Sex and the City: Extended Edition Chapter 6: The Freudian Slip, a phantom of the opera fanfic

The Freudian Slip

The next morning came too early for my taste. I don't think I have had proper sleep since I came to New York. I raised my exhausted head off the pillow and forced myself to get ready. It was not until I looked at myself in the full length mirror in the bathroom that I realized I had fallen asleep in my clothes. I shook my head. I was almost out the door before I noticed his coat on the back of my chair. Damn.

I decided to go directly over to his door and give it back. That way I would have an out if I needed one; I had the excuse of having to go to work. I grabbed my purse, his coat, my wallet, and I was out the door.

I rapped on his door. He answered almost immediately; looking as though he had not slept at all.

"Your coat," I handed him the garment. He stared at it for a moment.

"Thank you," he said slowly.

"I have to go, I am late for work," I said and I turned and walked quickly away. As I turned I tripped a little as my four inch Jimmy Choo heel caught the carpet. I stumbled but I didn't look back. I was sure I looked pretty stupid to him though.

Erik watched me go, believing by my abruptness I was angry with him, or that I simply did not want to see him again. And I didn't; well at least I did not care either way. He was just another man, another complication, another mistake. And plus, in the bright light of a new morning, he looked a bit weird.

He closed the door and threw the coat down on the floor, not really caring where it landed. If he was honest with himself he had to admit he was no closer to understanding what was going on than he had been the day before.

Erik had been around the apartment hundreds of times. He had looked into the closets and noted that they were full of clothes he had never seen before. His whole apartment contained so many things of mystery; a passport, a wallet, a cell phone, a microwave, a TV; all of which he had little to no idea of how to use.

His first encounter with the new technological kind came that day around noon. He heard a noise coming from somewhere; a kind of ringing. He remembered the noise my phone had made the night before.

He located the source of the noise and saw a light was flashing as well. Thinking about how he had seen me use my phone he took a guess at how to use this one.

Erik picked up the phone and waited, should he say hello?

"Hello?" he heard a woman's voice.

"Hello?" Erik repeated; amazed at the fact that he could communicate with someone this way.

"May I speak with Erik Duval?"

Wondering how on earth this woman knew a name he had thought he had just made up, it took him a moment to respond, "Speaking," he said.

"Mr. Duval this is Karen Hegel, with Mont Building and Design, I am calling to confirm your interview with Mr. Mont, at nine o'clock this Monday?"

Erik felt a hundred questions fill his head, but all he said was:

"Yes, thank you,"

"We will see you Monday then," the woman said brightly, "Have a good weekend," and there was a click on the other end.

Erik put the phone back down. What was Mont Building and Design, and how had he gotten an interview there? Was this someone else's life he had taken over somehow? And what day was it? And what time was it? What year was it?

It was Friday night in New York, 2004. I was on my way to meet my three friends; Rebecca Jones, the girl who kept me out too late, Susan York, the girl who never stayed out too late, and Jackie Nixon, the girl who kept us all in high fashion without too high a price due to her being an editor at VOGUE magazine.

These three women were my best friends. I thought of them as an extension of my family. Since our twenties we had been battling together against bad dates, work set backs, and personal crises.

We were all very different, but this was the one shimmering island in the world were the strangest people have a way of coming together. And we did have one major thing in common; none of us had found l-o-v-e.

Some say that talk is cheap, and if that is true than we were the four cheapest women in the city.

No topic was out of bounds for us; marriage, divorce, fidelity, compatibility, commitment, strange new predilections, and of course, 'location, location, location.'

I met them right after work. I had had to stay late to finish a brief. They were already seated in the crowded Chelsea restaurant Bungalow 8. The theme was a throw back to Beverly Hills Hotel and old Hollywood. I guess that would explain the potted palm trees. It was one of the most happening restaurants and to get in you had to be, as Rebecca put it, utterly fabulous.

"There you are!" Rebecca shouted at me as I navigated around the tables full of people to get to them, "So who was more important than talking to me last night?"

"What?" I had had a long day and the events of the night before had been the last thing on my mind.

"Did Robert finally show?" Rebecca smiled wickedly at me. To her, being stood up by a guy one night would not stop her from having great sex with him the next.

"Oh yes; he came to my office last night and followed me all the way home," I shook my head, "I finally got him to leave me alone by saying I had dinner plans with someone else,"

I suddenly bit my lip, did I want to tell my friends that I had spent the pervious night playing tour guide to the guy I used as a make believe boyfriend to get me out of awkward situations with other men?

"So then what?" Rebecca prompted, "Who were you with when I called?"

"My neighbor," I admitted.

There was a general intake of breath around the table and everyone leaned closer.

"Who is he?" Susan asked.

"His name is Erik…it was his first night in New York," I confessed.

"A New York virgin! Did you sleep with him?" Rebecca believed that four hours was the equivalent of four dates. Therefore she always slept with a man after the fourth date.

Jackie shook her head and smiled wryly, Susan looked scandalized, and I just laughed.

"I just met the guy!" I said.

"So," Rebecca spoke in a business like manner, "You could still have slept with him; gave him an exciting first night," she sipped her cosmopolitan.

"I am woman, not a welcome mat," I said.

"I think I read that on a sampler once," Jackie said sarcastically, winning laughs from all of us.

"Okay, so why didn't you sleep with him?" Rebecca persisted.

"She shouldn't have slept with him! She just met him!" Susan patted my arm, "Is he boyfriend material?" Susan had this idea that every new man we met could turn out to be 'the one.'

"No," I said, "He is too wonderful-I mean weird," all my friends stared at me and I felt like slapping myself in the face, "He acts strange," I tried to explain, "he does weird things; like he held the door open for me, and he gave me his coat to wear,"

"Aww…that sounds sweet!" Susan exclaimed, "What is wrong with that?"

