And I knew exactly what she was talking about.
“I stopped going to the theatre for rehearsals. I stopped singing and playing the piano at home. I forgot to wash my hair; I forgot to dress, eat or drink. I was overcome with grief, but didn’t want to give up the hope that one day he would come back to me. Then I received a telegram from Argentina. It was from Ramon’s brother. A terrible accident had happened – a tragedy.”
She came to sit next to me on the sofa. She seemed exhausted: her eyes were shiny with tears.
“He was on an airplane that crashed during a terrible storm. It had taken them weeks to recover Ramon’s body. They found some of his documents and a photo of me. His brother had searched for my address and, when he finally found it, he sent me that telegram. I’ve never understood if my despair and grief were worse when I thought he had decided to stay with his wife, or when I discovered he was dead. I lost him twice. Since then I only sing for Ramon.” She stood up and went to caress the huge parrot. Then, as if nothing had happened, she said: “Would you like another cup of tea?”
I thanked Mrs Leoncini and went back to my apartment. I was shocked by her painful story. It was incredible to see how love could completely change someone’s life. Love was so very powerful, for better or worse. The heart can bear the weight of incredible sadness and infinite joy.
I was thinking of Sofia and Ramon’s love, and of her choice to remain faithful to him, faithful to a memory, when I suddenly remembered another story: Coco Chanel and Boy Capel.
Arthur Capel, nicknamed Boy, had been Chanel’s great love. He had always believed in her talent and it was thanks to his financial help that she started her career. For a while they lived together in Paris, and she once said that he even asked her to marry him. But it seems that she worried about depending on a man – especially financially – and didn’t accept his proposal. Gabrielle Chanel had always been an independent woman. However, there was another aspect that would have made that marriage difficult: the difference in social status. Chanel was a poor orphan and Capel was from an upper bourgeois family. But the love that bound them was absolute. Even later when Boy married a very rich woman, they remained close friends, until the terrible car accident that killed Boy Capel when he was only thirty-eight. It was after Boy’s death that Coco had decided to dedicate herself, body and soul, to her work – to become the greatest designer of the last century. She revolutionized the concept of femininity, and placed herself as the fundamental leader in fashion and popular culture.
I realized that at the beginning of her incredible story and career, there was a broken heart, a broken relationship. Maybe this was why she never married, remaining the eternal and elegant Mademoiselle Chanel all her life.
I compared her story with Sofia’s. Both were tragic love stories, and I reflected on the human capacity of loving someone to the point of remaining faithful to a person, even after they had been gone for a long time, and the desire to live one’s life for them, in spite of the incredible, immense emotional solitude it brings us.
I heard the sweet music from her piano downstairs. That night those notes told me many things. I came closer to the window, closed my eyes and listened.
6
The Special Ingredient
At the end of my first month at the agency, Paolo called me into his office to analyze the state of my training and plan the next move. That morning I wore a pair of light grey pajama pants with a white shirt and black tweed jacket. I had rolled up my jacket sleeves, and put on my pearl earrings.
I looked very professional, even though the night before I stayed up late again with Emma, drinking wine and chatting. I was sleepy; it was difficult to focus on anything and I had no desire to work. In spite of three espressos, I kept yawning.
I went to Paolo’s office. He invited me to sit and offered me a coffee. I thought that a fourth dose of caffeine might make the difference that morning. I accepted it.
“So, Rebecca, how are things going? At this point you’ve been on board with us for four weeks.”
I detest the use of maritime metaphors, especially to describe business and employees. However, I decided of course to smile.
I said, thinking up my own ‘sea worthy’ metaphor, “I feel like I’m sufficiently afloat.”
“Great! That’s the spirit it takes to overcome the stormy seas of life. I’m sure you have noticed that it’s easier to row in the right direction when the team is working together.”
Useless! That morning he was acting like the commodore of a great fleet. I had only to follow his desire to lurch towards the harbours of events.
“Yes, I’ve noticed it.”
“And now that we’ve provided you with the right oars, all you have to do is to use all your energy to row the boat as far as possible.”
Honestly, I would rather have gone back to sleep that morning. But so as not to disappoint him, I tried to remain focused as much as possible, with a fake smile on my face.
“Your training period has come to an end. Now the most complicated part of your navigation begins. Are you ready?”
It was already complicated enough to organize weddings, but to imagine crossing the seas seemed impossible!
“Umm… Sure!” I swore to myself that I would never stay up late at night again during the working week…
“You don’t sound enthusiastic. Something wrong?”
“No, no, everything is fine. I can’t wait to begin, and hope to do my best… although…”
“Although?”
“Although I still struggle to see myself as a wedding planner.”
“On the contrary, in Valentina’s opinion, you have a real knack for the job.”
So, the bitch, indiscreet and fixated on internet dating, actually found the time to observe my work! For a moment, I was almost tempted to reconsider my first impression of her. Maybe she didn’t have to stay in the number one position on my hate list!
“Really?”
