Chapter 11
“How are you feeling?”Charlotte worries when I come out of my room.
I stop myself from sighing or crying like a baby. I knew I wasn”t going to escape this kind of interrogation. I”m even convinced she and Manille have been discussing the potential cause of my catastrophic state. But for once, I don”t feel like answering their question. I haven”t even spoken to Corentin since. I”ve locked myself in my room all weekend. Today”s Monday and I can”t lie in bed and ignore them for the rest of my life. So, I take the time to come up with an answer while sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee in my hand.
“Yeah,” I say wearily. “It was a complicated weekend, but everything”s better now.”
Friday night is behind me. As hard as it was, I don”t intend to revive the moment. There”s no reason for me to revisit it. It”s in the past and must stay where it belongs. Whether it”s my dance with Corentin or the presence of my sire. If one event bothers me less than the other, I wouldn”t have imagined I could be sexually attracted to Corentin. Sure, he”s sexy, but he”s not the only man I find attractive.
However, he”s the first man I”ve ever wanted to get rid of his clothes and stick our skins together. Clearly not what I”m supposed to think of my friend. Corentin is mature, he”ll understand this moment, which is quite enjoyable, won”t progress any further. Our friendship is far too precious. And I need to pull myself together. Quickly!
“Okay. Know if you need anything, we”re here for you. Today, you have clients to meet. I”ve prepared some cookies to celebrate. Well, Manille wanted to eat everything again, but Lola was a good guardian.”
I smile at my dog, asleep under the table. My roommate hands me a bunch of white, dark, and even MM”s chocolate cookies. She”s gone out of her way to please me, and I thank her for it. Not everything is pink; it”s often black and gray with me, but the girls have not judged me. I can imagine it can”t be easy having a roommate like me. I”m not a ray of sunshine all the time, I”m not strong. I”m nothing, and they accept me as I am, unlike me, who can”t stand myself.
“You”re a sweetheart, Chacha.” I straighten up to get some cookies as Charlotte asks me if I”m ready to see my customers. “Yes, I”m glad I did. I”ve been waiting for this moment for so long. Everything”s ready to go.”
“I believe in you. I”m sure you”ll make it. Where do you plan to meet?”
“In a café. Normally, the first meeting takes place at their home if they wish, but they insisted on it happening there. They told me it was the place where they had their first date. I hope it will help me get a better sense of their energy.”
“You can do it.”
I hope so, and I”m not referring to my meeting with my customers. I”d like to erase Friday night, but most importantly, the pain in Corentin”s eyes. I regret not having told him he was in no way the cause of my moods. I could have sent him a message, but I didn”t dare. No lie seemed credible enough, because there was no way I was going to tell him about my father. So I chose to remain silent.
So, I know how to run away, but not at the right time.
I wash the dishes and get ready for my appointment. I put on a white shirt with flower motifs and a black skirt. With my heels on, I join Charlotte in the living room. In her Little Mermaid pajamas, she eats her cookies while watching Miraculous Ladybug. I retrieve my bag from the table and bend down to stroke Lola, who has woken up. I take her in my arms, then place a kiss on her sandy hair. I adore this dog. When we adopted her twelve years ago, she was a tough little thing. She used to stay in her corner, then one day I went off to my room crying. She joined me in bed, and we spent the night together, her in my arms. That was the day I realized she and I were for life.
“Hello, my beauty. You”d better behave, because I”ve got a surprise for you,” I tell her as I set her down on the floor.
Without shifting her gaze from the screen, Charlotte informs me that Corentin has come to check on me. Guilt builds in my stomach.
“Did you get angry?”
I sigh. “No. I mean, I don”t think so.”
“So why didn”t you answer him?”
“Because I”m a horrible person. Friday, after my panic attack, he apologized. Did you hear that? He apologized because he felt guilty.”
“Did he have any reason to be? Did he do something making you feel uncomfortable?”
She turned to me. Her voice, like her gaze, is cold. There”s no doubt Charlotte is ready to castrate Corentin if I confirm anything.
“No. Absolutely not. It”s me who put myself in this state, and afterward, I didn”t have the strength to tell him it wasn”t his fault. When he talked to me through messages, I felt so ashamed. Ashamed of my reaction. Ashamed of letting myself go to this extent. Ashamed he might think he was the cause. I”m tired of being me.”
She pauses and comes over to me. Her arms around me, she holds me close, whispering, ‘I”ll be okay”, and I believe her. One day, it’s going to be okay.
“I”m sorry, words don”t always work with me.”
“The ones in the vase?”
I nod.
“Not a big deal. We understand it”s not easy for you, which is why we won”t push you into anything. These words are mainly here to remind you we love you, your emotions are valid, even if you think otherwise. You can count on us no matter what”s going on in your head. We”re your friends. No, we are your best friends. We”ll be there for you, in good times and bad.”
“You cut your cartoon for me.”
