Trouble finding Blondie (12 page)

While walking through the lounge sliding door, she gets on his case.

‘Wait, so you get special treatment at the check-in and lounge access. You probably even get special attention on the plane, even first class meals, but you really are sitting in a freaking economy seat just not to pay the extra?’

‘It’s the principle.’

‘No, I’m sorry. That is no principle. That is called being hypocritical. And I was under the impression this is some old fashioned stand up thing. It’s twisted. You are a 24-carat Jew! And I can’t believe I paid for your upgrade.’

Everybody was in a complete silence; nobody was moving. She finally took the card out of his hand, handed it to one of the desk personnel who, by now, was completely stunned.

‘Wait. No. Keep your God damn card! Ales, just give them the boarding passes. We are first class passengers. And you, Geoffrey Rothschild, are my guest.’

Everybody was still staring at Rothschild who was standing there frozen in shock. Simona didn’t lighten up. She was still fuming.

‘You look like you just had a stroke. And if you are not going to move any time soon, they will call the paramedics for you.’

Still nothing...

‘I’m going to have a drink now. You better move because I don’t need your stroke or heart attack on my consciousness for a nine hour flight.’

She didn’t even wait and walked into the lounge.”

❖ ❖ ❖

Andre was laughing so hard that when Oli and Rene arrived to the green, they started laughing too, just because it was comical when Andre couldn’t make his putt.

“Is this your strategy, Philippe? Distraction?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely!”

“Andre, what is so funny?”

Andre still couldn’t compose a sentence, so Philippe came to the rescue.

“I was telling him the story when Simona called someone a 24-carat Jew.”

“What? Was he a Jew?”

“Yep, a 24 carat one.”

Andre finally calmed down enough to make his putt, and they were off.

“You guys need to stop drinking. And pick up the pace.”

“Fully noted, picking up…”

“So, he finally gets into the lounge. Ales settles him in and goes after Simona to the bar to get some drinks.

‘Did he survive?’
 

‘He is still out of it, but I had a triple heart attack. 24-carat?’

‘I don’t know where I got that from, but it was certainly fitting.’

‘You better fix it before we board the plane.’

‘Fix it? All I can do is go talk to him. I’m not taking it back.’

‘Just go…'

‘Give me the water. You get the alcohol.’

Simona had empathy for his age and loneliness, but she wasn’t going to back down on her statement. You know her and her principles.

‘I’m not good at small talk and I want to make sure nothing gets lost in translation. Are you offended?’

‘Offended? Not sure. I don’t know what this is. I never felt this way. It’s like a shut down.’

‘Ok, let’s explore that. You are not used to being put in your place. Maybe it’s embarrassing?’

‘Maybe. I don’t know this feeling. It’s completely diminishing…'

‘Ok, fair enough. I did make you look less impressive. I give you denigrate, but not belittle. There is a difference.’

’24 carat Jew?’

‘Well, I’m only half, so I’m not a purebred. You are. That was just a confirmation of the obvious.’

‘Yes, but you meant it as all the stereotypical Jewish traits.’

‘And what’s wrong with those? They are ok in moderation. The definition of a trait is a distinguishing quality or characteristic. Last time I checked, quality is a positive noun.’

‘You basically called me cheap.’

‘And you are not? Just own it! If you want to be like that, stand up to it. Take the power out of it. Stop denying it. It’s not working.’

‘I guess I am…'

‘And you mean to tell me that this a breakthrough discovery for you today? Nobody ever called you that to your face?’

‘Everybody. But not to my face, behind my back.’

‘Never?’

‘Well, that’s not true, but not like this. Not constructively, only in anger.’

‘Ok, but there is a bigger lesson in here…’
‘I don’t think I can take more lessons today.’

‘This feeling you are having, what did you call it? Diminishing... That is the feeling that every person you yelled at had walking away from you, justified or not.’

‘Thank you, Simona.’

‘You are welcome, Geoffrey.’

Ales was standing beside them, holding drinks, speechless.

❖ ❖ ❖

“Are you paying attention to our score? This is going to be a good round. Considering that we have the last hole to play.” Philippe said.
 

“I wasn’t. You have been distracting me. Are we in the seventies?”

“Pretty sure. Don’t screw this one up.”

The final score was 73 for Andre and 74 for Philippe. Both of them were satisfied, in a great mood, and on the way to the bar.

“You are an amazing golfer. Did you grow up playing?” Andre asked.
 

“Yes, but I didn’t play for many years. No time, no discipline, too much fun. You?”

“No. I’m a late bloomer. But my dream is the PGA Senior Tour. Gotta wait till I’m 50 for that.”

“Brilliant. I love that. I will be your caddy at the majors.”

“Deal. Maybe your entertaining gene would keep me relaxed,” Andre smiled.

“Ok, let me finish my broadcast before the rest get here for lunch.”
 

Andre ordered Pinot Grigio, and Philippe motioned to the bartender to make that two.

“Where was I? Oh, yes. She asked Geoffrey who I was…

‘That asshole may be your new boss.’ He said it with a smirk, like check mate at a chess game.

Simona was obviously thrilled. ‘Story of my life, I must have it on my forehead.’

‘Why? What did you do? Call him a Jew?’

‘I see you are getting your humor back.’

‘Just for the record, he isn’t.’

‘You really think I can’t tell the difference?’

And while this conversation was going on, I was dragged by our Aussie host Rupert to meet his friend’s protege. ‘Let me do the honors and introduce you to the lady everyone is whispering about.’

‘Well, Uncle Rupert, are they whispering about her ASSets or her dress?’

I knew that would irritate the shit out of her, but she didn’t back down. ‘Yes, Mr. Arrogant Rich, I remember.’

