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Post by Lets_Eat_Paste on Aug 18, 2011 13:45:52 GMT -6
Le Meurice is the image of opulence. In the past, the hotel has catered to artists from Salvador Dali to Beyonce. The multilingual staff is among the most hospitable in all Paris. If you can afford to stay here, you won't regret the lavish and pampering getaway! |
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Post by Lets_Eat_Paste on Dec 30, 2011 21:53:25 GMT -6
OoC: Rafael/Simone! BiC:
Rafael Lamaroux
It was snowing in constant streams outside, but, somehow, Rafael wasn’t cold. In fact, his jacket sat comfortably draped over the back of his chair. He’d let Jen scold him later. But for now, he was running through the snow like a child on a sugar-rush, making shirtless snow angels every fifty steps. He felt an inner warmth that made hypothermia a mere blip of worry in the back of his mind. Simone was back. He was reunited with his sister. It might as well of been Springtime in Paris.
Rafael’s feet slapped hard on the ground as he raced tirelessly to Le Meurice. He slipped on ice occasionally, taking a moment or so only to rub away the pain of impact on his sore bum and to shake off embarrassment from his stumble.
He came to the hotel and brushed past the front desk. He’d find her room with his own methods, mad as they may be.
“EARTHQUAKE!!!!” he yelled up and down the second floor so people would stick their heads out to check the commotion and he could check their faces for his sister. Yelling “fire” was illegal, but yelling a different natural disaster wasn’t, for some odd reason. Ah, loopholes in the law. He owed a lot to them.
But Simone was not among the confused and perturbed faces of hotel attendants. So he tried the third floor. He knocked on doors individually, claiming to be housekeeping, that he was there to replace the towels.
He rapped loudly on the last door of the floor. “House keeping!” he exclaimed. “I’m taking away your sh*t towels and giving you new ones!”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 31, 2011 1:05:36 GMT -6
Simone Perry
The Brit was exhausted. Happy, but exhausted.
She had arrived at Le Meurice late the night before, and had retained just enough alertness left to check into her room and take her bags from the porter before crawling under the covers fully dressed and falling instantly asleep. Just before she drifted off into blissful oblivion, she realized that she had forgotten to tip the porter...
"I thought I said that you were coming tonight."
Simone avoided eye contact as she began to clean the dishes busily, hoping with all of her might that he would leave her and go sleep it off. "Sorry, love...I didn't feel well tonight-" The porcelain teapot in her hands suddenly tore free of her grasp and flew through the air to shatter against the far wall.
She was too shocked and frightened to move. It was happening again...and she wouldn't be able to stop it this time, either.
A muscular hand caught her wrist in a painful, iron grip, its fingers digging into her flesh so hard that she could feel the bruises springing up. It pulled her away from the sink and towards the strong stench of alcohol emanating from the man she feared. "I say whether or not you feel well enough to attend..." he hissed, grabbing her other wrist and forcing her within inches of his face. She was too paralyzed to look away.
"Make a fool out of me, will you?" His voice and temper were rising, and the redhead began to struggle, attempting to tear herself away. "I'll show you." He released one of her hands, and drew his arm back, the wicked intent glittering in his eyes and written on his face.
Simone whipped her head away and tried to protect herself, but the first blow knocked her nearly senseless... And again. And a third time. But it didn't hurt...
The door.
Simone awoke with a start, blurry-eyed and confused. “House keeping!” came a bellow, and the pounding on the door continued. The Brit tried to clamber out of bed, but was so tangled up in the bedclothes that she fell to the ground with a loud and painful thump before extricating herself and scrambling to her feet.
“I’m taking away your sh*t towels and giving you new ones!” Fully awakened and irate from her tumble to the floor, Simone stomped across her bedroom in high dudgeon, muttering loudly to herself.
"I swear I'll have this one fired...bloody imbecile!" she spat darkly, sliding the chain free forcefully and ferociously spinning the deadbolt back.
As she yanked the door open, she began to berate the hapless employee, red hair and green eyes wild and somewhat crazed, as a recently woken person's often are. "You do realize that you've just lost your-OH." For a split second, she simply stood there and stared at the man who had woken her so abruptly and rudely with a call for towels.
