant contact with me. If he wasn't holding my hand, he had his arm around my waist or shoulders. When we got to the top of the Eiffel Tower, I quickly discovered I wasn't a fan of heights. Rather than being annoyed, he thought it was adorable. I blushed profusely while we shuffled around, taking in the scenery without getting too near the railings. It wasn't like we were going to fall, but I had the irrational fear that one strong gust would topple the entire structure with us on it.
He was determined to document the excursion, taking pictures on his phone as I sat on steps, and posed in front of fountains. It was all kind of a rush, and it was hard to take everything in. I could see why people spent a few days in the city. There was no way a person could appreciate it in a few hours.
“Are you hungry?” he asked at last.
We were sat on a park bench, taking the opportunity to rest our feet. I was so happy he hadn't made me wear out a pair of heels, because I'd have destroyed my ankles in them already. I bumped my shoulder against his, “I could go for a crepe or something.”
“Light eater, huh?”
“Light wallet,” I corrected.
“I'll pay for -”
“Everything, apparently. I can afford a sandwich, you know?”
“I was thinking we could go to a little Bistro I know. And then, if you're not too full, there's a club that plays decent music.”
“Are you basically asking me out on a date?” I asked slyly.
“Isn't that what this is?”
“You tell me.”
Freddie smirked, and kissed me tenderly on my temple. No fireworks, but it wasn't unpleasant. Well, we hadn't known each other long. I'd never really believed in love at first sight, so I was fine with taking my time to let things develop.
The Bistro in question wasn't too romantic, but not stuffed full of families either. The atmosphere was relaxed, with couples and small groups of friends chatting among themselves. I didn't have a huge appetite, and made sure that my meal lasted while Freddie enjoyed his extra courses. He was so toned, it was hard to believe he could eat so much. Then again, being so rich, he probably had his own gym in his house. He'd work it all off in a single morning.
“Do you know Charlie Brackenwood?” I asked.
“William's friend? Yeah, he and his sister have been hanging around him for years. Charlie's a good guy, if a little stupid some
times.”
“He was going to our school, but apparently he's in Switzerland now,” I said as if I didn't know much about it.
Freddie took a slow sip of his drink. It was as if he was using it so he could think carefully about what he was about to say. Maybe because he wasn't sure I could be trusted with the information. He set down the glass, and confessed, “I heard that he was hanging out with a bad crowd there.”
“Excuse me?”
“I don't know the details, or names, but William made it clear that the company he was keeping wasn't that appropriate. So Charlie's parents thought it was best to move him away so he could get a bit of perspective. I think William went with him so he wouldn't feel lonely.”
I was trying really hard not to storm out and hunt William down like a dog. Who was he to say that Charlie hadn't been in good company? There was nothing wrong with us! I folded my hands in my lap, and forced myself to keep up a calm façade. Slowly and steadily, I asked, “Why was it up to William to decide that?”
“That's just the way he is. He's overprotective of his friends, I suppose. That's not always a bad thing. All I know is that the company a certain girl was keeping wouldn't have been approved of by his family.”
I was going to kill him with my bare hands.
I hated him!
“Beth, are you okay?” Freddie asked.
I wasn't going to blame him for what happened. Freddie didn't even go to our school, and if all he'd heard was William's lies, then he wasn't going to know the other side of the story. I didn't know if I should have put Freddie straight with the facts. I couldn't upset him by causing a rift in his family. Still, I didn't know if I could hold back if I was faced with that git back at the house. I was going to have put off returning for as long as possible.
I'd thought at least, William would want his friend to be happy.
He'd totally misled me, there.
“You mentioned a club, right?” I said.
“Yeah...”
“Good. Because I really need a drink.”
Chapter Sixteen
My feelings will not be repressed.
Club 51 was in the heart of the city. The line outside was staggering, and although Freddie had dressed me up, I had little idea of us gaining entry. Most of the women walking through the doors had legs that went on forever, and the flawless bodies only flaunted by top models. I looked like a child by comparison.
“Don't let go of my arm, and keep your head up. Confidence, okay?” Freddie said.
It was hard to feel confident and happy when I wanted to hit William with a chair. In my head, scenarios in which I could cause him serious harm ran on a loop. They were becoming increasingly violent, and I was having some difficulty blocking them out. He wasn't even with us, and he was managing to ruin our night.
Freddie waved over the bouncer, and smiled at him as he approached. The guy was built like a wrestler. If he was going to flirt his way in, then he was either going to make a new friend, or end up in the hospital with a feeding tube.
I hoped it wasn't the latter.
As it happened, it wasn't either. Without any attempt to check our identification, or to turn us away, the man let us straight through. Freddie strode into the club, and took me down the velvet carpeted steps.