‘Pleasure was not just yours, Sassy Red. And after that visual, I have a whole new appreciation for caviar.’

‘You two know each other?’

‘Yes, we go waaaaay back.’

Rupert was confused, but Geoffrey was having a ball. I have to admit, it was a side of him I never knew before. Needless to say, she purposely avoided me the whole evening, but she was… what’s the word I am looking for…ravishing. Yes, that’s it. She was glowing, sexy, aware of her dress and the attention. And she was getting it, and then some. I completely forgot about my date. I just kept staring at her the whole evening.”

“And she didn’t notice?”

“Oh no, she knew. She was very aware of it. She was enjoying every minute of it. She had that look of ‘I will stare you down as long as you want’. And me? I kept coming for more until we both stood across a room full of people, acknowledging the game we started playing. Somehow it relaxed me, and I went to get dessert. When I came back, poof, she was gone and her entourage, too. I was like a kid who lost a toy.”

Andre was staring at Philippe, somehow realizing that the funny story turned into foreplay for them. This was a fine line, and Philippe was aware that he was playing with fire.

“I didn’t know this at the time - she told me much later - it was a month after your breakup. The stress caused her some weight loss. That’s why she was so lean, with zero fat anywhere. She was so tiny that a looser dress would cover her bump. Instead, she was flaunting it. What I didn’t know then was that she only knew about her pregnancy for maybe a month.”

“That’s accurate. She said she had found out already three months into it.”

“Well, my evening mood came to a bust. I walked to the old duo and told them to set up the meeting. Got her full name, called my people, and went to bed.”

“So, she was happy about being pregnant?”

“Not happy. Ecstatic! And it showed. She was vivacious, overflowing, unstoppable…”

“What did you find out?”

“Well, I had a full report, but I had no clue where she was staying. Rothschild was at Murdoch’s, but our mystery couple wasn’t. The very next day I had a brunch meeting at the Four Seasons hotel, close to Hyde park. It was a nice day, so I decided to walk. I was lost in my thoughts when a damsel in tights walked quickly passed me.”

“Power walking with weights?”

“That’s the one. It annoyed me, threw me off for whatever reason, so I sped up. Her feet were moving so fast that I was jogging, and she didn’t slow down through the whole park.”

“You were fascinated by her speed or her perky ass?”

“Both. She finally got out of the park, walked straight through the traffic, making the cars stop for her. She bowed and waved, sending kisses, while the drivers just smiled back. This is London, not Tuscany. People don’t do that.”

“Did you finally figure out who she was?” Andre was getting impatient.
 

“No, she had a hat on. It took me forever to cross the road, and when I finally did, and ran all the way to catch her, I saw her entering the Four Seasons hotel to my great surprise.”

Oli and Rene walked in, announcing that the rest of the gang was right behind. Everybody got seated, shared score cards. The whole group was impressed with Andre. They didn’t expect him to be such a good golfer.

“How did the duel go? You didn’t kill each other, but we heard your yapping was holding us back,” Jacques complained.
 

“Wait. That was just on one hole, and because Rene made a birdie, they caught up,” Philippe was playing opposition.

“It was actually an eagle.” Olivier corrected Philippe’s statement, not to take anything away from his shy partner.

Rene was Madame Bonnet’s son, a promising junior and Philippe’s proud protege. He loved him for his humble personality, and as Simona says ‘Mother raised him well’.

“Hang on. What was it that you clowns were laughing about? Andre was bending over at the waist, he couldn’t even putt.” Olivier remembered.

Now, everyone was curious.

“Well, it’s a long story, but Andre wanted to know how Simona and I met,” Philippe explained.

“Did you tell him how she fooled you about the belly?”

“Really, Jacques? Nobody said bring out the embarrassing stories. We were talking about funny stories.”

That set Jacques off. “Let me do the honors, please. So, Philippe is chasing an ass. Cute, tight, perky...”

“We got the picture, move on.”

“Manon, I love you. You can be jealous, not bitter. Got it?”

“Shut up and move on with the story. Without your sexual explications.”

“No. There are six men and two women here. And I’m pretty sure Naomi loves my sexy voice and talk, so if we take a vote right now, it would be seven against one. In that case, you can either go with the flow, or go to the bathroom.”

“You are lucky I like you, you chauvinistic Giacomo Casanova.” Manon finally gave in.
 

Andre leaned over to Philippe, “How does he do that? She scares me shitless.”

“Manon is, ehm, a tough feminist,” Philippe whispered back.

“Ok, where was I?” Jacques continued. “Oh, yes, he is following her all the way to the hotel like a creepy stalker.”

“No, no, no. I had a meeting in that hotel.” Philippe protested.

“Oh, bullshit. You had only one agenda, and that was getting a phone number for that ass.”

“I already had her number.”

“Yes, but you had no clue who she was until she turned around.”

“Then what happened? Did she recognize you?” Naomi loved stories. She used a lot of their experiences in her books.

“She recognized him. They met the night before. You know their caviar story, right?”

“Oh, yeah. That one is priceless. How was it… Arrogant rich and Sassy red?”

“Bravo, Maurice, glad you are paying attention at the Bouchard sleepovers.” Jacques was relentless.

Everyone was laughing, the mood was great, and they all ordered drinks and food.

“Com’on Jacques, finish the story.”

“Naomi, you know you can’t ever write this shit up. We will all come to hurt you.”

“No worries, Philippe. I would make you poor and ugly on some steps of a hostel. Nobody would have a clue that it’s you.”

Philippe looked at Andre, Oli, Rene, around the whole table. He realized he was missing a key player. The major player, the one that calms him down, makes him laugh, and matters to him the most. He couldn’t help but feel sadness, realizing that things would be changing.