“Yes, really. She says that the only thing is – you lack the ingredient.”
“The ingredient?”
“In our agency we always say that everyone possesses a special ingredient to make an event a great success. It can be a small thing, but it’s what makes the difference. It makes each convention, party and event we organize a complete success. It’s a personal talent, something innate, in which our agency strongly believes. You must discover yours, and use it as a spice for every wedding reception you’ll be organizing.”
From maritime to cooking metaphors! But I confess, I liked this idea of a special and unique ingredient. I wondered if I would be able to find mine and make that difference.
“So, all I have to do is find my special ingredient,” I said, trying not to yawn.
“You will succeed. I trust you. I’ll give you some advice: think of something that makes the good moments of your everyday life unique.”
Well, it would be more complicated than I thought.
“Ok! I will think about it.”
“So then, to work! We don’t want to waste our time below deck, when all other sailors are already at their posts.”
No, of course. I too wanted to earn my position in the galley…
I left Paolo’s office and headed to my floor. I kept wondering what could be the formula to transform my work into a great success.
As soon as I stepped into my office, Valentina’s squeaky voice of assaulted me.
“There you are! Today is going to be hellish… We are already late!”
I tried to apologize, explaining that I went to see the boss, but she didn’t listen and continued to address the whole team.
“We don’t have any time to waste: today we have to begin working on a very important wedding and we have only a few months to organize it. The client is immensely rich, an aristocratic family and almost six hundred guests! We can’t overlook the smallest detail. I’ve decided to give top priority to this event, and I’m going to work side by side with Rebecca. We’ll be sha
ring the work in order to do the best job possible. Since our colleague, Rebecca, has little experience with weddings, I may need to ask all of you to help. So, please, make yourselves available. And now, back to work!”
The anxiety made my adrenalin rise; finally, I began to feel awake. The sleepy fog that enveloped me all morning started to fade away.
The few instructions have been strong and clear. I will be working for this grand event paired up with the most fastidious woman on the planet! In addition, I was still missing that special ingredient…
“I hope you feel ready for your first big wedding reception. Of course I don’t want to risk it being a fiasco.” Valentina followed me to my desk.
“Yes. I believe I’m ready.”
Up to then I had only organized small receptions. It was easy to organize them just from my desk, with a few site visits. But this seemed to be a very important event. The bride’s family was very influential and the agency had all the intention of making this a splendid reception. It was very important for both our reputation and for marketing reasons.
“Good, because I need smart people, fast on their feet.”
“You can count on me.”
“Perfect. Look! Today you’re even dressed like someone from our century. Not bad!”
I took a deep breath and decided not to reply.
“This afternoon we’ll meet the couple at the bride’s villa. The first meeting and first conversation with bride and groom are always very delicate. We need to understand their expectations, what kind of atmosphere they are looking for, what kind of magic… More than any other event, weddings must be created from the expectations, dreams and wishes of the client. This is fundamental. We must make their dream day truly unique.”
I nodded in agreement, yet thinking that these words were somehow predictable.
“Even though they will soon discover this is only the beginning of hell…” Valentina added with her usual sarcasm.
I was not a big fan of marriage. Actually, at that point in my life I seriously wondered about the happiness of married couples, so I smiled at her. But my priority now was just to be left alone, to run to the coffee vending machine to get my fifth espresso of the day.
I spent all morning working on the new project. I called suppliers to ask for quotes, I set up appointments to visit locations and sent e-mails to catering companies to look for the most exclusive menus. I also looked at several magazines to come up with some cool ideas. We were all very focused and everyone’s enthusiasm was contagious. For the first time I really felt part of a team.
At two, after a quick lunch and – I swear – my last coffee, Valentina and I got in the company car to drive to the bride’s sumptuous villa, just outside Milan.
In one month, I had learned so much about wedding receptions. Now I knew what the priorities were, which suppliers had the best wedding favours, how to organize tables, which locations were the best for traditional weddings, and those that best fitted more unconventional receptions. There were many rules, imposed by tradition, education, fashion, taste and even superstition. I had learned all this: now it was time to try to use all this information, the moment had come to demonstrate to myself and others that I was capable of something. The idea that I could count on my colleagues help comforted me. Just one month of experience wasn’t exactly enough to feel self-confident.
What seemed to worry Valentina most was the lack of time.
“I’m sure you’ve learned that most people want to marry between May and September. Then they can take advantage of the good weather to have outdoor receptions, wear light clothes, and shoot millions of corny photographs in sugary garden corners.” She was explaining this to me, while we drove towards the villa. “In this case, the groom is the son of a very rich industrialist. He and his new bride will soon be moving to the United States. That’s why they couldn’t plan for a summer date. It seems that he can’t wait to tie the knot! They will marry at the end of March, and we should think of it as a winter reception. The family is of noble origins, with a lot of money to burn. They will probably want a classic ceremony. Believe me, those are the most difficult to organize!”
