21 Steps to Happiness (19 page)

“Let's go to my apartment,” Muriel suggests.

I shrug. All I can think about is the Hub. It's like a huge shadow swallowing me, and I'm sure about several things. There will be no more partying, no more Nicolas, no more anything before I end everything with the Hub. So I say, “I can't go out tonight, I have…plans.”

Before Muriel has time to protest, I lean forward and ask Massoud to drive me to the Georges V. A little while later, as the porter opens the door, Muriel leans forward and grabs my hand.

“You keep this one,” she says and gives me the hedgehog. “Friends?”

“Friends,” I say and before I know it, she gives me a quick kiss on the mouth.

“I like you,” is the last thing I hear before Massoud drives away, leaving me in front of my hotel, with my Adidas bag and a little plastic hedgehog, staring back at Nicolas's worried face in the back window of the limo.

I'm not going to my suite though.

Oh, no!

I grab my cell phone and switch it back on. I manage to find the call-back function in the French menu.

“I need to see you now,” I say before Barclay has any time to take control of the conversation.

“I'll send Dave,” he says.

“No, you're not going to lure me into one of your ultra-romantic traps again.”

“What?”

“I'm coming to your apartment right now. And please, don't make any plans.”

“Okay, you—”

“I nothing! Give me the address!”

I hang up on him. Be strong, Lynn. You can manage a breakup with the Hub.

T
he taxi stops in front of Hubert's building. I pay the driver and stand across the street from the apartment. A very light rain starts falling on me.

I walk across the street and press the H.B. button on the interphone. There is a little camera looking straight at me.

“Come on in,” Hubert says.

“What floor?”

I make a little mental lottery. Odd numbers, all will be fine. Even numbers, it will all turn to shit.

“Second.”

“That's what I thought.”

I climb the two floors slowly. The door to the apartment is open. I hear Hubert's voice. He's not alone. He is talking to a woman and even though I can't hear what they're saying, her voice seems awfully familiar.

“Here you are,” Hubert welcomes me with a killer smile. “Marion has just arrived in town. I hope you don't mind her joining us.”

“Who's Marion?” I ask.

I step in the living room and I see who the fuck it is. I need to sit. I know her voice because we all know her voice. I mean
us
as in
us the entire planet
. What I didn't know is that in private people call her Marion.

“Do you know each other?” Hubert asks. “Probably you do. Marion, you must have met Lynn.”

“You're Jodie's daughter, aren't you?” she asks.

She actually knows me! But I'm goddamn sure we never met before, and I'm also sure that Jodie would never have mentioned me to her.

“Oh, y-yes,” I stutter.

She offers her hand. I discreetly wipe mine on my dress and shake it.

Please, Lynn, don't say anything stupid. Like
I'm one of your biggest fans
or
I love your music
or
Is yoga really the answer?

“We must have been to some of the same parties,” I lie because Jodie never takes me to any functions and prefers to lock me in her amazing loft apartment whenever she's in the mood to see me.

“I'm a big fan of Jodie's. She designed some of my favorite pieces.”

I nod as if that was a compliment for me.

Hubert proposes a drink. Marion asks for a refill of sparkling water and I say, “Sparkling water, oh that sounds lovely,” and regret that no one mentioned vodka or something stronger.

Marion excuses herself and goes to…She is going to the toilet. She doesn't even ask where to find it. They are such good friends. Mmm…

Hubert passes me my sparkling water. “I know that we were supposed to talk. But Marion is going through something and she needed a friend.”

“Of course, of course!”

“She needs to go out, you know….”

“Yes, yes…I understand.”

“We thought we could go to Mean Ray. Just the three of us. It will be good for her.”

Poor Marion, confused and lost with her own emotional troubles.

“The media has been on her back, since…the scandal….”

He frowns suggestively. I have no idea what he's referring to but I nod all the same.

“You don't mind, do you?”