Then, with a huge smile, she hurled herself at him, catching him in a tight hug and knocking him several steps backwards. "Ray!!" She chirped happily, all anger drained out of her at the sight of him. "You know that if that had been anybody else, I would have killed them, right? Come in, come in!" She grabbed his hand with both of hers and pulled him along behind her into the room, kicking the door shut behind them.
After a moment of silence in which they both took in each other's appearance, Simone hugged her older brother again, her heart overflowing with fondness and overdue emotions. He was, as always, handsome as could be, but he glowed with a contentment that she had not seen in him before. "You look well, Ray. And happy. I've missed you so much..." Her voice caught, and she lapsed into silence, pleased to say nothing and merely be held by her big brother, who had chased away her nightmare.
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Post by Lets_Eat_Paste on Dec 31, 2011 12:54:21 GMT -6
Rafael Lamaroux
He heard a muttering from behind the door, angry and indistinguishable. Surely he had the room. He would have turned and left, ding dong ditching this joint and attempting another room in his search for his sister. But fear held him in place. And when the door flew open, the sight of his baby sister held him there over again.
"You do realize that you've just lost your-” Rafael raised an eyebrow at Simone’s bitter words, tinted with morning breath. What did he just lose? There were millions of things he could have put in that blank, several of which he didn’t want to think about. “OH!” There was a moment spent in which Rafael watched realization paint Simone’s face. He looked her up and down. She was still Simone, but she was flushed with a new maturity that Rafael couldn’t place. Time changed a lot of things, but he never imagined that it would change his sister.
There she stood, unmoving as some Greek statue. But with arms. And as f turning on a dime, she sprung to life and wrapped her arms around him tightly, throwing him off balance. "Ray!! You know that if that had been anybody else, I would have killed them, right? Come in, come in!"
Rafael had no choice but to enter the hotel suite as she dragged him by the hands into the spacious room. He whistled as he took in the sight of it. It was lavish.
"You look well, Ray. And happy. I've missed you so much..."
“Because I am, Simone! I really am! How are you? No letters, no calls. It’s enough to drive a man insane! Fill me in, girl. Deets.” He sat her down on the bed. It had been something like a year since they had even spoken, they needed hours, days even, to fill each other in on everything that had happened between then and now.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 1, 2012 5:56:41 GMT -6
Simone Perry
Seeing Ray again made the pain and trouble she had been through in the past couple of years melt away like snow. It felt like she had been holding herself together until she came to this moment, and now had the option to fall apart if she so chose, because her brother was there to catch her. However, that would be going backwards. Simone had managed to pick up all the pieces of herself and stick them back into place pretty well. If Ray could have seen inside of her, he might have compared her to a badly pieced puzzle. Even though it was a shoddy repair, she had learned to function normally, a feat that still baffled her to this day.
There was no way she would break like that again. Not to heal. Not for anything.
She watched Ray appreciating the grandeur of his surroundings with the ghost of a melancholy smile on her mouth. It was too bad, really... Having the protective older brother would have been wonderful a year ago, but now it would just cause problems. She wouldn't be able to tell him everything, and that saddened her.
Ray beamed at her observation of his happiness as he replied.“Because I am, Simone! I really am! How are you?" The Brit opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off as words continued to spill out of his mouth. She couldn't help but smile: how typical of him, to let his excitement take over. It was an endearing quality; one that had irritated her on more than one occasion, but she was more than happy to let him talk.
He pulled her over to the bed to sit next to him, lovingly sarcastic comments following his question. "No letters, no calls. It’s enough to drive a man insane! Fill me in, girl. Deets.” Simone smiled, laughing. Oh, she'd forgotten his humor, and the slang he used, and it warmed her heart to hear it again.
"I've never been good at long-distance communication," she said, rolling her eyes. "Been Down Under, actually... Got a job at the Opera House in Sydney for a while..." She could feel tears beginning prick at her eyes, and was surprised by this sensation. She had resigned herself to the loss of her voice a long time ago, and had assumed that talking about it would be no problem.
