Chapter 12
At 45, Rachel Staunton was a force of nature. Stepping off the train from Nice, she looked like she had just stepped out of a salon, instead of getting off of a five and a half hour train ride from the south of France. Her hair, worn tight against her head, was perfect, not a strand out of place, showing off her round face. Her makeup was impeccable, lipstick and cheekbones by the book. You had to be intimate with her to see the depth of powder and concealer that covered the dark circles under her eyes and fine wrinkles in the corners of her eyes and mouth and Rachel Staunton would never let someone get that close to her.
Alex sat casually on the bench watching her direct a porter who was gathering up a couple of bags and putting them on a cart. The grand lady herself only seemed to carry a purse, in her hand rather than slung over her shoulder, so as not to wrinkle the cream silk blouse she was wearing. Alex was certain that her bra was of the finest quality, even if it made her breasts seem less than natural in the way they did not move under her silk as she walked.
He immediately did not like her. There was something artificial about her that just put his hackles up. Monique would have said it was his bullshit meter working overtime and she was probably right. Someone who took that much care with their appearance was hiding something, some imperfection, some character flaw that needed fine clothes and expensive makeup to cover. Her hair was blonde, but he suspected that was one of the few natural things about her. The subtle shadings could not be achieved by the hands of anyone but a true artist and even then, he doubted that she would have allowed it. No, her hair was her one true possession which made Alex wonder why she wore it so severely restricted. Samantha had just welcomed her boss back to Paris and they were talking, not as friends but business colleagues, their postures formal and Samantha was deferring as needed. It was almost funny to watch. Alex did his best not to laugh or draw attention to himself. Samantha had wanted him to come with her, but had suggested it was best not to introduce him to her boss at the station.
They had taken an hour, earlier in the day, to move most of Samantha's things back to the Marriot. It was window dressing to make things look appropriate and now, looking at the two of them, he agreed that it had been a good decision. Rachel and Monique would clash like fire and water he was sure and he was also sure that Monique would come out on top. Rachel struck him as someone who always had to be in charge and he knew Monique well enough to know that she always was in charge. He had watched Monique fence with some of the great names in fashion and in the end they always did what she wanted. He had no doubt that this would be the case again. And with Monique championing Samantha, he expected that the working relationship with Rachel would either fall apart completely or be a much stronger one. That would depend solely on Rachel's ego, something Alex had no doubt would need a porter to carry around if it had been a physical thing.
He watched the two of them exit the platform and head into the main station. It was his cue to leave as well. Dinner was at 7:30 and he still had to get back to his apartment and change in to something more appropriate. Having seen the lady, he now knew the role he had to play. She would only accept another professional and Alex was sure he could play the part of a professional. He only wondered if he had a clean shirt as he descended into the Metro for the short ride home.
Chapter 13
"Alexander, you old fraud," Monique said as he bent down to kiss her cheek once she was settled into her chair. Greg was already moving around to the driver's side as Alex steered Monique to the front of the restaurant where Samantha and Rachel had so recently entered. Alex had watched them go in from a discrete distance while watching for Monique's car. They had arranged it so that Samantha would get seated and comfortable before Monique made her entrance. The restaurant was Monique's choice, one that she frequented and knew her well. Nothing like having home field advantage.
"Good evening to you Monique. Now what did I do?" Alex asked as they waited for Greg to return from parking the car.
"You, in a suit darling. I did not even know you owned one."
"I don't. I had to borrow this one from Martin."
"Alexander, do not lie to an old lady. There is no way you could squeeze your height into a suit Martin might own, and there is no way it would not gape at the waist, even if you did. It looks good on you by the way. Remind me the next time Karl is in town and we will get him to fit you for a couple of new ones."
"Yes Monique. I buy one suit a year and there is no way I could afford to look at a Lagerfeld, much less actually have the man fit me for one, but I thank you for the introduction anyway."
"Oh pooh. You can afford several solely on the crumbs you let me pay you," she said.
Alex held his tongue, Greg's arrival providing him the opportunity to change the topic before Monique got herself wound up. As much as he would like to own a Lagerfeld, he hated wearing suits and would never get the value out of it.
"Shall we go into dinner then?" Alex asked as Greg opened the door for them.
"Madame DuMaurie, bon soir! Monsieur Gilcrest how are you sir? And Alex, my friend, you have been away? I have not seen you in forever.
"Good evening Guy," Monique said, as she accepted his kisses before the maitre d' hugged Greg as an old friend. Alex was quickly looking around the room, finding Samantha with his eyes as she faced out from the wall, Rachel had turned slightly in her chair looking at the commotion, as were most of the patrons in the restaurant.
"I have a table ready for you. Right this way. The Sommelier?" he asked as Alex maneuvered Monique's chair around the patrons in the crowded restaurant, stopping now and then as Monique saw people she knew and had to say hello. In some ways, it was like a procession and Monique was making the most of it. Alex was trying hard to keep a straight face, saying his hellos to the people that he knew at each stop they made. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Samantha, also trying hard not to smile, her water glass held in front of her, shielding her face. He thought it slightly odd that there were no wine glasses on the table.
As they approached their table, Monique, with casual ease, swung her head to look where Samantha was sitting, and exclaimed, "Samantha, darling, there you are! I thought we were having dinner this evening." Alex was already pushing her that way, people politely moving their chairs out of the way so that she could get closer to the table. Samantha, for her part had stood up and slid out between the tables to stand a little ahead of Rachel's chair as Alex brought Monique's chair to a halt.
"Bon soir, Monique. Ca va?" Samantha said.
"Bien, chérie! Tres bien. You have been practicing, oui?" Monique said with a grin.
