When the car came to a slow stop, I wanted to jump out and get some air, but her hand fell on mine and she said, “I think I have something that will compliment your outfit.”
My heart instantly started pacing at her soft touch, fearing it would burst. I was glad when she broke the physical contact and placed her hand inside her purse. She retrieved a stunning rose gold pendant necklace and motioned me to turn.
When I did, she slowly placed the necklace around my neck as the scent of her delicious perfume teased my nostrils. Her hand gently moved the tendrils of hair falling over the back of my neck, which created goosebumps all over my body. I unconsciously exhaled as I closed my eyes, trying hard to hold it together.
When she fastened the necklace, I let out a faltering sigh and placed my fingers over the pendant, feeling as though my heart had stopped throughout the whole time she’d been putting on the necklace.
I turned to face her, avoiding her gaze because I didn’t want her to see what her touch or our closeness did to me.
“Much better,” she said.
I smiled at her compliment and the door opened before I had a chance to respond. I stepped out in dignified poise, trying to pretend the few minutes hadn’t rattled me and was met by flashing, blinding lights.
It took me a moment to realize I was standing on a red carpet in front of photographers.
“Just smile and slowly walk along,” Mrs. Gallagher said beside me.
When she’d said we were going to a show, she hadn’t specified the nature of the event. I realized shortly after I was able to adjust my sight to the flashing lights, that it was a Paris haute couture fashion show.
I followed slowly behind her as photographers took individual pictures of us. The moment was so bizarre, I thought I was dreaming. After what felt like forever, I was ushered away from the photographers and inside the venue.
I tried to control my excitement when I saw familiar faces of celebrities, who all seemed to recognize Mrs. Gallagher in one way or another. She introduced me to some of them, which was great and even though I was starstruck, I maintained my cool.
I spoke to a few, expressing a contained appreciation for them and their work. I would’ve given anything to take pictures with some of the celebrities but I was too scared to do so because I didn’t want to look like an idiot or to embarrass Mrs. Gallagher.
She seemed to float through the crowd with that poise she commanded, provoking a similar curiosity from others as they provoked from me. I could sense the insurmountable amount of admiration for her from others, as I had from past similar situations. She was a woman in her own league.
She spoke to some of her friends while I mingled with some of the celebrities and other important figures and when the time came, we were all taken to the room where the fashion show was going to take place.
I assumed the fashion show had taken weeks or even months to plan and execute and last-minute tickets like Mrs. Gallagher’s was going to get us back seats, but I was once again surprised when we were taken to the first row of seats.
When I saw my full name written on a chair reserved for me, I looked at Mrs. Gallagher and found her smiling at me. I smiled back and took my seat beside her, wondering what she was thinking.
The runway was long, raised high above our seats and very well constructed. From the surrounding, the people attending and the photographers at the very end of the runway, I could tell the designers showcasing their work were renowned.
Almost half an hour later when everyone was settled, a male host introduced the event announcing names of designers whose work was going to be shown as the lights dimmed in the room except for the runway.
As I had guessed, it was the famous ones; Giorgio Armani, Oscar de la Renta, Carolina Herrera and Reem Alasadi.
A live performance by Pink almost had me at my feet when she emerged to introduce the first designer by singing a song from her latest album.
If I wasn’t already, it felt like I’d just fallen in love with Mrs. Gallagher for making me her plus one to the show.
Pink was singing right in front of me and I was on a front row seat to see her perform. For a while, long after the models had started walking down the runway, I just gawked in disbelief. She was gorgeous in person and her voice was magnificent. I loved her music as lyrics flawlessly rolled out of her mouth.
If this was the life Mrs. Gallagher was used to, how did she manage to be so humble amidst the overwhelming wonder of it all?
I stared at her in admiration and something more, something that seemed to materialize all at once, sparked. It was like my heart expanded, creating room for something she seemed to draw from me, something I couldn’t name.
Chapter Fourteen
After the fashion show, Mrs. Gallagher went backstage. I was almost sure she was going to talk to one of the designers, if not all. The fashion show had been something out of The Devil Wears Prada movie.
Both male and female models had been flawless on the runway and Pink had been joined by a couple of other artists on stage for the live performance. It had been so surreal because my reality still felt like an expensive illusion.
The designers were unbelievably talented and the crowd seemed to have loved what they’d seen.
Mrs. Gallagher joined me a few minutes later and told me we were going for an after party for a couple of hours. I was more than excited to go with her because I’d get to have a little fun around other people.
“What did you think of the show?” she asked when we were in the limousine leaving.
I liked how she was starting to express interest in my opinions. I knew they didn’t mean much, but having her ask and watching her pay attention as I answered made me feel good.
“I enjoyed Pink’s performance. I’ve loved her music throughout her entire career. The fashion show was a grand new experience. I loved it. Thank you so much for inviting me,” I said, fighting to contain my excitement.
It was proving hard being around her because I was always battling something within me. If it wasn’t an untimely arousal, it was my excitement for something else.
