Constance
At first, it really worked. Marnie had packed Lou’s schedule, which kept me extra busy. Good busy, mind-off-Dorian-Fisher busy. For a minute it felt like Lou was everywhere, looking insanely good, dressed by me.
I hadn’t attracted any new clients yet, but there was hope. Actual hope I could touch.
Lou came out of the changing room at Marielle’s boutique in a sunshine-yellow strapless dress and my face lit up. Another winner. The girl was game for anything, and she couldn’t look bad if she tried.
But she didn’t seem so sure of it.
“You don’t like it?” I asked.
“It’s nice… I just…don’t want to go.”
Marnie was sitting in a corner underneath a shelf of embroidered pillows and immediately looked up from her phone.
“You have to. I told you it’s on the terrace of the Martinez, right? I mean, why don’t you want to go?”
Lou made a sheepish face. “I don’t want to go alone. Will you come with me?”
She was addressing both of us, but Marnie jumped in. “You’re the star. You’re the face people want to see.”
“And you’re not alone,” I added. “You’ve made friends all over town. You’re killing it.”
That was the story anyone would get from the pictures she posted.
“I don’t think I can…” Lou started.
“We’ll go with you,” Marnie said, definitively.
All this work had managed to keep me away from Dorian’s suite, but for how much longer?
I felt my fingers tingle with the want of making contact, my brain quietly calculating the probability I might run into him.
The party was at the Martinez. And if I was there with Lou, the chance would be that much greater.
***
The three of us rocked up to the famed hotel with smiles on and steps in synch, like we did this all the time.
For Marnie, I’d chosen a long ruby-red dress with an A-line skirt and a bustier top.
I was in a mint-green backless gown with a large bow at the neckline.
I’d originally wanted to wear something more pared back.
I didn’t care about the spotlight, especially when standing next to Lou, but this might be the only party I’d get to attend in Cannes, the only moment of fun, even though it would mostly consist of looking everywhere all the time for a glimpse of Dorian.
The party was called a “Fragrance Fête,” a promotional event for a new scent.
The beauty group that owned the brand sponsored the festival, which explained the prime location on the terrace of the Martinez.
A carpet in the lightest shade of pink had been laid out for the occasion and there were peonies everywhere you looked, their velvety petals undisturbed by the light breeze coming from the sea.
The vibe was very much Girly of the Girlies, and I felt good about how we stood out: fierce and fashion-forward.
Many guests had gone for pink, the obvious sartorial choice.
Marnie grabbed three cocktails for us, and I started to feel a bit more at ease.
That went away pretty fast. From the other side of the terrace, Laila waved energetically in my direction.
She parted the crowd, her loose hair bouncing against her shoulders.
She wore white satin pants with a matching oversized sleeveless vest, and dangling Clapard diamond earrings.
With Lou and Marnie flanking me, there was nothing to do but brace for impact.
“Connie!” Laila said as soon as she was within earshot. “Always love to see a friendly face!”
She air kissed me on both cheeks and stepped back to take me in.
“You look different,” she said. “Hot, actually. Good for you!”
She introduced herself to Lou and Marnie.
“This girl is my shero!” Laila said brightly, after all names had been exchanged. “I swore after that night I would never ever drink again.” Then she noticed the cocktail in her hand and cracked up. “Oh well!”
The morning after I’d put her to bed, Laila had texted to thank me and swore she owed me one. The shame made me suffocate, and I’d replied with a perfunctory My pleasure, always, leaving her follow-up message unread.
“Did you hear what she did?” Laila said to Lou and Marnie.
I seriously thought she was about to out me.
Every few hours, I pulled the Clapard jewelry out of the safe in my room and checked that it was still there, minus whatever Lou was wearing with her current outfit.
At first, I’d had a strange feeling that something was missing.
I was certain I’d taken more. In my memory, the loot had been heavier, bigger.
But then I figured it was the guilt talking.
It didn’t matter how much I took anyway, because I was going to give everything back. At some point.
“It’s not like that!” I practically screamed.
Laila laughed. “Oh, but it totally is.” She turned to the girls again. “I met this guy the other day at a party and got way too drunk. Cringe! I mean, he was very handsome but I know better. If you come across a sleazy French guy named Samuel, beware!”
She laughed, but Lou’s face fell so much I hesitated to find it funny.
“Anyway, Constance literally saved me from him. Isn’t she the best?” Laila continued.
“We’re friends!” I said, my throat in a rough knot. “That’s what friends do.”
“Aww,” Laila said.
“And Constance is an amazing friend to have,” Marnie said. “Look at us.”