But hearing Ray's unchanged voice, and hearing her own rasp against his brought back the unwelcome memories of her old tone, and the sounds she had once been able to produce. A tear escaped and trickled down her cheek. "Oh, sorry!" She exclaimed, jumping up to grab a tissue from the nightstand and dabbing at her eyes. For a few seconds she kept her back to Ray, endeavoring to calm herself and get her emotions under control. Once she had regained enough composure to speak a few words together without bawling, she turned back to him, emerald eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"I...I lost it, Ray. I lost my voice." As if to prove her point, it broke on the last word. I lost that and so much more... She covered her mouth with one hand and closed her eyes as the tears began to fall more quickly, her heart aching with the intensity of her pain. So much for being strong...
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Post by Lets_Eat_Paste on Jan 2, 2012 19:38:18 GMT -6
Rafael Lamaroux
"I've never been good at long-distance communication," Simone said dourly, but Rafael laughed. He knew that to be true. Every time she disappeared off the map, straying just pasty arms-length from him, Rafael was left to fret and pace and compile a list of things to tell her when she got back (because surely she would).
"Been Down Under, actually... Got a job at the Opera House in Sydney for a while..."
Well that sounded glamorous. Rafael had been a lot of places, but never the Outback. He’d love few things more than to pet a koala or use race a kangaroo around a eucalyptus tree. He envisioned Simone doing just that before she range-rovered over to a “barby” for some “prawns”. Between work, of course. There was always work. If she would have called him, he would have gladly joined her in that way of life.
But a fat, sparkling tear seeped from the corner of her green eyes and landed on her hand. Rafael watched it a moment, a spherical ring of water against her alabaster skin. Her touched the tear a moment, rubbing it between forefinger and thumb, looking up to find another one threatening to tumble forward. He reached up to wipe it away, but she turned her head away. "Oh, sorry!"
He watched her silently a moment, wondering what was going on in that fiery head of hers. He cocked his head and softened his blue eyes, plucking up a curly tendril and twirling it around his finger as if he was teasing flame. Rarely had he seen Simone so weak, so vulnerable. He wanted to reach out and hold her in a bear hug in hopes it would revive her and pump some of that spitfire soul back into her. But he sat still, petrified with concern.
"I...I lost it, Ray. I lost my voice."
Rafael breathed out, suddenly aware he had been holding his breath. What did he say to that? What would he want someone to say to him if he lost his legs and couldn’t dance? What would he do with his life if that happened? How would he pick up those pieces?
“Woah.” That was not what he wanted to say. “Simone, I’m so sorry.” Her face was a crimson now, scrunched up and contorted. He held her to his strong chest. “You’re more than your voice. I know it’s hard to believe it now, but you didn’t lose who you are, just a small bit. Your voice was wonderful and I’ll miss it, but it doesn’t change who you are.” He stroked her hair. “I’m so, so sorry. Can I ask what happened?” Had she gotten sick? Did she have an injury? Rafael wanted to know without reopening scabs left as a souvenir of her terribly sad loss.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 3, 2012 6:12:50 GMT -6
Simone Perry
A year earlier, the Brit would have been more than willing to spill her guts to her big brother and watch him chase away the bad guys. She would have hidden from her mistakes and let others deal with them for her, playing the injured victim perfectly.
She had not had that option in Australia. Having found herself suddenly burdened with the responsibility and solutions for her problems and bad decisions was the pivotal point; she now refused to share that horrific experience with anyone else. Besides, if Ray ever heard the full story, he would start off on a warpath.
She could feel her brother's eyes on her, filled with concern and worry. She hated that she couldn't tell him everything, but it wouldn't do any good to retell her tale at this point, now that it all had been settled. She wiped away some of her tears as Ray digested her disclosure.
“Woah.”He said finally, and as she glanced over at him, Simone almost laughed. That shell-shocked, stunned expression had been similar to her own when she had been told that news. “Simone, I’m so sorry.” The pity in his voice hit that raw spot again, and more tears began to pour out of her eyes. He enveloped her in his arms and Simone did her utmost to keep her crying under some semblance of control, partially by hiding her face in his shirt. She hoped he wouldn't mind if she got it all wet...
“You’re more than your voice. I know it’s hard to believe it now, but you didn’t lose who you are, just a small bit. Your voice was wonderful and I’ll miss it, but it doesn’t change who you are.” It was true, and he was right, as usual. She would just rather not believe it at the moment. With a teary sigh, Simone turned her head and rested her cheek on his chest, waterworks diminished to a slow trickle now.
