So I spent Saturday and Sunday at my boyfriend’s—clothing optional. Best weekend ever!
I was looking forward to get back in the trenches with Enrique to finish our secret deal, when Nico grabbed me for lunch. I knew from the moment she interrupted Enrique and I that something was up.
She took me to a very nice place. You know, the kind of place you would never go to alone—or if you were paying yourself. My Spidey-sense was tingling even though she was all smiles and cleavage. She asked how things were going. I responded nothing had changed since Friday, my last day at work. There was some pleasantries, which really seemed unusual. Not that my boss isn’t pleasant, but it just not like her to do surfacey small talk—or beat around the bush. None of her questions had any depth like I was often worried about from her.
She asked how Vancouver was. I said it was quite nice, really wanting to get back to Enrique and work. Then out of the blue, “Have you ever been to Milan?” I remember thinking at the time it was weird she was worried about asking me to go somewhere else on short notice. I am at least learning how things go around here. I answered a simple no. While I did want to go to Milan, I didn’t want to go there now. It’s like she forgot I’m part of a team hammering out a merger for her company. We stopped talking to eat.
Once the food was gone and replaced by drinks, Nico dropped whatever premise she had been working under. She asked point-blank if I could go to Milan. I wasn’t sure if this was another clandestine mission or even what it was for. And despite really wanting to visit northern Italy I still asked why. She said it would be a personal favour to her, though I never heard her say I was free to not go. I just realized that now writing this down.
I asked about my work on the merger. She said it was going through legal and I’d be back at it next week for final tweaks. It wasn’t the work I really didn’t want to miss. I’d just had a very hot weekend with my boyfriend. I was hoping to build on that since I had a sneaking suspicion that said boyfriend might not be available for the next two days starting with “S”.
I changed my tone, “What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to accompany my friend”, she paused looking concerned, then continued, “who is representing our company.” She added very quietly, “While it still is our company.”
Free trip to Milan with a friend of my boss, it didn’t sound like a bad way to spend a couple of days. “Who?” I think the pieces fell into place and I realized who as I finished my one word question.
“Eva Wilder.” She said it like I should know who she was. As if I’d know her BFF, that I totally worshipped in high school. A celebrity debutante whose sole skill was marketing herself to millions of young girls like me—and achieving newer and more original wardrobe malfunctions in incredible exotic locations. She was my first girl crush. When I wasn’t wishing I was her, I was wishing I was next to her. A few days with the legendary Eva Wilder and I would be able to cross things off my bucket list—and probably my purity list.
“Sure.”
My boss’ response was much less restrained than mine. I didn’t mind the hug, but the champagne shower from her tipping glass I could have skipped. I guess it was practice for partying with my teen idol! After a three drink lunch I was sent home to pack. I practically skipped the whole way back to my apartment, except when that kid looked at me like I was crazy, not then.
I have idolized Eva since junior high. She was in magazines and appeared in TV shows and movies. I mean, in actuality her appearances weren’t that great. But pictures of her topless on a yacht in the Caribbean or Mediterranean surrounded by buff guys really set me on a path of art and fashion. It’s probably why I wanted the internship at BCC so much. It meant I’d work for two of her friends and maybe see them in the building…and then if I was really lucky I’d maybe see or even get to meet HER!
On the flipside I never got through her leaked diary. It’s not that it was poorly written or dull, but it was just full of sexy time. I’ve heard that my bosses make appearances in it, but I never got that far before I had to give it back to my friend. She had borrowed it from her sister who had to go back to college. Kind of wished I had picked it up later.
Alicia caught me packing. After scaring me half to death, she asked where I was going this time. I told her and we hugged and screamed like we had won the lottery. Are you going alone, she asked. No, I’d be accompanying someone. I treaded across this lightly knowing my roommate did not share Amber or my’s fascination of the celebutante I was to chaperone.
“One of your bosses?”
“Nope.”
“That Enrique guy…again?”
“No.” She could sense my evasiveness. I was mimicking Nico, my boss.
“So no one I know?”
