The Valentino gown settled perfectly on her body. It caressed every curve, the lush fabric whispering secrets. It was worth every favor called in, every string pulled.
Glenn softly whistled, "Wow Carol. Just. You look gorgeous."
Carol smiled and spun to look at the back in in the 3-way mirror in her fitting room. The gown was very flattering. A deep, lush red. Valentino's signature red. It brought out the silver in her hair, deepened the blue of her eyes, and complimented her creamy skin to perfection.
She smiled. She had to admit, she looked damn good. It had been a very rough few months. After Rick broke her heart, she had shied away from the social scene fleeing to Monte Carlo to allow her wounds to heal in the privacy of her villa. This gala would be her first big social event since the breakup. She had thrown herself into planning it, down to every last detail. She was excited about the theme, Moulin Rouge. Sexy, fun, and hopefully the event of the season. It was just over a month away.
Carol's claim to fame was the Peletier name. The entertainment rags sometimes called her the Silver Fox because, like her mother, she went totally grey at the age of 25. It was to honor her mother that she kept her silver locks. She never even entertained the idea of coloring it. The lack of hair color certainly never prevented her from finding suitors. Thanks to the success of her father's aeronautical ventures, Carol would never want for anything the rest of her life. Any children she would have would want for nothing. The Peletier dynasty had their fingers in many pots. The space program. Defense. Commercial aircraft. Honestly Carol couldn't keep it all straight. Her father though always very loving, the business kept him traveling. He missed most of Carol's childhood. Sometimes Carol thought she would trade it all to have had a father that was there for the recitals and plays.
Wrapped in this exquisite gown, she was at the moment very happy to have the privilege of the Peletier name.
Sighing she reflected on how it was this very event that she was sure Rick would pop the question. They had been the "it" couple. Both from well-respected families. They looked like they were made for each other. The media had loved them. That was until for whatever reason, Rick decided New York City wasn't for him anymore and he took off for LA. Soon after it came out he had been dating a woman 15 years his junior behind Carol's back for three months. She never even suspected. She had trusted him with her whole heart and soul.
"So you like it then, Glenn?" Peering over her shoulder, she could see Glen's approving nod and wide grin. Glenn. Where would she be without him? Her long-suffering assistant and confidant. It was his suggestion she pursue snagging this vintage Valentino.
Carol's phone began to vibrate. Hastily she snatched it up reading the text: "Been here ten minutes. Where are you lady?" She saw who the text was from and groaned. With the excitement of the fitting, she had completely forgot about her lunch date with Michonne.
"Glenn, can you please call Michonne and let her know I'll be there in 20 minutes? Tell her lunch is on me." Glenn nodded and was already dialing the phone as he strolled from the room.
The representative carefully helped Carol out of her silken cocoon. There were just a few slight alterations, but she assured Carol the dress would be ready in plenty of time for the big night.
After showing the style crew out the door. Carol hurriedly dressed, dashed down to the lobby, and into the limo awaiting her outside.
Le Cirque was busy as usual, the lunchtime crowd murmuring in a low buzz as she was shown to her table. Michonne was there waiting, a glass of wine in hand. "A bit early to be drinking, isn't it?" Carol asked with a smile.
"You know what they say, its 5 o'clock somewhere." Laughing, Michonne rose and hugged her friend, enveloping Carol in a cloud of sandalwood and amber. "How have you been? How did the fitting go? Oh, I hope you don't mind. I went ahead and ordered you the lobster risotto. I know it's your favorite."
Settling in her chair, with a wide grin Carol replied, "Oh, the risotto! Thank you! Yes, the fitting went very well. I can't wait for you to see this gown. It's going to blow you away."
"Mmmhmm. I'm sure it will," Michonne replied after a sip of wine. "The question is, do you have a date to appreciate this said mind blowing gown?" She politely paused as the waiter placed their food before them.
A date. That was one thing Ms. Peletier did not have. She didn't really have time to with all the preparations. Her heart was still reeling and tender from the Rick debacle.
"Your long pause must mean the answer is no then." Michonne took Carol's hand. "You'll heal sweetie. Things will get better. I know it sounds like a really bad cliché' but you'll find love again." Giving Carol's hand one final squeeze Michonne sat up straighter, with an odd smile twisting her lips. A devilish smile.
Michonne. Carol had known her from their years at boarding school together. They had gotten in to trouble together. Suffered heartbreak together. They had a bond stronger than sisters. Right now Michonne's face had what Carol liked to call, "The Look". The Look happened when Michonne suggested they fly to Ibiza with the only clothes on their backs, passports and Carol's father's American Express card. The Look happened when Michonne suggested Carol take off her swimsuit top in exchange for a Corona at the (non-nude) beach when they were at St. Bart's. Carol braced herself for what The Look meant this time.
Michonne leaned in close, almost whispering. "I have a good friend, Andrea. She runs an agency that helps women out in your situation."
"My situation?" Carol was taken aback a bit. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean a fine, gorgeous women between lovers who needs a date to a very special, very important evening. And by date I mean a gorgeous hunk of flesh that looks good in a tux, speaks in complete sentences and knows the proper way to behave in social situations." Michonne smiled a wicked smile before ending with, "What you need, my love, is an escort."
Carol dropped her fork.
"Are you saying I need a…." she struggled to find the word, "Gigolo?" Her voice was a high pitched squeak. She could feel her cheeks burning. Surely Michonne didn't think her THAT desperate.
Michonne started laughing. "Well, if that's the word you're used to. Andrea sure as hell wouldn't appreciate it. Her escorts are the best of the best. Former professional athletes, models, maybe a B-list actor or two, trust fund babies. Trust me Honey, there are no losers in this bunch."
Carol took a sip of water to compose herself then stated, "Sounds like you are speaking from experience."
Michonne only smiled. "Maybe. But trust me when I say Andrea is the picture of discretion. If you decide to meet with her, your privacy will be respected. Trust me on that. I've known her for a long time. She's a classy lady and she runs a very tight ship." Reaching into her bag, Michonne pulled out a business card on heavy cream-colored stock. She slid it over to Carol. "Take this sweetie. If you change your mind and call her mention my name. You'll be in. She knows and trusts me."
Carol found it strange that as close as they were, this was the first time Michonne had mentioned this Andrea person.
Carol regarded the card. The script in a simple elegant font, printed in black ink: Five Veils. No address, no email, just a phone number.
Carol shook her head. "I don't think so Michonne. I'd hate to think I'm so desperate as to call for an escort."
"Think about it. No entanglements. No broken promises. Just an evening out with a very attractive man, focused on you. Doting on you. Wouldn't you like that Carol, after all you've been through?" Michonne paused smiling. "I would suggest you maybe hire an escort to my gallery soiree, to try it out. That way if it's…not your thing your big evening won't be ruined."
"I'll think about it." Carol carefully slid the card into her wallet where she was sure it would never again see the light of day.
Pausing to take sip of wine Michonne replied, "Just ask for Andrea, mention me, and the rest will be easy."
"Okay." Carol replied smiling, "Maybe I'll will." Sure as hell won't, she thought to herself taking another sip of water. At least it seemed to satisfy Michonne who started rattling on about her latest fashion show.
Carol forgot all about the little card until the end of the day, when she was switching her handbags and the little cream colored rectangle fluttered to the floor. She scooped it up. What could it hurt? If this Andrea was a friend of Michonne's she couldn't be THAT bad. It would be nice to show up with a nice arm piece. Show she had moved on in her life. Give the tabloids some eye candy.
Her fingers trembling, she dialed the number before she lost her nerve.