She heaved another shaky breath. "I know," she said thickly, her tone muffled. "It's just I expect it to be there, and it's not anymore..." One of his hands came up to stroke her hair soothingly, and the Brit felt a calmness descend on her. She took a deep, steadying, even inhalation, finished with crying for the present, preparing herself for the question she was sure would come.
“I’m so, so sorry. Can I ask what happened?” He asked tentatively, and Simone half-smiled, albeit humorlessly.
"A lot of things happened." She began bitterly, almost waspishly, then stopped herself. It would do no good to revisit that. And none of it had been her brother's fault. He didn't deserve her ire. She pulled back from Ray and gave an apologetic grimace. "Sorry... I got a bad teacher, who for all appearances was a good one. I couldn't get out until it was too late." Before Ray could interrupt, which his expression indicated that he would be doing in a few seconds' time, she hurried on. "I got married, too! Didn't work out though... Speaking of which, how are you and Jennifer?" It was enough information for the present, and she knew that Ray would respect her privacy if she asked him. ...And this Jennifer subject would be far more enjoyable than her own significant other...
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Post by Lets_Eat_Paste on Jan 7, 2012 16:27:55 GMT -6
Rafael Lamaroux
"A lot of things happened." Yeah. That was specific. Rafael could imagine so much. But what had happened? Rafael sighed. He supposed he needed to be fair. After the war, Rafael didn’t tell many what had happened as he stayed up every night watching the news, listening to the radio for any mention of Jen’s name. Simone surely knew that, so she continued.
"Sorry... I got a bad teacher, who for all appearances was a good one. I couldn't get out until it was too late."
Rafael gulped. It was vague, but it was just enough information to fill in the blanks in Rafael’s mind with horrific images and thoughts. He felt his blood boil. “What’s—“ Rafael was seconds away from asking what the name of this teacher was, but Simone interrupted him, hopefully with data that would bring light to the situation.
"I got married, too! Didn't work out though…” Rafael’s jaw dropped and his blood grew hot in his veins. Why hadn’t she told him? Certainly there was a good reason. His own baby sister wouldn’t just neglect to leave that out, cut a Rafael-shaped hole out of that little part of her life. Honestly, though, he wasn’t surprised that her marriage had disintegrated. Studies had shown the children of divorced parents had higher chances of getting divorced themselves. His father was a leaver and that may have had some subconscious effect on her and her relationships. It was why Rafael would never in a million years get married. Getting married could lead to divorce, but not getting married couldn’t. He beat the system.
”Speaking of which, how are you and Jennifer?"
Rafael let out a laugh. “Not married. I, uh… I did ask her to live with me, though. I think we’re ready for that.” It was odd, considering he was hardly ready to say ‘I love you’ to her. But it was a stepping stone in their relationship. Granted, Rafael didn’t know what was on the other side, but he and Jen were making little leaps to there. “Have you two even met yet?”
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Post by Deleted on Jan 8, 2012 20:42:59 GMT -6
Simone Perry
To his credit, Ray, in spite of his tenacious hot-hotheadedness, accepted the fact that she had left him to draw his own conclusions and sought no further information about her failed marriage: for this, the Brit was immensely grateful. Obviously, the pair had both matured in the time that they had been apart. It was strange how things seemed to work out like that.
At her question as to his relationship with Jennifer, he laughed. “Not married. I, uh… I did ask her to live with me, though. I think we’re ready for that.” His qualms about marriage were completely natural; no doubt he assumed that, like his parents before him, he would fail as well. Simone felt sad for Ray in that sense. She knew in her heart and mind that he would make a wonderful husband and father...but at the same time, he had not run away from his feelings for Jennifer. He must have convinced himself that it would work out in the end, even if it never ended up on a certificate of marriage.
“Have you two even met yet?” He asked, and Simone grinned sheepishly, and glanced down at her hands, embarrassed. Before she had left Paris in a whirl, Ray had been about to arrange for her to meet Jennifer, but that attempt had ended rather abruptly with Simone's quick departure to Australia.
"No...that would be my fault..." she admitted apologetically, glancing up into his fond blue eyes for a moment. "I kind of took off before that came about. Sorry..." For the second time in a conversation, she had said 'sorry'.