“Yes and no.” My evasiveness had been my undoing.
“Who is it?”
“Eva Wilder!”
“That nasty girl!” I was hit by a look that did critical damage. “You better pack some penicillin then.” The room had gotten very awkward. Finally Alicia broke out into laughter. I starting laughing too, though I wasn’t really sure why.
My roommate, unlike me, had read the whole book. I was never sure when she was telling me real details from the book or just winding me up. A foursome for New Years Eve?!? And it didn’t help that Amber would often join in the teasing—over drinks. Alicia with her constant references to group sex and Amber making up lots of lesbian encounters. As if!
Sometime while packing, or maybe a bottle of wine, I got this weird text from an unknown number. At first I thought it might have been Todd with his iMessage not working. A green text bubble with five question marks. I ignored it and continued drinking and packing as Alicia made up outlandish stories that allegedly happened to my teen-aged girl crush.
I didn’t sleep at all that night. So much going through my head. A crazy week followed by another crazy week. I spent the weekend at my boyfriend’s after an eye-opening night at a fetish party. Athen a short trip across the continent, where the joggers are very polite—and hot. Now I was going to spend a few days with someone I wanted to be since high school.
I showered and spent too much time trying to figure out what to wear to met my idol. Alicia, though not totally liking who I was going to spent the next few days with, helped me with my hair after pointing me to a dress that was both stylish and comfortable for transatlantic travel. She wished me well. She told me to enjoy myself. And then just like that my phone rang. It was my boss. She was waiting for me down in front of my building.
I ran down with my one carry-on bag. See Enrique, I was listening to how I should be travelling with as little as possible and avoiding the luggage carousel. I was a bit disappointed she was alone in the back of the car. That was until she told me we were going to pick Eva up. I had butterflies in my stomach.
On the way over Nico told me to check my phone when we landed. The itinery would be uploaded to my calendar and I was to get Ms Wilder to her meet and greets. I was supposed to make sure she got back to her hotel in one piece. My boss jokingly apologized for the beating my liver might take. I think that’s when it dawned on me that I was going to be her friend’s handler. Never mind the imagined shenanigans my friends made up, the actual reported misdemeanours fleetingly washed over me. Sex tapes, DUIs, topless sunbathing in Muslim countries…
And then the car stopped outside an impressive building. Nico called her friend. I was giddy with excitement. And ten long minutes later I saw my idol come out of the her building. From a distance she looked just like she had been when I was a teen-ager. A doorman opened the door as the driver put her bags, all four of them, in the trunk. She kissed my boss then stopped and noticed me. Up close she had aged well. Her blonde hair was shorter, but still to her shoulders. She offered her hand and introduced herself as if I didn’t know who she was. I introduced myself to her. She said my name, Alex, like she was trying it on. Then she leaned across Nico to kiss me on both cheeks before sitting back into her seat. After that introduction she didn’t speak to me in the car again.
I had been reluctant to wear the dress Alicia has suggested. It was one of my shorter ones. I called it barely-business since it wasn’t just above the knee, but really mid-thigh. I felt like a school marm looking at the two older women gossiping next to me. I was used to Nico’s dresses starting where mine ended, but I think Eva’s started where my risqué boss’ ended. I was glad it was dark in the back of the car and I tied to not look down.
I didn’t mind hiding quietly next to them on the short ride to the airport. I was anxious knowing an a short while I’d be alone with Eva Wilder. Nico walked with us right up to the security checkpoint. They hugged and kissed each other and the next thing I knew I was walking into a first class lounge with a bonafide celebrity.
Ms. Wilder grabbed my hand as we walked through to a cute little area that served food well out of my tax bracket like a high school cafeteria. Eva had no problems telling me what was good and what to avoid, like we were old friends. Sigh!
She found a table to her liking. They were all low coffee tables and I sat on a couch opposite her. I got quite an eyeful as she sat down. I had just seen more of my girl crush than I think one would ever want to…and we hadn’t even boarded the plane. I tried to remember some of the tales Alicia or Amber had said about my companion. That was interrupted by polite small talk.
