Trouble finding Blondie Page 2

  The waiter came over with a message. “Excusez-moi Madame, vous avez un visiteur.”

  They all looked towards the door. Simona stood up, excused herself, and walked over to a young man standing by the door. They were speaking French, but it was too noisy to hear anything from their discussion. Stephan and Aurelie didn’t think much of it, but Andre was on the edge. Who could possibly know where she was having dinner? When the man grabbed Simona’s elbow, Andre got up and walked over.

  “Y-a-t-il un problème? Enlevez votre main.” Andre glared at the intruder.

  “No problem at all. Monsieur is leaving. Good night.” Simona was pulling Andre away and back to the table.

  “What was that about?”

  “Nothing important. He was just a messenger. It’s work related. Sorry about that.”

  “Who sends a messenger to a restaurant at 11 PM?”

  “Ok, FBI. Drop it.”

  They barely sat down, rejoined the conversation, when Aurelie interrupted.

  “Oh, my God. Look who’s here. This is not a fancy restaurant, what is HE doing here?”

  Everybody turned their heads except for Simona, who was calmly sipping on her wine. The noisy restaurant converted into a quiet chapel within seconds. You could hear all the whispers. The dinning room manager rushed to greet him and started to babble something when the man just raised his hand and said, “Non, merci. Je vais très bien, je n’ai besoin de rien.”

  “Who is that, Stephan?”

  “He is the most influential, rich Parisian. And bachelor too.” Aurelie explained with a confused smile because it became immediately clear that he was heading towards their table.

  All eyes were on him, except Simona’s. She was still sipping her wine, trying to pretend it had nothing to do with her.

  Now he was standing above their table. They were all staring at him, then her. She didn’t move.

  “Bonsoir Madame Simona.”

  “Bonsoir Monsieur Bouchard,” she still hasn’t looked at him. She was staring at Aurelie across the table whose eyes were about to pop. Andre was sitting to her left, Stephan to her right. Everybody was staring at her. Simona finally turned to look at the ‘intruder’ with one arm over the back of her chair and the other on the table. She pushed her chair away from the table to get a full view. She slowly crossed her legs and arms. Her smile was simply saying ‘nice show, what now?’.

  “Vos amis sont americans?”

  “Non.”

  “Français alors?”

  “No, speak English, please.”

  “Alright. I came to apologize for my assistant’s rude behavior. Please, let me buy you all dinner.”

  “Hmm. Your apology is accepted,” Simona said. “But you didn’t have to come here. You didn’t have to cause a scene, and you don’t need to buy us dinner either. And as I said to your assistant, I’m still considering your offer. I will give you my answer. I guess not tonight, but I will call you tomorrow.”

  “I would prefer tonight.”

  “As you can see, we are still not done with dinner. It may be too late tonight.”

  “I will be up, waiting for your call.” There wasn’t any room for more negotiation. It was settled.

  “You know what? You personally came to apologize. I guess you earned yourself a hug.” Simona stood up, gave him a hug and a kiss on each cheek, and sat back down. He smiled with victory and satisfaction.

  “Excuse me again for interrupting your dinner. Good night.”

  “Wait. One more thing. If this makes tabloids tomorrow, I will have you killed.”

  “Always a pleasure, Madame.” He was still laughing as he walked away.

  The restaurant became noisy again, but the table was still in a state of shock.

  “More wine, please.” Aurelie raised her empty glass to be filled.

  “Is everyone able to get over Bouchard, or is this evening done?”

  “Would you like to elaborate on this scene, or do you just want us to ignore it?” Stephan inquired.

  “I understand this may not be easy to stomach. We can either forget that it happened and enjoy our dessert, or we can all go home now.”

  “Does that mean you are not going to say anything?”

  “It’s work related.”

  “Where do you work again?”

  “At the Four Seasons hotel.”

  “Alright then, Nikita.” Stephan was laughing out loud.

  “Stephan, you are terrible.” Simona was pretending to be mad.

  “Could you get me an appointment with him then? I have been trying for years. How long have you lived here?”