“I am loving this look, girl,” Laila said to Lou. She clocked her jewelry. “Very nice touch,” she added, pointing at Lou’s wrists, who was wearing two of the three Clapard bangles currently in my, um, possession.
“Thanks,” Lou said, almost blushing.
“I work at Clapard,” Laila said casually, though you could tell she enjoyed any opportunity to slip that into the conversation.
I had to put a stop to this train wreck now.
Marnie looked at me excitedly. “Is that how you get to borrow—”
“Oh my god!” I exclaimed loudly, staring into the distance.
I had no idea where I was going with this, but I had to come up with something that would stop Marnie from finishing her sentence. All three girls turned to follow my gaze, intrigued.
“Look!” I said, pointing vaguely at nothing, hoping they couldn’t hear how much my voice was trembling.
“Do you mean Tyler Charles?” Lou asked, excited.
Marnie lit up. “Such a smart move on his part to come! Way to stand out among a sea of beautiful girls.” Then, remembering, she turned to me. “Are you still friends with him?”
“Still?” Laila said. “Aren’t you his new stylist?”
So this whole thing could get worse.
But then Lou turned things around for me. “Do you want to go say hello?”
“Yes!” I said, without thinking.
I could not, would not, answer Laila’s question. Best pretend I hadn’t heard it at all.
We all headed in that direction, despite the fact that Tyler hated me right now.
My heart knocked around my chest as we wiggled our way across the crowd.
Mercifully, when we were about halfway through, a woman in a pink boater hat intercepted Laila, who stopped to talk to her, promising to catch up to us in a minute.
“Take your time,” I said.
And I meant it.
As Lou, Marnie, and I kept walking, I ran through all the possible scenarios.
Tyler was swarmed with attention already; we might not be able to approach him.
Too bad! Or I’d find an excuse to get away as soon as Lou started talking to him.
The look on his face during our last interaction was still haunting me, and I’d spent the last few days praying I’d never see him again.
But Tyler did notice us coming toward him. His gaze caught Lou first but soon landed on me. I sensed the girls’ inquiring looks, waiting for me to do something. I was the connection to Tyler Charles; it was on me to make a move.
Lou and Marnie straightened up, like people did when they were in the presence of a celebrity.
My mind was clouded with the memory of our last conversation.
I hated myself for how we’d left things.
Or maybe I hated that I only felt bad because Dorian had disappeared.
If he hadn’t, I might not care so much about Tyler.
If Dorian filled my days, my world, I wouldn’t have the brain space to think about anyone else.
“Hi,” Tyler said eventually, his brown eyes narrowing on me.
“Hi,” I responded numbly.
“I…didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.
Lou didn’t seem to sense the awkwardness.
“Hi, I’m Lou Ocean Utley. I’m an actor,” she said, batting her eyelashes at Tyler. “Constance is my stylist.”
If she had been anyone else, Lou’s attitude would have seemed childish or maybe even slightly unhinged, but Lou was so enthused at meeting Tyler that it was kind of charming. Her feelings were out in the open, like she had nothing to hide. How did she do it?
“Constance is a hard one to get,” Tyler said. “And to keep.”
The weight of his words crushed me. This rising-above attitude made me feel ten times worse about what had happened.
“I’m very lucky,” Lou said.
How could someone like her put her trust in me?
At what point would my new friends realize that I appeared like a functioning human being on the outside but was, in fact, completely obsessed with Dorian Fisher?
To the point of doing anything he asked, even when he didn’t actually ask.
Because that was how he did it. He was a silent puppet master, expertly pulling invisible strings. And what did that make me?
Tyler glanced in my direction. He was being courteous, letting me lead the conversation away, to change the topic as I chose. But I couldn’t. Seeing him like this, it was too much.
I didn’t think. I just stepped forward and wrapped my arms around Tyler’s neck. He was much taller than me, which meant I was on my tiptoes, but he helped me by holding my waist.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered in his neck.
“So am I,” Tyler said, sadly. “I wish you well, Constance. I hope you do, too.”
My eyes welled up; I couldn’t let him go. Tyler had always been so genuine with me. Eventually he pulled back a little, and that’s when I saw them: the photographers, snapping this private moment away.
Tyler was still holding me. We were so close.
That’s how I got the idea. There was one way to find out how Dorian really felt about me, if there was still a chance for us.
So I tried it.
I leaned forward and smacked my lips against Tyler’s, long enough for the photographers to capture it.
Just enough to alter the course of our lives.
And it did change everything.
Just not at all in the way I’d hoped.