She realized that the last time she had been in Paris, it would have choked her to say that once, let alone twice. Being able to say it to her brother easily, and to honestly mean it took away a little of the sting of her miserable history as a sister.
"But tell me about her! I'm sure I'll meet her eventually--unless I run off again, that is--but I still want to hear you describe her." Simone was determined to be a more constant sister this time around. No room for mistakes.
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Post by Lets_Eat_Paste on Jan 8, 2012 21:45:21 GMT -6
Rafael Lamaroux
No...that would be my fault… I kind of took off before that came about. Sorry..."
That was two people from Rafael family Jen had yet to meet. Hell, Jen had even met Ana’s boyfriend Patrick who made Ray’s skin crawl. And that one creepy client Gramps had to stop selling cats to because he found out the man was feeding them to his pet python. Something was seriously wrong with this picture.
"But tell me about her! I'm sure I'll meet her eventually--unless I run off again, that is--but I still want to hear you describe her."
Rafael sighed happily. “Where do I start? She is a fantastic artist, but a terrible dancer. She’s got an incredibly strong spirit, but she can also take me, man. The woman could bench a car, I swear. Oh! And her eyes… She has the most entrancing eyes I have ever seen—greenish blue and huge. She has these great full lips that are great for kissing and make her look like she’s pouting when she smiles. She’s smarter than me, too. Like way much, and possibly the funniest person I’ve ever met. She’s so sexy, Simone, but I think the sexiest part of her is her confidence. This woman knows what she wants and makes it no secret. She doesn’t play coy, doesn’t hold back. She just calls it like she sees it, speaks her mind. It’s freaking intimidating, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Rafael hadn’t realized how animatedly he had been speaking, his hands flying, his eyes unfocused as he spoke of her. He remembered the first time he saw her—her dirty blonde hair pulled into a taut bun at the nape of her neck, standing at attention in her army greens. Rafael was marching and stopped abruptly to watch the sun make a near-shadowy blur of her in the desert. He was reprimanded, of course for stopping, losing focus. But honestly, he didn’t care. He had one full minute to gaze at her before resuming his march.
“You’ll like her, I promise.”
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Post by Deleted on Jan 9, 2012 18:55:49 GMT -6
Simone Perry
Quite honestly, the Brit did feel badly that she hadn't met Jennifer yet. From the looks of it, Ray had never been happier, and while that made Simone as please as a sister could be, the fact that she had allowed herself to miss being a part of that happiness left a little bitter feeling somewhere in the depths of her heart. But, as always, there was no changing the past, and she had to live with the choices she had made.
She turned her full attention back to her brother, who had just let out a contented sigh as he thought about his dear one. Simone giggled inwardly; his demeanor reminded her somewhat of Romeo...but there was no way on earth she would ever embarrass him by telling him that.“Where do I start? She is a fantastic artist, but a terrible dancer. She’s got an incredibly strong spirit, but she can also take me, man. The woman could bench a car, I swear. Oh! And her eyes… Ray's expression had the faraway, dazed look of someone reliving one of the best moments of their life. Simone started grinning. This was just too unbelievably cute.
As he went on, Ray started illustrating his points with his hands, almost as if he couldn't quite get the words out without involving the rest of himself. She has the most entrancing eyes I have ever seen—greenish blue and huge. She has these great full lips that are great for kissing and make her look like she’s pouting when she smiles. She’s smarter than me, too. Like way much, and possibly the funniest person I’ve ever met. She’s so sexy, Simone, but I think the sexiest part of her is her confidence. This woman knows what she wants and makes it no secret. She doesn’t play coy, doesn’t hold back. She just calls it like she sees it, speaks her mind. It’s freaking intimidating, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The way he talked about her, Simone was absolutely certain that if nothing else, she would respect Jennifer. From the sound of it, she was everything that Simone had striven to become. Plus, any woman who could take her brother out, she knew she would like, if only for the hilarity of that moment. “You’ll like her, I promise.”
She smiled at her brother, glad for his girlfriend and for the successful relationship that he had with her. "She sounds brilliant. And just like the kind of woman you need to keep you in line." She punched his arm playfully. "Can't have my brother running amuck in my workplace, now, can I? When can I meet her?"