  “Off and on for three years.” Simona was smiling, fully aware of her mysterious position.

  The evening was done. They did have desserts and coffee, but nobody managed to get over the incident. Andre became very reserved. He looked as if his mind was somewhere else. Stephan and Aurelie were very entertained and intrigued. They asked for the check, but Simona started ordering something.

  “Puis-je s’il vous plait commander un double cappuccino et un biscotti?”

  “No, no, this is to take with me. I will pay for it. And thank you very much for dinner.”

  “Don’t be silly. S’il vous plait, rajoutez ça à notre addition.”

  “Who is it for?” Stephan was being curious.

  “For Monsieur Bouchard, probably,” the sarcasm was very evident in Andre’s voice. He got up to pay the bill. Simona simply smiled.

  As they were walking outside, figuring out how many taxi’s they needed, and which directions they were all going, Simona walked straight to a limousine with the cappuccino and biscotti in her hand.

  “Marcello! Where are you?” She walked over to the driver’s side, but nobody was there.

  “Seriously, dove sei?!!! Hai davvero intenzione di sprecare questo cappuccino?” /“Where are you? Do you really want to waste this cappuccino?”/

  “Le mie scuse, signora.” Marcello walked out from the back of the restaurant, looking apologetic.

  “Marcello, così bello di rivederti. Dammi un abbraccio. Il tuo capo non c’è.” /“Marcello, so nice to see you again. Give me a kiss. Your boss isn’t here.”/

  He walked over and gave Simona a hug and a kiss on each cheek. She was still holding the cappuccino in one hand and biscotti in the other, doing her best not to spill it down his back. The rest of the group was more confused than ever, looking at them both.

  Marcello was a great looking man in his early fifties. He was Swiss, born in Lausanne, went to school in Lugano, and married a French girl. His mother was Italian, his father was Swiss, and he spoke a million languages.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Everybody, this is Marcello. And this is Andre, Stephan, and Aurelie. He is our taxi for tonight. Please hop in.”

  “Assuming he is Mr. Bouchard’s driver, did you just expect him to be here?”

  “No Stephan, I didn’t assume, I knew. And yes, I know him well. Did that answer your follow-up question?”

  Stephan looked at Andre who just shook his head. Aurelie was enjoying the ride, completely mesmerized. She started to talk with Marcello, giving him directions.

  2

  "TO KEEP TRACK OF TIME AND YOUR HEART, ON BOTH SIDES OF THE PLANET."

  SIMONA WAS SITTING in a management meeting, unable to concentrate…

  Another warm beautiful sunny day in Paris. I’m going to leave early today and go to the park. Should I say something to Reni? In all fairness, she is the closest person I have here, and it’s not just because we are cousins. Quite the opposite, we are both the odd ones in the family. She knows all my secrets from the last three years. Well, I guess not all... No, I think it would freak her out. Better not.

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  Andre woke up and realized Stephan and Aurelie had gone to work already. Thank God. He wasn’t ready for any discussions about last night. He couldn’t sleep all night, trying to figure out what happened. How did she build this life that fast? How does she know these kind
s of people?! But then again, it’s Simona. Nothing she does is normal.

  He was tempted to call her at the hotel but felt she wouldn’t even take his call. He forgot to ask for her cell phone number again last night.

  Simona always walks off pain. Andre decided to try her walking therapy. He walked the city and had a nice lunch at his favorite seafood restaurant. After lunch, he went to the hotel.

  I feel like a stalker already. But what is my other option? I don’t know where she lives. I don’t even have her phone number. So basically, I’m screwed and this is my only option. How the fuck did I get myself into this position? I don’t allow women to have the upper hand. What the hell is wrong with me? Nothing is wrong with you, moron, this is the woman that you never had an upper hand on. Neither of you did. It was out of both of your controls, and you were pretty pissed off about it. God’s hands? Well, God, you better be on my side this time because I’m not fighting here for some sorry ass ‘too late’ kinda deal. And I don’t give a shit how many men are around her either.