I didn’t know what image I wanted her to have of me, but I knew it wasn’t one of a babbling idiot. I wanted her to like me.
We got to the after party a while later and it had more people than I expected. It was at a large mansion and had people partying on all three levels of the building. Mrs. Gallagher seemed to know exactly where to go as I followed her to the third floor, where the people were more composed and sophisticated.
The first floor had the crazy lot of party animals with a lot of energy, alcohol and loud music, the second floor had a calmer environment with people who were more controlled and the third floor had to be accessed with a pass, which Mrs. Gallagher had. I had to admit, I loved seeing her world firsthand.
If I hadn’t been with her, I was certain I would’ve enjoyed the party taking place on the first floor. I loved to see how crazy people could get and it had been a while since I’d attended such a party. The third-floor party felt more like a formal party, but the crowd of people present was a bit more mature.
I got a glass of champagne and moved along the crowd to mingle with the people. I doubted Mrs. Gallagher wanted me to shadow her wherever she went and I didn’t want to burden her with having to introduce me to every single one of her friends.
She probably wanted to let off some steam and the last thing she needed was for me to get in her way. I didn’t know anyone at the party other than her, but the people seemed friendly.
I went outside the terrace to watch the party taking place on the first floor, which had migrated to the poolside area. The group was loud, which was refreshing to me because I felt a little less out of place.
“You should go down there.”
I turned towards the direction the voice had come from and met a handsome smiling face.
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Looks more like the sort of party you’d enjoy,” he said.
&nb
sp; It must’ve been because I’d been observing. “I’m good here,” I said.
“I’m Jonathan,” he said, extending his hand.
He must’ve been around thirty. He was well dressed in a tailored black suit and had a short neat beard.
“Olivia,” I said, closing my hand over his.
I thought it’d be nice to know someone, anyone else other than Mrs. Gallagher.
“Are you enjoying the party, Olivia?” he asked.
“I just got here, but so far so good.”
“I saw you walk in with Amelia Gallagher,” he said.
I nodded, unwilling to volunteer information.
“Are you her new pet?”
I was taken aback by his odd question. “Excuse me?”
“You know, are you her new form of entertainment?” He had a cynical smile as he asked the question.
“Um, I’m not sure how to answer that.”
“Young, beautiful and ripe for the picking,” he said softly as he moved closer.
I took a step back in discomfort, unsure of what exactly was happening.
“Jon, give her a break,” a female voice said from behind me.
I slightly turned to find a tall, slender, gorgeous woman looking at Jonathan in amusement.
“Don’t mind him. He’s always had a thing for Amelia but she’s never given him a second glance. He doesn’t take it well when people reject his advances,” she said.
I wasn’t sure what I was stuck in the middle of, but I was curious.
“I’m Zola,” she said. She looked vaguely familiar.
“This is Olivia,” Jonathan chimed in.
We shook hands as she came to stand beside me.
“Are you two friends?” I asked her.
They looked at each other and laughed as though sharing an inside joke. “If that’s what you’d call it, sure,” Zola said.
“What did you mean when you asked if I was Amelia’s new pet?” I asked.
“Ignore Jon, he tends to be a little dramatic,” Zola said.
I couldn’t help wondering if there’d been more to his question.
“Why don’t you get us some drinks, Jon?” Zola said and Jonathan rolled his eyes and left.
When we were alone, she leaned over the railing of the balcony and stared at the poolside.
“I hope he didn’t bother you much,” she said.
“He didn’t.”
“You don’t seem like you’re from around here,” she said as she turned her attention back to me.
“I’m not.”
“Where are you from?” she asked.
“New York.” I didn’t see any reason to withhold harmless information that didn’t involve Mrs. Gallagher.
“What’re you doing in France?”
“Work.” I took a sip of my champagne.
“Must be one hell of a job, partying on a Tuesday night.”
“It is.”
She responded with a smile.
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Florence,” she said.
She was Italian? Her English didn’t have a hint of an accent.
“I’ve never been there, how’s it like?”
“Magical, romantic, unbelievably beautiful,” she said.
I didn’t know anything about Florence, but I believed her.
“Are you here for work too?”
She nodded and I smiled back at her, wondering what she did for a living then it occurred to me why she looked so familiar. “Oh my God, you’re one of the runway models from tonight’s fashion show.”
She didn’t respond but from the look in her eyes, I could tell I was right. Jonathan must’ve been a model too. He’d probably been on the runway as well.
“When I was a kid, I used to steal my Mom’s clothes and make up. I’d dress up and catwalk in front of her mirror. I’d mess up her room and she’d get so upset,” I said as I recalled my childhood.
“You would’ve made a lovely model,” she said.
“No, I was too conservative and my dad would never have allowed it.”
“I was a rebellious child,” Zola said.
“What did you used to do?”
She stood up straight and looked at me as though she was contemplating sharing. “I went against everything I was supposed to do just to piss off my parents.”
“They must’ve been displeased,” I said.