I will point out, I can imagine why Nico sends her BFF to smooge with people. And then I was telling her my life story, heavily referencing her and possibly embellishing stuff by innuendo to as not sound as lame as I was. At no point did I find her judgemental. She just smiled and crossed her legs while I tried not to babble. It wasn’t until we were on the plane that I realized she was probably hung over.
And once on the plane she stretched out and put her seat back. I could describe the sight, but then I’d have to wash my eyes and hands afterward. I remember a few times on the flight thinking Amber would have loved the view. The attendants who seemed to know Eva by name practically ignored her obscene cat stretches. Maybe this was the time at which I should have realized what the next few days would have been like—and that I really should have read her diary all the way through.
It was a quick trip from the airport to our hotel. And I have to admit, whatever state she was in her Italian was buonissimo. She was pleasant, but quiet even as we checked into our suite.
Yes, the suite. My family home growing up might not have been as big as that hotel room. We each had our own rooms, thank God. Eva had the master with the great view, she showed me it. I had my own room with an ensuite. There was another bedroom I think, and then a huge kitchen and great room. I’m sure this is what Heaven must look like. She told me she ordered some room service and to wake her when it came up.
Half an hour later there was a knock on the door and a good-looking boy wheeled in a cart with what I would later find out were Eva’s two main food groups, meat and champagne. It was at that point I realized I had just gone across the Atlantic and hadn’t showered yet. The boy didn’t seem to mind…my dress. Too bad he missed the person I was babysitting I thought. He certainly took his time leaving.
I went to tell Eva her food was here. I knocked on her door with no response. I knocked a second time before reasoning that if the door was slightly ajar that it would be OK for me to enter her room. As I approached her bed I saw that she was fast asleep. I leaned over her, not sure if I should wake her or let her sleep. She looked so angelic. Then as I wrestled with that decision she opened her eyes. I’m not sure who was more surprised. I’ll go with me, doubly so when she realized her room service was here and jumped out of bed—completely naked. It was the way she’d spend most of our time in the suite. Oh Amber, you so missed out.
The next day and a half was quite a trial. It was hard getting her up…and moving…and to appointments. That sleepy, easy hung over disposition was replaced by a stubborn and bratty girl who frequently violated my personal space regardless of whether she was happy or upset with me. Did I mention she was very mercurial, or in the immortal words of Katy Perry, hot and then cold. But with the VIPs she met she was all smiles and kisses. And she was dangerously charming. She charmed middle-aged gay men and older women—and of course every straight man in visual sight. She insisted in dressing me to compliment her. I didn’t care so much about her dressing me as a Barbie doll. What made me uncomfortable was was her penchant for doing so in the raw and her not so innocent pawing. It was the first meeting with Nico in the storeroom all over again, now with touch-o-vision. It was made even more uncomfortable by the love-hate relationship I was developing on my former teen idol.
Eighteen hours after landing and as many wardrobe malfuctions—some of which were actually unintended—later, she went beyond cute and annoying to totally off the rails. With two more days of brand ambassadoring left in the fashion capital of the world, she rented a car and shanghaied me to France. At least I hope she rented it.
This is the point where I realized I never had any control over her. It’s also when I remembered this trip wasn’t a reward, but a favour. And now I knew why. I longed for the time we had just landed and my biggest problem was my girl crush running around naked in our suite.
Five hours later we were 270 miles away from where we should have. There were moments when the ride in the Ferrari was fun. Like when she cajoled me to drive after a bathroom break. It didn’t last long though, and I was a bit relieved she took the steering wheel back. I was not relieved that we were in the wrong country or that were about to miss a meeting with very important people. That was until I saw the sea.
And then I forgot that I was being kidnapped by the woman I was supposed to be babysitting—in a red supercar with only the clothes I had on. Crap! That last bit was somewhat ironic since I had fantasies of buying a bunch of great clothes while in Milan. Even more ironic when Eva double parked the Ferrari by the beach and realized the same thing. Running after her I was sure this was the end of my short career at BCC.