  Processing all this in his head, he walked into the lobby and asked for her. The front desk girl was a strikingly beautiful Asian girl. She called the back office and was told that Mademoiselle Simona already left for the day.

  “Left? What do you mean left? It’s 3 PM.”

  “Yes, sir. She left early today.”

  That meant a dead end. He was not going to see her or talk to her today. He held his head in disbelieve. The receptionist was uncomfortable about the whole situation and didn’t quite know what to say or do. Then the red-haired lady from the day before arrived with a look saying ‘Oh my God YOU again?’, and then she noticed his sadness and took pity on him.

  “Listen. I have no idea who you are, but I know love when I see it. She had tears running down her face yesterday, coming back from the talk with you. You were incredibly nervous, and now you look genuinely sad. So, I’m going to go on a leap of faith here and tell you that she usually goes to Parc Monceau, not too far from here.”

  “God bless you. I will pay you back, I promise.”

  He rushed to the door, then ran back, jumped up to the counter and kissed the blushing red-haired receptionist.

  “Merci. Que Dieu vous bénisse.”

  Andre ran all the way. He was out of breath when he finally reached the park. He was still trying to catch his breath, looking around, when he saw her. She was with another woman and a baby. They were laughing and talking, while Simona was taking her heels off and sliding her skirt off. In 30 seconds she was in casual pants, shirt, sneakers, and pulling her baby fine hair up into a clip. She looked like a teenager, acted like one, too, goofing off with the baby.

  The other woman was leaving. She kissed the baby, hugged them both, and waived good bye. Andre started to walk towards them. Then he stopped.

  Simona was holding the baby on her left hip, and she started to dance. She was singing, too. The baby was laughing out loud, and she was goofing off. Andre was enjoying the scene. He sat down on the grass in the distance.

  She pulled out a blanket and spread it on the grass, took the baby’s and her shoes off, and laid down. The baby was crawling up and down, all over her. She was pulling, squeezing and kissing what looked like a HIM. She was constantly talking to him, too. She laid on her back with her legs up, put the baby on her feet and held his hands. She was flying him like an airplane. The baby got a kick out of that, and Andre was laughing with them on the other side, mesmerized.

  After a while she packed all the stuff, put the baby in the stroller, and started to walk.

  She slowly walked the streets, stopping by the birds, throwing them crumbs, smelling the blooming flowers, and constantly talking to the baby. She didn’t care what anybody thought. In fact, she didn’t pay attention to anybody else. She didn’t even notice that Andre was following her.

  She stopped at a garden restaurant, sat at a table outside, ordered Perrier and salad, and asked for bread and olive oil. She pulled the stroller closer and took a cooler bag out with some container inside, the baby’s dinner. She put a dinosaur’s bib on him and started to feed the baby. She was making funny faces and noises. The baby was opening his mouth, smiling the whole time. By the time her food came, the baby was fed, happily playing with a spoon.

  Andre was watching all of that from another table inside the restaurant. Surprisingly it was the best entertainment he had in a long time. He went to the bathroom. By the time he came back, she was gone. He ran outside in a panic, looking in all directions. “God dammit.” She was gone. “This woman drives me nuts.”

  ❖ ❖ ❖

  The next day, he decided enough was enough. They need to talk. He went to the hotel at 2 PM just in case and waited for two hours, reading newspapers. He made small talk with the valet boy, and tipped him to let him sit on the bench next to their station.

  At four o’clock an orange polished Aston Martin Virage Coupe pulled in. The valet boys rushed to the scene, fighting over the privilege of parking it. The two of them ended up by the door with confused looks. It was almost comical, as if to say ‘com’on seriously? Let’s do rock, paper, scissors.’.

  Four Seasons’ training persevered. One of them politely smiled while the other held the door. The man wasn’t getting out. Amused by the scene, he called the other valet boy back and tipped them both. He explained that he just needed to park there for a little bit, waiting for somebody. The boys happily agreed, showing him to pull to the side.

  Now, they all had a fabulous view. The Virage was a new contemporary design, a beautiful and functional V12 engine, with many meticulous details. What did the commercial say? ”It’s a new breed of a handcrafted luxury, the pinnacle of stylish discretion.”

