Ir-re-me-di-a-ble: Unable to Be Changed

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Her own Pied-à-terre, Paris

Of course, Lu never heard from Leo. As she sat in the Le Meurice bar with Nigel, they had not watched the time. It got late before either noticed. A couple of rogues had approached. But mostly, they planned and talked unbothered. At one am, she glared up at the clock fiercely. “Perhaps he suffered a heart attack or got ill.” No doubt of his excuses.

“He will,” Nigel promised. Not a fan when Lu took bullshit from any man.

She peered out into the darkness. “I do wish,” she started to say. Then stopped. “I would rather not spend any more time here alone on a bar stool.”

Nigel nodded his head. He agreed.

“Will you walk me up?” she asked. “I can stay at my place here tonight.”

“Oui cherie.” Anything for Lu. He snagged another bottle of bubbly as they walked through the bar. And they were on their way.

Lu’s Cartier apartment was attached to Le Meurice. An old multi-floor affair, it was all quite extraordinary. It was entirely full of original fixtures and furniture. Here she had a music room with a grand piano. A library, walls lined with a massive collection of books. And sparkly crystal chandeliers hung in most rooms. It had been used as the location of her first Cartier catalog photo shoot several months earlier. Everyone stayed here with her. The models. The production crew. Technicians. The entire top floor was composed of small, dorm-like rooms. Obviously for the help, back in the day. She loved being able to host the group. The huge kitchen was the site of late night huddles where they ate, drank, and talked till dawn. Possibly the rest of their next catalog shoot would follow along that same line again. She loved the memories of that time.

Year round occupancy of the apartment was assured through her Cartier contract. And, in readiness, was scheduled to be cleaned and fluffed weekly by the Le Meurice staff. As she and Nigel walked in, the bed was being made up for her and towels laid out in the bathrooms. Fresh flowers were on the mantle. How had he managed that?

She put a tentative hand on Nigel’s arm. “Stay. I want you to be near.” The second master suite was made up for him. Everything was fresh, which even included pressed pejamez. PJs. “Thank you, Nigel.”

He hugged her and bid her, “Goodnight darling.” And added, “We will straighten this all out in the morning. I promise. It’ll get all sorted.”

By the time he settled into bed, he had already read the first message from his spotter.

At this moment, Leo was firmly ensconced inside the American Embassy with Mrs. Wright. It was barely down the street on Avenue Gabriel. Nigel had half a mind to go over there and straighten this whole mess out right now. He knew the doorman. Instead, he tried to think up apt punishment, which was the same as counting sheep. He fell asleep.

In the morning Leo did message. “Driver scheduled for the airfield and back to Greece. ETD one hour if you want to ride along.”