“Oh, no, if…”

Wait a minute! I'm not here to cheer up poor Marion. I'm here to get the hell out of Hubert's life.

“Actually, that's not okay….” My breakup mood is back, but Marion has returned to the living room.

“Mean Ray?” she asks. She looks at me. “I don't want to be a drag.”

Hubert smiles at me. If I smile back it means yes, let's forget about breaking up and have fun and then sex. If I start to convulse and white froth comes out of my mouth, it would mean no, leave me alone.

I smile hesitantly.

“Should we go, then?”

What, now? We haven't finished our mineral water.

Marion dials her cell phone and says, “We're going now,” very coldly, as if she were speaking to a computer. She hangs up. “Paul will be here in a minute.”

Paul? Paul McCartney? Paul Weller? Which Paul, for Chrissake!

“My driver,” she says specifically at me.

Oh,
that
Paul!

 

There is no queue for us, no wait, no effort at all. We fly through people like three ghosts. We're untouchable and everybody would kill to be with us. That's how important we are.

We don't need to speak either. We sit in the VIP corner and a waiter brings mineral water and three glasses. They can read our minds.

Hubert orders drinks for us—Marion sticks to the water—two Bloody Marys and a conversation about London real estate later, Marion wants me to accompany her to the toilets.

I'm her toilet partner!

“Sure,” I say, standing. Hubert pats my butt and I really can't tell him to fuck off because I have to stay all hunky-dory not to hurt Marion's feelings.

We make our way to the toilets, and everybody—I mean everybody!—looks at us. I feel the collective envy crawling all over me.

“I'm sorry,” Marion tells me.

“About what?”

“About invading your night like that.”

“Yeah, but look, I get to go to the toilet with one of the most famous women in the world!”

Oops!

“You're funny,” she says.

In all the hottest clubs in Paris, there's a much greater party going on in the toilets. That's where things really happen. It's not only about doing the business, it's a space where one regains composure with oneself.

“He's a great man. I envy you,” Marion tells me from her cubicle.

“You must be envying a lot of girls. His entire address book, actually.”

“I never met any of those girls. You must be someone special to him.”

We get out of the cubicles and a young model type spots Marion in the mirror, moves away gracefully and leaves us her precious mirror space. She gets rewarded by a smile from the Queen of Pop.

I mean, what wouldn't you do for that?

“Hubert doesn't mix his friends and his…girls.” She takes a prescription bottle from her bag and drops a pill. She rinses her face under some cold water. She looks at her reflection. “So, I envy you.”

“Can I tell you how much I love your music? And you,” a young girl with a French accent says.

“Thank you,” Marion replies kindly.

“Oh, thank
you,
you're so graceful,” the girl says and walks away all grateful. Marion gets thanked for accepting compliments. You have to see it to believe it.

“Hubert is a lucky man, too. I don't know you, but you seem to be a genuinely nice person. Hubert sees you that way, too, I can tell.”

Marion, that's what I used to be before I jumped on that plane to Paris. I have killed that honest and true person.

I lie! I deceive! I hurt! I'm out of control. I'm a monster.

“Are you all right?” she asks as she watches me collapse inside myself.

“I…hope you're right.”

“Lynn, you're an honest and nice girl. It radiates from you.”

 

Hubert is no longer alone at the table when we return. Muriel has joined him and I'm suddenly covered in goose bumps.

“I thought you had plans, Lynn!” Muriel laughs like a camel and turns to Hubert. “Oh!
He's
your plans! You're a busy girl.”

This is not happening!

I try to look calm and sit down.

“Is Nicolas here?” I ask matter-of-factly, but she doesn't answer. Instead, she eases up in the sofa, tries to embrace me, stumbles, misses and lands on the table, knocking down our drinks. I help her up. “Hi, Marion!” she yells when she realizes who's sitting with us.

“Hi, dear, how's your dad?”

“My dad?”

“How is he?”

“Good.”

Muriel's not smiling anymore. It sobers her up to be reminded that she's Francis's daughter.