She had run into a store and was already pulling stuff off the wall. And by stuff I mean swimsuits. And by swimsuits I mean strings of floss joining postage stamp-sized fabric triangles. She handed me a hanger with someone on it that I would have been embarrassed to wear in the shower let alone in public. Eva told me it was my size as a clerk ‘rang’ it plus a handful of other she had in her hand.
She insisted we change in the store and then would walk to her favourite beach club. Changing in the small room with her was bad enough, but her cupping and bouncing my boobs to show she was right about my size was borderline humiliating. No, at least that happened in private.
The most humiliating thing that happened up to that point was a walk from the shop to her club. It may have been across the street, but I think I’d have rather have done a walk of shame past my parent’s house than crossing the six lanes of road in that white thong and heels. No one else seemed to be upset by it. Eva even proudly told me the honking was a little bit for me. It had the opposite effect that I think she intended.
She got me into a very exclusive beach resort on the French Riviera—and told them to retrieve her car. I was very sure I wasn’t just going to be fired, but also possibly put in jail. Two hours later, I was hammered on Moet-Chandon and protecting my swimsuit from a crazy celebrity intent on making me as topless as she was.
I was so tired. Not just of running away from Eva and her cult intending to denude me, but of everything. Tired of having Todd on his schedule. Tired of resisting the non-advances of Enrique. Tired of working in secret of undoing a company that I thought I was so lucky to get into. So tired of running away from everything. I just wanted to stop. I did care anymore. Maybe I should just let it wash over me and stop worrying about things I couldn’t control and people I couldn’t fix. I needed the courage to be the person I wanted to be, instead of the person I had become. I was as far away from that naive girl just out of college as I was from the women I was surrounded by.
So I stopped and let them wash over me. A girl ten years older than me waved my bikini top over her head like a trophy and I was just too tired—and drunk—to care. And the really funny thing was that not only did the world not stop, but that it didn’t care. Well actually a few other party goers did care, but in a strangely very self-esteem lifting way. I surrendered to the juvenile antics of a celebrity and partied like I belonged among them at the beach paradise.
The next morning I woke up with a killer headache. Eva’s arms were wrapped around me. I quickly got up and decided to take a shower while I tried to take a sober appraisal of the situation. I figured if I could get her back to Milan I might be able to salvage a few appointments and at least avoid jail time. It was wandering around in a towel that I realized my current complete wardrobe consisted of nothing but a pair of bikini bottoms, that converted between a thong and a G-string.
I can not describe the relief I had to see our dresses from the swimwear place on a chair. Not the first time I’d put on a dress that I had worn the day before. But before I did that, I had to get my famous party girl up, showered, and ready to be driven back to Milan. Eva enjoyed the shower much more than I did, doubly for the towel drying. Her hair was still wet as I hustled her to the lobby and asked for the keys to the magic red bullet that was going to take us to a closing dinner ceremony.
The whole stay would be sorted out as by Eva’s usual arrangements. I literally dragged her to the front and we waited for the car. I looked at her in her silly party dress. She was tired too. I could see it. Everything that had happened in the last 24 hours was a repeat of something that had happened before. I didn’t want to be trapped in an endless cycle regardless of how awesome others thought it might be. I wanted to grow and make mistakes, and this trip had been one big mistake. In ten years time I didn’t want to be doing the same things I was doing now.
I guess I had that to thank Eva for. And then on cue she flashed the valet’s something they had all probably seen before. She slept on the way back to our suite. I was seriously hurting by that point. Hung over, long drive and possibly sunstroke on places that had never before seen direct sunlight. She was quiet as I marched her back up to our room.
This time she showered alone and I picked out her clothes. At this rate we’d only be a little late, which I guess for her is on time .We would have only missed one actual meeting. I gave her tea as I quickly freshened up and then dragged her down to the lobby. We met our driver and were on our way.
She looked at me, but it was hard to tell what she was thinking. I didn’t care at that point. I was going to get her to the dinner and then drag her back to New York. I’d apologize to Nico and tell her I did the best I could, but her friend was totally out of control. Actually, I’d leave out the last bit. It sounded like I was trying to absolve myself from my responsibilities.