She laughs and I join her. “I”ll put everything on hold for you. Now pick your head up and remember, no matter what happens, your best friends are there.”
“Thank you.”
“Regarding Corentin, despite my limited familiarity with him, I”m confident he won”t harbor any resentment toward you. Engage in a conversation with him only if you feel prepared to do so.”
We hug again, and she places a kiss on my cheek. I”m flawed, too many, in fact. But one thing I take great pride in is having friends like Manille and Charlotte. My life without them—Paris without them, would be a rainy day. I go into my room, retrieve a note from the vase: ”I am the sole mistress of what I feel, and today I choose happiness.”
As I close the door behind me, I feel surprisingly good. I would have liked to see Corentin before I left, but I know he”s gone. Nevertheless, nothing will spoil this dream day!
It only takes about twenty minutes before I arrive at the venue. Sitting in the typically Parisian-style café where I”m to meet the bridal couple, I take out my notebook, pen, and my already extensive file of potential suppliers. I take a deep breath to calm the pounding of my heart, punctuated by the anxiety of this first contract. The pressure is so unbearable, I almost want to vomit.
The waitress brings me my order, jolting me out of my reverie. I give her a thin grin before concentrating, eyes on my booklet, nervously fidgeting with my fingers. I”ve got to calm down! I can”t let my customers see me like this. And there”s no way I”m going to let élise down, or let this opportunity go to waste.
With a trembling hand, I bring the latte macchiato to my lips, wishing the delicacy of this sweet drink would soothe me a little. The bright lights of the spring sky caress and warm my spine through the large bay windows facing me. I squint at the sight of the dark-haired woman materializing before me. Her brown eyes sparkle with an almost unreal, angelic softness, and the sun shines even more brightly on her matte skin, highlighting her sublime salmon-colored dress.
“Florence Matip?” she asks me in a warm, lilting voice.
“That”s me, nice to meet you.”
She gives me a dazzling smile and a perfectly manicured hand.
“Naisha Bansal. Nice to meet you. I hope you don”t mind if we”re on first-name terms?”
With my customer in front of me, I realize this is all tangible and concrete. I”m not dreaming, my professional life is finally starting to evolve!
“I reply in kind, returning his handshake at the same time. And there”s no problem, we can be on first-name terms.”
Naisha settles into the chair in front of me and calls the waitress to order in turn.
“I hope you didn”t wait too long for me. I got behind at work.”
I imitate his smile and shake my head eagerly.
“I”ve only arrived, so don”t worry. By the way, will your future wife be joining us?”
“She shouldn”t be long. Clara is with her little brother, she”s behind schedule too. They rarely see each other, so she”s making the most of it. Do you mind if we start without her?”
“Of course not, but I can start by presenting the company and showing you the services we offer. We”ll go into more detail point by point when Clara arrives, all right?”
“That”s great, let”s do it this way!” replies Naisha, excited.
She reaches into her bag and pulls out several sheets containing multiple denominations and coordinates. She cheerfully hands them to me.
“These are the names of all the people invited. There aren”t many people, so we want to keep it intimate.”
At their request, the wedding will take place on Clara”s father”s estate, which they insist on. The address is given too.
“Perfect. Have you already sent your announcements and given a deadline for a reply? As the timing is a bit tight, it”s better to make sure everything”s done as soon as possible,” I hasten to explain.
“Yes, it”s done. We”re still waiting for some answers, but it shouldn”t be long now. Thanks for all your help. I can imagine organizing a union in such a short space of time can”t be easy. In fact, we”ve been working on a plan for this special day for a while now, but Clara and I have such complicated schedules we weren”t getting anywhere.”
“I”m up for the challenge, and I”m looking forward to making your wedding a dream come true.”
I launch the PowerPoint I”ve carefully prepared on my laptop. First there”s the company presentation, then the different steps to follow, the list of our services and providers, it”s all there. I”m amazed at how smoothly I speak. I was expecting to stammer a lot, but I”m doing pretty well.
“Frankly, you”re a lifesaver. It sounds so easy when you put it like that, but having tried, I know it”s not. I”m used to dealing with stress, but this was too much. I want so much for this to be the happiest day of our lives.”
“I”ll do everything I can to make sure it is.”
I”m about to ask her if they have any idea what they want or if they need a referral when a pair of heels click on the floor, followed by a high-pitched giggle interrupting me abruptly.
“It”s a joke. You”re supposed to laugh when I make one,” says an indignant female voice.
I raise my gaze and spot a tall, ashen blonde who resembles a figure from a celebrity magazine. Her peach skin carries a light tan, enhancing her already stunning appearance. However, it”s not her beauty that nearly causes me to choke on my coffee, but the man by her side.
“It”s not my fault you”re not funny.” I hear him reply.
I stand speechless for a second before regaining control of my emotions.
“Co—Corentin?” I stammer, stunned.