“I've got to…” She stands and walks away.
Dad
is the secret word that turns her into a zombie.

“You'll send him my regards, won't you?” Marion says, but Muriel is already gone.

I'm about to follow her, but Hubert stops me.

“Muriel will be all right,” he says authoritatively.

I look more carefully into the crowd. The dance floor is clear. The bar appears clear. Oh, God! I want to hide under the table, just in case.

A handsome young man detaches himself from the crowd. He's wearing glasses. It makes him look smart rather than nerdy. He sits down next to Marion, as if it is the obvious thing to do.

“They told me you were here,” the man says. “I didn't believe them. I told them you're not going out anymore. I told them you're locked up in your fucking castle in London.” He turns to us. “Hey, Hub.”

“Joe, this is…” Hubert tries to introduce me.

“Yeah, one of your girls, who cares.” He turns back to Marion. “We've missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Marion says and embraces him.

Wait a second. This is not your common Joe. This is Joe Tip, the actor.

“He owns the club,” Hubert explains.

“Marion, Marion, a picture, please?”

We look up. A woman, a professional photographer, already has her camera glued to her face.

“I know her. She's all right.”

Joe and Marion turn to her and they freeze in a pose. They look straight into the camera. I'd swear they sucked their cheeks in. They look perfect. I can imagine how the picture will look. The photographer takes a few more pictures and turns to us. She asks again, “Hubert, do you mind?”

He takes my hand. He nods and she takes a few pictures of us together. Flash, flash, flash. Hubert Barclay with his special friend. Oh, dammit! I didn't suck my cheeks in.

“Hey!” somebody shouts from the crowd.
“Qu'est-ce que tu fais là, princesse?”

Moi? Princesse?

I look up. God, no, it's Marc and he is completely drunk! Or high. Or both.

I turn to Hubert. “It's all right, Marc is a friend from work,” I say, but my heart is about to explode. I already feel exposed and I look around for a possible escape route.

“You know this guy?” Joe Tip asks.

“Ah!” Marc shrieks suddenly. He's realized that Marion's sitting with us. “You are my GODDESS!” he yells at her.

She looks away. She's not enjoying herself anymore.

“Marc, I think you should go,” I say, immediately regretting being so rude.

“Oh!”

Before I can apologize, two bouncers grab him and drag him away.

Hubert puts his arm around my shoulder. “It's all right. They're just going to put him in a cab.”

“Hey, buddy!” Joe snaps. “Don't you know that it is impolite to stare? Fuck! Who let those people in?”

What? Who's staring? Where?

Oh, God. Nicolas!

He is there, by our table. Staring at me. Me with Hubert's arm around my shoulders.

Joe waves for service. He's going to have Nicolas kicked out, too.

“No, it's okay. He's one of Muriel's employees,” I say.

“Muriel who?”

“Muriel B.”

“The drunk girl, Boutonnière's daughter,” Marion explains. She's getting very annoyed with all this mess.

A waiter has arrived at our table.

“So…you know this man?” Joe asks again. “Do you know all the freaks that make it into my establishment?”

Nicolas steps toward me. He looks completely confused.

“We work together. He is all right,” I say.

Joe scratches his chin. Mmm? He turns to the waiter. “Offer the man a drink.” He turns to Nicolas. “Sorry, I thought you were a creep.”

“He's not a creep,” Marion says. “He is far too beautiful for that.”

I can feel Hubert's body tensing beside me.

“Come on, then! Have a drink. It's on me,” Joe repeats.

It's all so awkward.

“What would you like?” the waiter asks.

“What?”

“What drink would you like?”

Nicolas shakes his head. “I don't get you,” he says to me and walks away.

“Wow!” Joe laughs. “Who's in trouble now?”

“So, that's the
someone?
” Hubert asks.

I don't have time to answer Hubert. I abandon them and go after Nicolas. I hear Marion say, “It radiates from her.” And her voice disappears in the club noise.