As we walked through the gala’s front door Eva finally realized that I had put her in on of my conservative dresses. She still looked too hot to handle—leopards don’t change their spots, but she was much more respectable than any of the other dresses she brought with her. Then looking at me a smile appeared on her face. She noticed that I had taken one of her dresses—and was wearing it very well if I said so myself. I didn’t have to compliment myself since Eva did—in slightly cruder words.
By the end of the night everyone was crowded around her. They were getting pictures and autographs of her wearing my $20 online ordered stretchy dress. I entertained a smaller crowd wearing her $5000 Versace one. In the end, it had been a good night. My dress had minimized, though not eliminated, her far too frequent wardrobe malfunctions. Eva was intoxicated, and drunk, as I practically carried her back to our suite.
I had half a mind to dump her in the shower or just leave her lying on the floor. That was just rude though. Instead, I gave her some sparkling water and took my dress back after putting her to bed. I made my way back to my room, took off Eva’s dress, and set my alarm.
The next morning I woke up, showered and packed my suitcase. Eva’s party dress might have found it’s way into my carry-on bag. I stopped and looked at the white thong I had been given in St Tropez. I threw it towards the garbage can. It missed it landed near the pillow. I walked over and held it up. It wasn’t who I was, but it also wasn’t who I had been. I wasn’t sure it was who I wanted to become, but it was something. Tired, drunk, whatever…I had done something. Something not planned or carefully analyzed. I had no expectations—other than getting fired—and just went with it. I didn’t die and what I remembered had actually been fun—if it had been someone else. I rolled the bikini bottoms up and put them in my bag.
I put on a tank top and a pair of capris then woke my sleeping roommate when the breakfast arrived. I sent Eva to the shower and laid out a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt for our trip back. There was a moment as she processed the attire waiting for her before she dropped her towel and put on my clothes. I made her respectable, but not too respectable for the flight back. There was still some Eva Wilder controversy poking out. I knew she had a reputation to maintain after all.
She gave me a hug—and a kiss—and then we made our way down to the car that took us to the airport. The cabin staff were shocked by Eva’s almost respectability, and very comfortable attire. We both slept most of the flight.
Nico met us at the airport. She greeted Eva more like a long-lost spouse than a friend. She sauntered up and with a broad grin gave me a bone-crushing hug. I whisper in her ear that things had not gone exactly as planned. She consolingly said she knew. That really should have worried me more than it did.
My boss walked me to a car to take me home. Eva gave me kisses on my cheeks and said we’d be in touch. I was sure I couldn’t handle a few more days with her. I was also sure she’d never get in touch with me again. Nico again gave me a hug and said she was proud of me. I confessed again that I had screwed up that Eva drove us to France and I missed a meeting with a client and…
She put a finger to my lips and said that I had done much better than she expected in keeping her friend on course. One of us was very confused. I had thought I had failed miserably and my boss seemed impressed by it. It was apparently me. Just as she was about to close the door on my car, I asked her how she knew things had gone off the rails. She stopped and texted something to me.
It was a picture. Her caption under the picture said “St Tropez?!?” I clicked on the picture and dropped my phone on the floor. I picked it up and came to terms with it. It was a screen grab of a celebrity website. The headline read, “Eva Wilder lets it hang out with mystery blonde.” The picture was of her—and I—horsing around…our chests blurred out. It was not the fifteen minutes of fame I was looking for and Monday in the office would be interesting. And by interesting I mean unbearable.
On the way back I saw the other texts I missed while I was away. In the repetition department was my boyfriend’s poor attempts at humour. Also strangely, he wasn’t available this weekend. Very tired. Then just as I pulled up to my building I noticed a text from that unknown number again. It read “who R U?” I blocked it, so tired.
The apartment was dark and quiet as I snuck in. I left my case in the living room. In my quiet room I took off my capris, tank top and bra then climbed into bed. I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
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