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Post by Lets_Eat_Paste on Jan 10, 2012 20:43:34 GMT -6
Rafael Lamaroux
Simone let out a laugh an Rafael smiled, praying that was a good thing, knowing somehow it was.
"She sounds brilliant. And just like the kind of woman you need to keep you in line. Can't have my brother running amuck in my workplace, now, can I? When can I meet her?"
Rafael returned her laugh. “Anytime you want, Simone. Just stop by. She’ll probably be there.” He went quiet for a moment, mulling over everything that had been said, actually put into words what had been on his mind for three years. He finally let out a soft laugh. “Yeah… Yeah. She keeps me in line. But it’s worth it, because at least I have her.” There was a time, two years ago when Rafael had nothing more than a picture of her, terrified he might hear her name amongst the fallen, see it in an obituary. So he cherished every moment with her, more than willing to be what he once considered whipped.
“I mean,” he said, realizing he had spent a majority of this conversation with that sappy, dopey look on his face. “Not that I want to marry. Speaking of which, tell me more about yours, Simone. What can I do?”
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Post by Deleted on Feb 2, 2012 20:21:22 GMT -6
Simone Perry
”Anytime you want, Simone. Just stop by. She’ll probably be there.” Replied Ray to her question. They both sat silently for a moment. Simone was considering the awkwardness of simply breezing in when Ray was not around, and how Jennifer would take it. After all, Simone was the proverbial prodigal sister…and not many people tended to appreciate those. She might just up and leave again; who knew where life would blow her next? The steady girlfriend of a steady brother might not take kindly to her…
”Yeah…yeah. She keeps me in line. But it’s worth it, because at least I have her.” Such sentimentalism from her rough and tough big brother made the Brit smile. She quickly hid it, though; she loved Ray too dearly to laugh at the depth of his love. As if shaken out of his reverie, Ray said hurriedly ”I mean, not that I want to marry. Speaking of which,” Simone shut her eyes tightly for a brief moment. Here came the question that she had been dreading this entire conversation… ”Tell me more about yours, Simone. What can I do?”
She sat, thinking. Do? There was nothing to be done now, unless her dearly divorced came after her for revenge. She doubted that would happen. Even if he did, the Brit was more than capable of disappearing once more, if she really needed to. So she lifted her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug, her expression apologetic. “Nothing, really… It just wasn’t meant to be, I guess. Things sometimes just don’t work out, you know?” He knew, and she realized it. But she was avoiding having to break the shaky calm that she had finally reclaimed, and so dodged answering the question behind the question. “No kids, though, so you don't have to worry about being an uncle just yet."
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Post by The Exodus on Feb 12, 2012 20:24:29 GMT -6
OOC: Lushton on Valentine's Day!!!!!! BIC: Lucian MichaudIt was one thing to snag dinner reservations at Le Meurice. It was yet another to secure a room for the night, particularly when that night was an even more Herculean task. But to get dinner delivered from the five star restaurant below to a private suite, and to have the staff hand over extra sheets to drape about the room was a task that only Lucian Michaud could pull off. Possibly. There were stories about Salvador Dali and some goats on the twelfth floor. Maybe Dali would have dared to ask more of the Le Meurice staff and its resources in order to satiate his insurmountable artist’s ego. Lucian, meanwhile, saw tonight as a labor of love akin to the building of the Taj Mahal. If, of course, the Taj Mahal was built from pillows and blankets and sheets. He’d spent the better part of the day “at work”, here and building a blanket fort to rival the one Ashton had made for him last year. He’d been designing this on paper for weeks. Damien had once caught sight of it while Lucian worked on it over a lunch break they took together. “It’s not too late to be an architect,” he said in a syrupy voice Lucian knew was meant to imitate his own. Lucian stuffed the drawings into his suit jacket. “It’s for Ashton,” he said defensively. “I’ve no intention of being an architect.” “Spare me the details, Dad,” said Damien. “It’s cute you’re building her a house for Valentine’s Day. Just remember not to use straw or sticks, okay?” That had been the only time anyone was privy to Lucian’s plan. Since then, he’d kept the designs to himself. He’d demanded from the staff an order of linens without much explanation, save for “It’s for my fiancée”. They didn’t ask questions after that. Thank God. Since he’d arrived here in the mid-afternoon, Lucian had failed to match his castle-in-the-clouds