21 Steps To Happiness

She looks at Nicolas and shakes her head. Then she looks at me.

“So, that’s all you had to say to him? Thank you for your help, Lynn.”

“Lynn might need more preparation.” Nicolas comes to my rescue again.

“Preparation! We have no time for preparation! We are broke, Nicolas! Broke!”

“I know. But we’ll find solutions. We always do.” He looks confident and calm but in a super-sexy kind of way.

She stares at him. She is about to eat him alive, bones and clothes included.

“Listen, Muriel,” I say hesitantly. “I didn’t come here to convince your brother to give you some money. I didn’t even know you were broke.”

That’s it, Lynn, swap responsibilities.

“Well, why don’t you explain to me why you are here!”

What? Is she serious?

“But…you’re the one who made me come here,” I stammer.

“She’s right,” Nicolas says and looks at me as if I was some sort of doom she had forced upon them. “Inviting Lynn was your call,” he reminds her, making it obvious he never wanted me here in the first place.

I feel the need to defend myself. “I came here to…”

To what?

“To…help you,” I try.

“Help me?” Muriel nearly shouts.

Think, Lynn. What do you mean by help her? How does she need your help? Remember what Roxanne said.

“Well, we all know…that…you’re just spending your father’s money for this…fantaisie…right?”

Oho, don’t go this way, Lynn! But it’s too late. I already am.

“And…this is just, like, a rich-dad-financing-his-daughter thing. Nobody really believes that you’re for real. So…I came here…to make people believe that you’re for real.”

Bravo moi!

They both look at me. Then they look at each other. It’s clear that she hasn’t been addressed like this…ever!

She is going to kill me. They are all going to kill me. She is going to press the ‘kill the ugly American bitch’ button on her intercom and a herd of gay Asian designers will pour into the office to crush me!

“Mais de quoi elle parle, celle la?” she yells out. “Do you listen to yourself?” She grabs the triangular gizmo and throws it at the poor Buddha.

“Muriel, calm down,” Nicolas says. “This is not the right time or the right place for one of your tantrums!”

He looks perfectly used to this. She yells. He hushes. She breaks. He fixes.

“Nicolas, tais toi!” She points at me. “You, you are coming with me!”

I must have hit a sensitive spot. She stands and leaves her office in a fury. I look up at the Buddha. I just want to check if he has opened his eyes, but no, he still pretends that he can meditate amidst such mayhem. I turn to Nicolas for an explanation but he just shrugs.

“I guess you better follow her. And, Lynn…”

“Yes?”

“I’ll need a copy of your CV, you know, for Pierre.”

Shit.

“Lynn!” Muriel yells all the way from the reception area.

I just want to go back to the hotel, take a last shower and return to the airport to catch the next plane home.

Paris. The city of love. Yeah right. It’s the city of people going bonkers!

I’ll just tell Jodie I caught the flu.

Or dysentery.

Jodie’s so scared of microbes, she’ll forgive me for giving up so fast.

I have no idea where we’re going. I have to run after Muriel and she makes a point of walking a few steps ahead, but then, all of a sudden, she stops and turns to me.

“I am not just spending my father’s money. I have been in this business for five years. I have talent! Everyone says that I have talent. So who are you to talk to me like that?”

I swear, she is about to cry. Just like the silly little teenage girl that she tries not to be.

“Muriel, I don’t want to play this game with you, we’re both too old.”

“What game?”

“The little-spoiled-girls game.”

“I’m not like this! I’m…I am just so stressed. Merde, tout va mal!”

She walks away. We’re on the run again, only this time I grab her wrist and stop her.

“Things are never as bad as they seem.”

“You’re wrong, Confucius! Things are generally much worse.”

Confucius?

I smile at her. I like her. She is wild but I like her. And she smiles back at me. She’s cute when she smiles.