“Did I mention,” he said over the noise, “That my father owns this place?”
I punched his arm, “You could have mentioned that before!”
“But you're so cute when you're scared.”
“You're a dick, Freddie.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyway. Come on, we can get into the VIP section.”
The canopy of the club was adorned with red neon light, casting a ruby glow down upon the patrons. Blue strobe flashes appeared in time with certain beats during the DJ's set, and I was already tapping my feet in time to it when we took our seats on the plush sofas. There were a lot of them in the room, with some smaller dance areas between for private use, and then a larger, open floor for mingling. Every table had a large glass flute shaped basin of ice, and bottles of champagne or beer nestled in them.
“What are you drinking?” he asked.
“Aren't you driving later?”
“We'll get a cab. Come on, it's all on the house. Drink until you don't care about whatever I said to make you so annoyed.”
Although he had said it, it wasn't really Freddie's fault that I was angry. I just wished that I had heard about it some other time. We were having a great day up until that point. I supposed it was partly my fault for asking about Charlie in the first place, but I'd wanted to know how he was, and if Jenny had any chance of seeing him again. If William kept getting in the way, they'd never be together.
God, I hated him.
All the time.
Drinking to get over my issues wasn't really the best way to deal with things. I resolved not to do it. Well, not after this one time. It was a night out in a high class club, an experience I wouldn't ever get to repeat. And only a total idiot wouldn't take advantage of a free bar. Alcohol was really, really expensive.
Freddie took care of ordering for us, and at first we just knocked back glass after glass of champagne. Each bottle was probably equal to a year's worth of school fees. Ridiculous, but really quite tasty.
Maybe I should have eaten more to pad out my stomach, or to soak up some of the booze, because I was getting drunk far too quickly. In an attempt to work some of it out of my system, I suggested that we took to the floor, and joined in with the massive group of dancers already there. Freddie declined for the moment, saying that he had step outside to take a call. How he was getting reception in that place was beyond me, but whatever.
I didn't lack in dance partners, and Freddie had pointed me out to the barmen, so I was able to choose my own drinks. And shots were really fun. Not at first, but the more I had, the more I enjoyed them. Everything was getting to be sort of a blur with the bright lights, and it was hard to tell one song from the next. I just knew I was having fun, and it was about damn time.
Freddie rejoined me, and I had no problem dancing so close to him that we were barely moving at all. He turned me, held me, and lifted me off my feet when required. He was pretty good, but when your Dad owned a club, you were going to get a lot of practice. Usually I was self conscious about doing such things, but all the drink was helping to remove those inhibitions.
Not always a positive.
He leaned in close to say against my ear, “I think you should extend your stay.”
“You want to get to know me a little more?” I asked.
“Definitely.”
It was a stupid thing to do, but do was just about everything I'd indulged in that night. I pressed my mouth against Freddie's. He took no issue with it at all, and slipped his tongue past my teeth. It wasn't as repulsive as when Wyatt did it to me, and that had a lot to do with the man attached to the lips. No one paid us any mind. A little kissing wasn't the most extreme display of affection happening in the club.
I wasn't going to go anywhere near the sofas, that was for sure.
“ We don't have to go back to the house tonight,” Freddie said, “I have an apartment nearby, and we could take a little walk along Le Seine. Romantic, don't you think?”
Going back to a guy's place after a lot of drinking, and a few kisses, could only lead to one thing. Then again, Freddie wasn't the kind of person who'd force that on me if I said I wasn't interested. There was just the question of whether or not I was sensible enough to refuse him should that situation arise. To encourage the answer he was looking for, he leaned in for another kiss.
It was then that someone wrenched him away.
The man in question landed his fist in Freddie's jaw, and sent him staggering backwards into some of the other patrons. A lot of the drinkers didn't care, but the few around us stopped dancing to see what was going on. I stumbled without Freddie's support. Standing was really hard work after – well – I'd actually lost count of the amount of drinks I'd had.
“Idiot!” he shouted down at Freddie, “Her mother is freaking out!”
Oh, so this person knew me.
Or at least, they thought they did.
Freddie rubbed his face tentatively. He'd have been well within his rights to return the punch, but he didn't seem inclined to. Instead, he came and put his arm back around me. He raised a brow, “We're on a date. Her mother is meant to worry.”
“I'm taking her back,” he said.
I knew that voice well.
Unfortunately.
I blinked my eyes into focus, and made out his face without the blur. Eurgh. It was William. Really, they should have sent Wyatt. He might not have been able to get in, though. William was good looking, and rich, so they would open the doors without question if he arrived. I wished they hadn't, because now we were in the middle of a dramatic stand off between the pair of them.
One Word From You: A Pride and Prejudice Adaptation Page 14