  While they were all still drooling over the car, Simona walked out, thanked the doorman and wished him a good day. She would have walked right by the valet and Andre, but she noticed the car, too.

  Wow, what a beauty. And my favorite color, too.

  The man stepped out of the car, put his hands on the top of the roof, and smiled.

  “Need a ride?”

  “Oh my God. What are you doing here? Jacques.”

  “Waiting for you. Let’s go.”

  “I can’t. I have plans.”

  “I know you are going to the park. I will give you a ride.”

  “It’s around the corner. But thank you, I won’t turn this beauty down.”

  She jumped in, the ‘beauty’ took off, and Andre stood there speechless.

  “Are you kidding me? TAXI, s’il vous plait.”

  This is just great. What else? This woman is going to give me a heart attack. This is it. I don’t give a shit, what else can possibly happen? The day is today. We have to talk. I’m sick of this shit.

  He got out of the taxi and walked towards the entrance of the park when he saw the same woman with a stroller from the day before.

  “Bonjour! Vous attendez Simona?” /“Hello! Are you waiting for Simona?”/

  “Oui, comment savez-vous?” /“Yes, how do you know?”/

  “Je m’appelle Andre, je suis un ami de Simona.” /“My name is Andre, I am a friend of Simona’s.”/

  Before she could respond, the Aston Martin pulled up, Simona got out, rushing to the park. The driver jumped out, left the car running on the street, and ran after her.

  “Tu ne m’a pas répondu.” /“You didn’t give me an answer.”/

  “Es-tu cinglé? Ta voiture!” /“Are you nuts? Your car!”/

  ”Bien, bien, je vais t’appeler ce soir!” /“Ok, ok, I will call you tonight!”/

  “Salut, Reni.” The driver greeted the woman Andre was standing next to.

  “Bonjour, Monsieur Villeneuve.”

  “Reni, s’il vous plait, appelez-moi Jacques.” /“Reni, please, call me Jacques.”/

  “Très bien, je promets.” /“I will, I promise.”/

  Simona turned towards Reni and finally noticed Andre. She was in shock, trying to calm herself down. She turned away
to wave to Jacques and catch her breath.

  She walked slowly, trying to figure out what she was walking into while looking at Reni and Andre at the same time. Reni was smiling with no signs of stress, Andre was mysterious. She couldn’t read him at all.

  “Hello. What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you. Yes, the front desk lady told me you come here after work.”

  She made a mental note to kill whoever told him that. A slow, painful death.

  “I see you two met already.” She was speaking in Slovak, confusing Andre completely.

  “This is my cousin, Renata. This is Andre, an old friend of mine.”

  They started to exchange compliments about their French and how neither of them realized that they were foreigners since they were speaking perfect French.

  While this conversation was going on, Simona was looking at the baby, processing her thoughts. She finally said, “I’m sorry Andre, but I’m babysitting tonight. Reni and her husband are going out. I’m going to play Aunty this evening.”

  Andre almost said like yesterday?, but thankfully he didn’t. Renata was looking at Simona with confusion but didn’t say anything. Simona started to swear that she forgot she was babysitting and was wearing dress pants.

  “Oh well, no matter. You have seen me naked before. I have to change. Stand still, please.”

  Before Andre figured out what she was trying to say and do, she pulled her pants down. She was standing in beautiful lace underwear with her butt sticking out right in front of him.

  “Stop staring at my ass.”

  “If it’s sticking out, it’s allowed.”

  “Very funny. Well, I hope you got your fix.”

  “No, I didn’t. Can we do it again?” She smiled. It had a double meaning to them.

  “Very funny. Reni, do you have a hanger? Of course you do, because you are the best. And I love you.” She hung her pants and jacket on the hanger.

  “Listen, if you guys want to go out tonight, I don’t mind staying.”

  “Don’t be silly, Reni. I was looking forward to this all day. My lovely nephew and I are going to have a blast. You better go before he starts crying for mommy.”