"Oh no, don't get involved with a man like that," Jackie warned me, sipping her red wine, "First he is holding open doors; then he is asking you to quit your job, buy a van and move up state,"

"That's not true!" Susan argued, "He could just be trying to be sweet,"

"No one is just trying to be sweet," Rebecca interjected, "They are just trying to get laid or…get laid,"

"I think I saw that on a sampler somewhere," I said.

"So how old is he?" Susan pressed; determined to give this guy she did not know a chance.

"I don't know, thirty nine?" I guessed exasperated.

"Has he ever been married before?" Susan asked.

"Well actually; his fiancé left him," I said.

"Aw, that's so tragic!" Susan exclaimed, "It's like a romantic fairy tale! He came to New York brokenhearted, and then he met you,"

"And then he goes out and sleeps with all the other woman in the city," Rebecca tore down Susan's fantasy life, "Remember honey; there are no romantic fairy tales,"

"That's what I say, romance is dead," I continued, "This meeting won't not turn into a relationship,"

"Don't you mean that it will not turn into a relationship?" Jackie looked at me with her eyebrows raised.

"That is what I said," wasn't it?

"No, what you said was that it won't not turn into a relationship!" Susan cried happily, "You subconsciously like him!"

I sighed, "This is not high school Susan; if I liked him I would say so,"

"But you did say so! You Freudian slipped it!"

"I did not," I had certainly not done anything of the sort, but then I began to wonder… I had just accidentally said I thought we could have a relationship. The night before I had seen Mark, the former object of my undying affection, but I had kissed him, what did that mean?

My phone rang. I rummaged through my purse to find it; "Olivia Moss," I said hurriedly and everyone at the table stopped talking to listen to me.

"O-Olivia?" I recognized the voice immediately. It made my stomach flip…that voice!

"Erik?" I was bewildered, "How did you get this number?"

"It was in your wallet,"

Of course! I had gotten out of a cab in front of my office that morning to an unpleasant discovery. My Prada wallet was missing. I had paid the cabbie with a stray twenty I found floating around in my purse.

I had planned on going home and getting my wallet later in the day but ran out of time. As I had been late to dinner already I had dipped into the emergency money I kept in my office.

I was relieved to find my wallet, but I was shocked to find that Erik had ended up with it.

"How did you get my wallet?"

"It was in my coat pocket; I just found it, do you need it?" he was standing in his apartment and he had picked up the coat, found the wallet and gone through it. He did not know much, but by the way I had paid for everything the night before with the credit cards and the bills, he thought I might need the continents. He had found a slip of paper I had written my number on when I had first gotten my phone. It had been labeled, "My cell phone."

"Well, yes, but I am not at home; I am at dinner,"

"Oh…well…where?"

"Bungalow 8, 515 West 27th Street, Chelsea," I rattled off the name and address of the restaurant, "You can come down and bring it to me,"

I didn't really need it at the time. I had enough money to get me home. Sadly, I was not getting carded any time soon so I did not need my driver's license.

I did not need the wallet at all. And yet, I still asked Erik to come and bring it to me. Perhaps Susan was not far off the mark.

"Who was that?" Rebecca asked,

I just stared at the cell phone, "It was him," I said slowly, "I must have gone to put my wallet in my purse, and put it in his coat pocket instead,"

"Wait…what did you do?" Rebecca looked at me confused.

I looked up, "Remember I said he let me wear his coat last night because I was cold? Well I gave it back to him this morning and I was in such a rush I must have accidentally slipped my wallet into his pocket instead of into my purse,"

"Accidentally on purpose!" Susan exclaimed, "You put your wallet into his pocket so you would have to go over and see him again, or he would have to bring it to you!" Susan smiled triumphantly, "You do like him don't you!"

"No," I said firmly, but I knew I was lying. I had enjoyed our night together. He had been heartbroken and solemn but at least he had not been jaded. He had been smart, God knows he had been polite, and at the end of the night he had not turned into an amoeba whose sole intent was getting through the door and into the bed. In New York a man who acted normal, even if he didn't look normal, was so rare it was like moving more then ten blocks in noonday downtown traffic in under fifteen minutes.

And I wanted to see him again; there was only one problem.

"Listen when he gets here, I have to warn you; one side of his face is really strange looking," I tried to explain this tactfully.

"Strange like lazy eye strange or like elephant man strange?" Jackie said.

"Closer to the elephant man side of the spectrum," I said seriously.

"Eww, really?" Susan shrieked; her fairy tale romance was shattered as the handsome prince became the ogre.

"Susan, are you twelve? You don't say 'eww,' and you have to be nice to him," I said, and as I waited, my eyes on the door, I wondered what would happen because of my little wallet slip.

BLOOPERS AND FUNNY STUFF!

Guys, just a thought, who should be cast in the roles of all the characters? LOL tell me what you think!

I rapped on his door; he answered almost immediately.

(Erik opens the door dressed in full on Don Juan attire, leans seductively against the door frame)

"Hey baby,"

Olivia laughs hysterically, as does rest of filming crew.

"CUT!"

I rapped on his door; he answered almost immediately.

(Erik opens the door with no shirt on)

"Hey baby"

"CUT!"

(Olivia knocks on Erik's door and then runs away before he opens the door. Erik opens the door and no one is there)

Laughter from Erik and crew.

"CUT!"

I rapped on his door; he answered almost immediately; looking as though he had not slept at.

Erik looks to Olivia expectedly. Olivia shakes her head and laughs, "I have no idea why I am here!"

Erik is laughing to, "The one time we get it right and she forgets her line!"