I stepped out to the seemingly uneven sidewalk. The charity gala was unbelievable, the food, the music, the stunning decorations, it was the best yet. The bright colors of the city seemed to bleed together. “Oh, Paris” I said. The lights appeared to dance around me. I was walking forward but I found myself tilted and leaning on something hard, must be a wall.
“This is so unlike her,” I heard a familiar voice next to me say. I turned to look where it came from. Pippa held a tanned graceful arm in the air to hail a taxi. I formed my face into a scowl.
“When did her accent get so thick?” The hard wall laughed next to me, I tuned quickly to my right to find the wall actually was not a wall. It was Jerrod.
“Yeah, that happens when she’s drunk,” Pippa said opening the yellow door.
“Excusez moi! I am most definitely not drunk. I’m Charlie Benoît! I don’t get drunk.” The laughing continued and I became even more irritated. Was this some sort of joke? I felt my words were harder to form. “You know what? I don’t need to listen to this. I’m going home!”
“Damn straight you are.” They laughed again. I frowned even more. Crossing my arms over my sequin clad chest.
“I have to go talk to the caterers before they leave, do you mind making sure she gets home?” Pippa asked the extremely attractive brick wall.
“Sure, but I don’t know how much help I am, I’m not so sober myself” He replied. She shrugged and handed him my bag. My original Chanel, my 57 year old bag that had belonged to my grandmother. How the hell did she get it.
“Hey, that’s my vintage Chanel!” I shouted as I felt myself be helped into the taxi. More laughter, I hated not being in on the joke. The taxi cab pulled away from the curb and the lights began to become a blur out the window. I felt a little dizzy. I looked to my right and found Jerrod’s big eyes watching me. Oh my Louis, he was hot. I leaned in. He smelled like Armani and scotch. The next thing I know I was full on macking with the brick wall. We pulled up to the Swan Estate. It looked sad and alone with all the lights off. My heart fell a little.
“Whats wrong?” He asked. I realized my eyes had become moist. There was no way I was going to actually cry. I don’t cry.
“No one’s home.” I chocked, turning away from him. No one has ever seen me cry.
“Well isn’t it just you Pippa and Marie?” He answered matter-of-factly. I swallowed hard, fumbling for the handle. I stumbled onto the gravel drive way. I didn’t want to listen to this anymore.
“Wait your bag!” He hopped out behind me. I tuned, ripping the gold and leather chain out of his hands big hands. He tossed the driver some Euros but that stupid, hot, chiseled brick wall followed after me up the steps to the front door.
“What did I say?” He asked, standing next to me as I tried to unlock the huge brass lock. I didn’t respond. I kept fiddling with the dumb lock, it kept moving around. He put a large hand over mine and turned the key, and then he slowly opened the door for me. I avoided his eyes as I marched, well attempted to march into the house.
“Charlie,” He said softly, but it echoed through the empty house. “Look, you’re not alone.” He moved a fallen curl out of my face. I was so vulnerable it was sickening, so helpless and weak. He pulled me into his arms and held me, and I let him.