I had to admit that, although at times she could be extremely unpleasant, she was professional and well prepared. In spite of her cynical attitude, I think she really loved this job.
Perhaps it was the caffeine, or maybe the traffic jam outside Milan, but I dared to ask her something personal. “Have you ever thought of marrying?”
She remained silent for a few seconds. Then she looked at me and answered, “I’ve already been married.”
I realized that maybe I made a faux pas. A woman that I thought of as one of the most convinced singles I had ever met, had a love relationship in her past so important that it led her into a marriage.
“We were young and happy. I was even more beautiful than I am now. We got married and were together for many years.”
“And then?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking. Now I had become the indiscreet one!
“Then it ended. Most of all I believe it was because I didn’t want children at the time and he did… Anyway it would involve me getting as big as a hippo! Or perhaps it ended because some people are not meant to be together for life. In the long run, you get bored, especially with a loser like he was. We separated and eventually divorced. And now I’m a free and independent woman again.”
I caught in her voice a subtle vein of humanity, in spite of her usual proud, boasting tone.
It was incredible that all the people around me had some past relationship that hadn’t worked. I still wanted to fall in love again, more than ever, yet I began to realize that this thing called love was much more complicated than I ever imagined.
“Come on, don’t look so worried,” she said, resuming the sarcastic tone of a woman of the world, “I am perfectly fine. I date many men and have a lot of fun. Last night I met a very nice guy and we spent a wonderful evening together. That’s all we need men for, just to have a good time. You should try it! You look so uptight. I notice you always look a little sad, like a beaten dog. In my opinion you need to have some fun and go out with new men. Don’t tell me you’re still thinking of that asshole of an ex-boyfriend! You must be pro-active. You’re young and – although you have a funny way of dressing – even you deserve a sex life. How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”
Oh my god – again she was passing the limit. “I prefer not to talk about these things…”
“Aha! I knew it! Trust me: it’s been too long since you have had sex. That’s not healthy. If you want, I can arrange a date for you with a friend of mine, this weekend.”
Perhaps she was right. I had to say yes and accept a blind date. I would spend an evening with someone and then put the whole idea behind me, forever. Maybe this was also the only way to shut her up and stop her persistence.
“Ok. Set it up for this weekend. I have nothing to lose.”
“Great! That’s the spirit. I’m sure you’ll thank me.”
I don’t know why, but I had many doubts about this.
*
Finally, we arrived at the big villa where our clients were waiting for us. We passed through a huge gate and drove along a tree lined allee which led to the house. They had to be really rich to live in such luxury. I was fascinated by luxury, as long as it was not tasteless. Coco Chanel used to say: Some people think luxury is the opposite of poverty. It is not. It is the opposite of vulgarity.
We were received in a large living room; there were beautiful oil paintings on the walls, rugs and elegant arm-chairs and on a fireplace mantle there was a glass vase with beautiful, fresh red flowers.
“Please, come in…” the bride’s mother was smiling. She wore an elegant navy pants suit.
We introduced ourselves and sat on a comfortable sofa.
“Would you like a coffee?” Frankly, I couldn’t have another drop of caffeine in my system! I thanked her and asked instead for a glass of water.
&n
bsp; The future bride, her fiancé and her sister were also at the meeting.
“May we start?” Valentina asked very kindly – unusual for her – taking her faithful IPad out of her handbag. She kept all the documentation, photographs and her notes on it.
“Sure!” The bride seemed impatient. Her name was Giulia and she was a very beautiful young woman: tall, slender, with her long blonde hair tied up in a bun, showing an elegant, long neck.
“We have so many things to organize and in such a short time!” She added, sincerely excited.
At that point Valentina took charge of the conversation. “The first thing we should do is to pick out the invitations you want, address and mail them, so that all the guests have time to RSVP.”
“Yes,” the mother interrupted her, “we have guests all over the world. Many of them have been informed already and they are waiting for the formal invitation.”
“Then,” ignoring the mother, Valentina continued in her professional tone, “we will need to select the wedding rings.”
“We have already selected them at Tiffany’s! They are making them…” Giulia said proudly.
“Perfect!” I said. “Also we need to think about the dress and the shoes soon.” I knew the wedding dress was always one of the main reason for a young bride’s anxiety.
“I already have two appointments for tomorrow afternoon, if you would be available…” and Giulia named two prestigious showrooms in Milan.
Valentina nodded. “I can’t wait!” Giulia, joyful and thrilled, grabbed her sister’s hand. “I’ve always dreamt of wearing the white dress.” She smiled at her fiancé, who didn’t seem willing to talk much. Weddings in Italy are always women’s affairs.
“Also, we will have to order all the flowers. March is not the best month for flowers, but our nurseries have a big selection—”
I dared to interrupt Valentina: “We could use only camellias! March is the perfect month for them…” Camellias were the favourite flowers of Coco Chanel and so mine, too.
“White camellias,” Giulia said, clapping her hands. “I adore them. Wonderful idea.”
Coco Chanel Saved My Life Page 8