“Yeah, apparently Tom is too busy to take you.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. Here,” he said, offering me his cell phone. It was already ringing Jason.
“Yo!” I heard.
o;Pic ops. I doubt we’ll be put in any of the press, but Jason said we have to dress up anyway.”
“What! I didn’t bring anything!”
“Jason took care of that.”
January
We reached our rooms at ten in the morning and I was only slightly freaking out that I could or could not be photographed and might or might not be put into print, immortalized forever as the slob who obviously dressed from a duffel bag for the largest music festival in Europe, but Tom assured me that Jason had that all figured out so I decided not to freak out...too much.
“Ready?” Tom asked me as I opened my door to him.
Tom had been acting very strangely, resorting to wearing his hood over his head again and I was slightly concerned at how ice-cold he’d been acting toward me, but I wasn’t going to let this get to me. He would come to me and talk when he was ready.
“Yeah, where are we going?” I asked.
“Here,” he said, handing me a note and a handful of cash before walking off.
I peered down at my hands. “Wait!” I said laughing. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve got some business to attend to.”
“Some business to tend to,” I mocked his deep voice. “Sorry little missus, this big man has things to do I wouldn’t tax your tiny lady mind with. I got this.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes. Condescending jerk. “It’s nothing to do with the label, January. It’s personal.”
“Oh,” I said. “All right, can I just come with you then?” I asked, grabbing his hand.
“No,” he said, pulling away, wounding me. “Uh,” he said, clearing his throat. “Listen, Jason’s waiting for you.”
“And I take it you don’t need new threads then?”
“No, well, yes, but Jason’s got my measurements. I trust him. I’ve gotta go. Have fun,” he told me before taking off down the corridor.
I just stared after him, wondering what in the hell crawled up his butt. Then I ogled his rude butt and thought, "nice ass" but shook myself and remembered that he needed a swift kick there not an appreciative stare.
I went back inside, grabbed my purse and hailed a cab.
“Où aller?” the cabbie asked me.
I looked down at the paper in my hand and almost keeled over in happiness, recognizing the name of one of Paris’ most elite and most gorgeous department stores, Galeries Lafayette.
Ten stories high, the store can be found on Boulevard Haussmann, and oh my Lord it is just unbelievably decadent. I couldn’t wait to go there. Sometimes working for the label really paid off, but sometimes...
Le sigh. Oh well.
Jason was outside the front doors smoking a cigarette when I pulled up. He reminded me of home. Seeing him, coupled with Tom’s cold demeanor and missing my family like crazy, I unexpectedly burst into tears. I don’t know why I did it. I just needed a friend in that moment it seemed, and it had been weeks since I’d seen a friendly face from home. I was overwhelmed, I suppose. That and I didn’t know what was going on with Tom.
When Jason saw me he smiled but saw my tear-soaked face and threw down his cigarette. I ran to his arms and threw them around his neck.
“Oh, Jason,” I wailed pathetically in his ear.