design. It looked a bit like a sad, sagging circus tent to him. An amalgam of different colored sheets and blankets hung overhead—pale pinks, blues, yellows, purples and greens—that made for a dizzying array. The floor was lined with squashy pillows of all sizes. Under the center of the circus-top, Lucian had set up dinner—the same five-course feast found downstairs, with wines paired perfectly for dinner and dessert—and some candles. No music, though. Lucian didn’t see the point in playing soft jazz in the background when all he really wanted was a night with Ashton alone. Their first foray into the dating world post-baby had been a success, if success meant not crying over leaving Greggy home alone and spending more than an hour before getting bogged down in worry. Tonight, Lucian was determined to take them one baby-step further. All night, they would be here, while Henry and a babysitter cared for Gregory across the river on the Hameau des Artistes. All night, Lucian and Ashton would have to relearn each other in a million different ways—through words, actions and those comfortable silences they shared. That was, if Lucian could just get the bed posts to stop wobbling long enough for him to twine the carnations between the fabric and the wood. It all looked so much easier on paper. A knock on the door made him jump. Lucian looked to see one of the concierges standing in the doorway. “Mademoiselle Greene is downstairs,” he said. “Shall I send her up?” “No! No. Just…. Give me ten minutes. I’ll go down and get her myself.” “Ten minutes, Monsieur Michaud? What would you have us tell her?” “Put her in the restaurant. Tell her I’m running late. Anything. Just keep her there until I get there.” And with that note of frantic finality, Lucian went back to the finishing details. Ashton was on time; for the first time, Lucian was running late.
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Post by Lets_Eat_Paste on Feb 12, 2012 22:37:02 GMT -6
Ashton GreeneLeaving Greggy in the able hands of her father and a babysitter was easier than she had expected. He didn’t fuss as she passed him over the young, gentle hands of Caroline, and Ashton was able to walk out without even a twinge of anxiety and without so much as a spot of baby drivel on her black, sparkly dress. Ashton remembered the last Valentine’s Day she had spent with Lucian. They had just gotten together. He had just fished her out of a sad puddle of self-pity and they snuck around together, stealing every minute they could, knowing it couldn’t last. Then, there had been no talk of babies, no talk of their own marriage, no certainty. They sat on a picnic blanket, testing the waters of their relationship. Lucian had given her a stuffed cow then, a cow she snuggled to every Sunday night when he went to the Vineyards, and a necklace, which she wore as often as she could. Even today, despite the turtle neckline of her dress, she adorned the necklace to commemorate their first Valentine’s Day together. Le Meurice was elegant in every sense. From the nights spent there to the views of the river most of the rooms seemed to have. Even the food was succulent. But lavish as the downstairs restaurant was, Ashton wasn’t sure why, of all the restaurants in Paris, Lucian had picked this one, and why she hadn’t seen him since he left this morning. But none the less, she sat at the table with his last name on it (soon to be her own, thank you very much), and enjoyed the company of a waiter and a concierge. The waiter gave her unlimited glasses of water (which was a kind, but unpleasant gesture for a woman who recently regained control of her bladder) and the concierge struck up a lovely conversation with her about mountains, Gregory, and London. It wasn’t to say that the conversation was unwelcome, but Ashton couldn’t help but to be underwhelmed with Lucian’s Valentine’s Day surprise. Had she wanted her night to be filled with conversing with hotel wait-staff, she would have just come here herself, no reservation needed. But Lucian, well organized, romantic Lucian, probably had a plan. And if she knew him as well as she had hoped, his plan was experiencing some small hiccups at the moment and he was probably frantically trying to expel them. She just had to trust that he had everything under control. The air smelled of gourmet food and nostalgia in that restaurant. She could remember that last time she was here. Lucian had set her up here for the night while Damien was a guest in the house. Lucian had come to visit her, and beneath the sanctuary of a labor-intensive blanket fort, they mapped out their futures as if they were mapping stars—beautiful, distant, untouchable, but desired. That night had been burned forever onto Ashton’s heart and brain, stilled in freeze-frames and preserved forever. She looked back on the memory with a smile. It was amazing what they thought to be an impossibility then, had become a reality now.
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