"Oh come on, Margie.  That man was old enough to be your grandfather!  What were you doing kissing him like that in the middle of all Paris?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic, Stella!  I'm sure he's not that much older than me.  And come on, tell me you've never had the urge to do something unexpected."

"Unexpected, my arse.  The Margie I know would never kiss anyone in public, let alone a stranger.  You know him, Marge, admit it."

"I truly don't," Clarice said laughing.  Stella glared.  Clarice put up her hand and placed the other one flat on the table.  "I, Marguerite Sanford, swear that I never saw that man in my life before last night."

Stella pouted.  "I had better not find you've been lying to me, Margie.  I have ways of finding out, you know," she said, with just a little playful threat thrown into her voice.  Just then the hour tolled in the plaza and a limo pulled up.  "Oh, I have to go, Marge.  Just don't forget what I said."

"Good bye, Stella," Clarice called, as the driver stepped out of the car to open the passenger door.

"Mademoiselle Sanford?" he asked.

Stella looked stunned.  "No, I am Stella de Barbaou."  She grinned.  Her famous smile was usually enough to do the trick.

"I am sorry, Mademoiselle Barbaou, but I am to pick up Mademoiselle Sanford."

Clarice stood up and approached, perplexed.

Stella was not impressed.  "She didn't order a ride, though.  I did."

"I am truly sorry, Mademoiselle.  My instructions were specifically to go to La CafĂ© Cheve on La Rue de Merceau and pick up the Mademoiselle Sanford who dines there everyday at this time."

"Who would send a limo for her?"  Stella was shocked.

Clarice narrowed her eyes.  So much for friendship.

"The Monsieur would not give his name, nor would he tell me where he wished Mademoiselle Sanford to be dropped off.  It was most strange."

Clarice stepped up.  "Oh I remember now, Stella.  One of my clients wanted to meet with me today over lunch. It slipped my mind.  I can't keep a client waiting, of course.  You understand," she said, slipping into the back of the limo.

Stella apparently didn't understand.  She stood shell-shocked looking after the long car as it turned the corner.  "Who would ever send a limo for Margie?  No client of hers would ever…" and then Stella trailed off, as her tiny self-centered little mind finally guessed the obvious.

Clarice grinned out of the back of the tinted window at Stella's shocked face.  She wouldn't forget that look any time soon.  The drive lowered the barrier between them.  "Mademoiselle's friend looks quite surprised."

"It's not often that happens," Clarice, said smiling.

"Oh, by the way, there is a surprise for Mademoiselle, in the armrest."

Clarice felt for the plastic handle in the leather upholstery and popped the armrest open.  Inside a small, folded cellular phone sat.  As she looked it, it began to ring.  Clarice's head snapped up to look at the driver and then back at the phone.  She reached down slowly and picked up the phone, extending the antenna.  She flipped it open and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello?" she asked, breathlessly.

"Is this Clarice?" the voice on the other end purred.  "Well, hello Clarice."