“They sent me off to live with my grandmother. She was a dear old soul. I drove her crazy, but she never gave up on me.”
“She sounds great.”
“She was,” Zola said.
Jonathan joined us a minute later and handed us each a glass of champagne. “What are you two talking about?” he asked.
I scanned the room for Mrs. Gallagher but couldn’t find her. There were a lot of people there and the place was huge so she could’ve been anywhere.
“Nothing that would interest you. Where are Zach and Amy?” Zola said.
“Last I saw them they were headed to the first floor,” Jonathan said.
“Hey, you want to check it out?” she asked me.
I shook my head, unsure I should leave with them.
“It’s just downstairs and we won’t stay long,” Zola said.
I wondered if Mrs. Gallagher would mind.
“It’s a party, let’s have some fun,” Jonathan said.
“I can’t,” I said.
Zola tucked her arm around mine and dragged me along with her. She was surprisingly sweet and I liked her. I wasn’t so sure about Jonathan though. He’d come on a bit too strongly for my liking.
The music downstairs was so loud I couldn’t hear a word anyone was saying. We met up with Zola’s friends, Zach and Amy and headed outside to the poolside where it was less noisy.
Everyone in attendance looked like they came from money. It was like a secret club for rich people. They looked great all dressed up in their fancy outfits, they seemed educated and all behaved with a certain kind of aura.
We joined a few other people who appeared a little drunk and I assumed they were friends of Zola’s. They were a bit unruly as they danced, talked and laughed. I would’ve been a lot more comfortable if my boss hadn’t been somewhere within the location.
“Who’s your friend?” Zach asked Zola.
Amy and Jonathan were dancing together as they inappropriately groped each other. I wasn’t a prude, but I didn’t feel like Mrs. Gallagher would be pleased to see me in that company.
“Olivia,” Zola said.
She took my hand and pulled me some distance away from him.
“Let’s dance,” she said.
I wasn’t much of a dancer, but she was already swaying herself around me. I was a little tense and awkward, and she seemed to sense it.
“Come on, loosen up. You’re at a party.”
“I don’t dance,” I said.
She moved her arm around my waist and pulled me closer to her. I was too sober to act as carelessly or inappropriately as her friends.
“Try and move your hips to the rhythm,” she said.
I couldn’t. If it had been a frat party, maybe I would have, but I just couldn’t. I didn’t have it in me. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” I said.
I placed my glass down and left. I didn’t feel like going back to the third floor so I went through the house and headed back where Mrs. Gallagher’s driver had packed the limo.
He was inside the car when I got there. I knocked twice on the window and he quickly got out and opened the door for me. I got inside and told him to wait for Mrs. Gallagher since I couldn’t leave without her.
I thought about what had just happened and felt like an idiot. Zola had been nice to me and all she’d wanted to do was dance. Why had I behaved that way? Her group of friends had seemed fun and outgoing. I would’ve had fun with them, but I’d been so uptight.
Maybe I should’ve gone back and apologized. At the thought, I tapped the driver’s shoulder and told him I was stepping out for a
minute. I got out of the car and headed back to the house.
I’d just turned a corner to head to the entrance when I stopped on my heels at the sight of Zola and Mrs. Gallagher. They seemed to be talking about something. At first, I thought Zola might’ve been telling Mrs. Gallagher where I’d disappeared to, then it occurred to me that Mrs. Gallagher hadn’t known I’d been with Zola.
I watched them for a few minutes and when their conversation ended, Mrs. Gallagher started heading towards me. She didn’t see me because I rushed back to the limo and by the time the driver was opening the door for her, I was calmly seated, pretending nothing had happened.
“Did you have a good time?” she asked when the limo was pulling out of parking.
“Yes,” I said, trying to figure out what was happening. I wasn’t trying to make up a conspiracy but something told me there was something going on that I wasn’t aware of.
“Why did you leave?”
“I was tired,” I said.
The rest of the drive to the hotel was silent. All sorts of things went through my head and for the life in me I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Had Mrs. Gallagher asked Zola to befriend me? Had there been more to it than just keeping me company at a party I was a stranger to?
“Are you okay?” Mrs. Gallagher asked when we were in the elevator heading up to our floor.
I nodded as questions rummaged through my mind.
I calmly bid her goodnight when she got to her room and I proceeded over to mine. When I got inside, I gently rubbed my temple with my fingertips, trying to make myself believe I was being paranoid.
I replayed the evening in my head from the moment I’d met Jonathan. His questions had been unusual and his behavior towards me had been odd. Zola had joined us, quickly befriended me and then invited me to join her friends.
I poured myself a glass of wine and headed out to the terrace. The air was pleasantly cool and the Eiffel tower looked wonderful in the night. I stared out into the night as my thoughts trailed back to the last couple of hours.
When Zach, Zola’s friend had asked who I was, Zola had pulled me away and started dancing with me. I hadn’t thought it much at the time, but now it almost felt like she hadn’t wanted him to talk to me.
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