by L. W. Clark
“Pouvons-nous parler en anglais?” Gilles said, once again asking them to speak English.
They all just looked at Gilles and started to quiet down.
I’m feeling really good from all this alcohol. Ah, what the hell.
“Ça va bien avec moi, Gilles, s’il vous plaît. J’aime entendre parler français.” It’s okay with me Gilles, please. I love hearing French, I said, as I put my hand on his.
Well, that made an impression. Now there are seven pairs of eyes staring at me. I might as well keep going.
“Salutations pour la famille, je suis plus qu’heureux de vous rencontrer tous.” Greetings to the family. I’m more than happy to meet you all, I said.
“Cheers,” I said as I raised my glass.
“Cheers,” they said slowly, eyes wide.
After dinner, we moved near the fireplace where dessert was served, along with more drinks. Gilles’s mother sat next to me and Gilles and his father were standing as they had a conversation over drinks. The sisters were a little buzzed and chatty with their husbands.
“I’m so glad to meet you,” Jeanne-Marie said.
“Thank you. I am very happy to meet you as well,” I said.
“I hope you and Gilles will visit us in Paris sometime soon,” she said. “You can improve your French,” she smiled.
Did she just criticize my French?
“Gilles used to come to Paris often, but not anymore. I miss him,” she said.
“I’d love to visit Paris and see you and all of his family more often,” I said.
“Thank you,” she said, nodding her head. “Gilles is always busy with his business. And now he has you. He used to visit us and bring Mark. Mark is Gilles’s good friend and personal designer. I see Mark more often than Gilles these days. He is such a talented guy. Have you met him?”
“Yes, I have. He’s great.”
“Once my husband and I hosted a dinner for the French president and his wife at our chateau outside of Paris. There were around eighty people. I asked Mark to decorate the chateau and the dinner table. Since then, Mark is well known around Paris. He’s got a great business there. Whenever he travels to Paris, he always comes to visit.”
After dessert and coffee, and a few more conversations, we said our goodnights.
“I’m looking forward to seeing the children tomorrow,” I said to Gilles’s sisters.
Gilles’s mother came up to me and said goodnight with a handshake. His father kissed me on each cheek. Very European. I was exhausted because of my tight dress and from controlling myself, trying to look calm and glamorous.
Right after the guests left, I went upstairs to unleash my body. The dress was so beautiful, and it made me so pretty, but when I took it off it was a relief. I made myself comfortable in my robe and went back downstairs looking for dessert. I grabbed a slice of the meringue almond cake and indulged myself. Meanwhile, Gilles came downstairs and joined my party.
“I’m so glad this dinner is over. I’m so tired,” he said. “May I have a bite? Watching you makes me want something sweet.”
He sat closer to me and I fed him a piece of cake.
“I hope your family had a good time,” I said.
He was quiet. After having a few more bites he calmed down.
“They all seem like nice people.” I continued to probe.
“My father liked you, that’s for sure.”
“How do you know? Did he say something?”
“No, he never says things like that. I just know.”
“You just know?”
“Well, when he said goodbye, he kissed you. That’s how I know. He only kisses people he likes. I know his mannerisms. But he doesn’t know I know,” he smiled.
“What about your mother? Do you know her mannerisms?”
“My mother? She’s funny... she said she was glad you have small breasts. It’s a French thing.”
I laughed.
“She speaks highly of Mark,” I said.
“Oh really?” he smiled. “She’s such a good actress.”
Gilles launched into stories about his childhood with his father. None about his mother. As I listened, I mindlessly ate and fed Gilles with the cake. When he finished his stories, I went to the kitchen to get more cake, but it was gone. We laughed about how much we had eaten and went upstairs.
“We were like a real husband and wife tonight,” he said. “We even shared the plate, and now we’re going to share the bed. You know what happens next?”
I think we had too much sugar.
TWENTY-NINE
January 2000, Manhattan
We had been together for two years, and most of the gossip about Gilles had faded away. He was a happily married man.
One evening, I was invited to a charity dinner by Kaley Wainwright, the wife of one of Gilles’s friends. Gilles never liked me going by myself to these dinners unless it was for a worthy cause. Too much potential for drama. We were already going out to so many events that it was fine with me to skip it. None of the women were near my age and I had zero in common with them. Despite all that, Gilles asked me to go to Kaley’s event. He felt the need to be respectful to his friend, so I agreed.
It was a small, selective crowd. After a few drinks and chatting with many kinds of women on many different subjects, I felt bored. I went to the bathroom to freshen up. While I was in the toilet, I heard two women come in, laughing loudly about something. They sounded drunk. Then one of them mentioned me, asking the other who I was.
“She’s Gilles’s wife. You know him. You know his story, don’t you?”
“I’ve heard of him from my husband.”
“Between us, he married this girl to distract everyone about the rumors about him. They say he’s really attracted to men.”
“Really? How is that possible if he’s married and sleeps with a woman?”
“I don’t know if it’s true or not. For years my husband was one of Gilles’s most successful traders. But after a big disagreement, Gilles let him go. You know Charlie. He can get so angry and he just doesn’t let things go. He’s going after him.”
“What is he going to do?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t say. But Charlie told me the paparazzi will be chasing him down tonight. You know, with Charlie’s new job we have a lot of contacts with the media. His wife is here alone, so where is her husband? You’ll see. We’ll destroy him,” she laughed.
I stayed in the stall until they left. I called Gilles but he didn’t pick up. I knew where he was. He was attending a dinner for French actors at the Carlyle Hotel and he was with Mark. I was worried he might drink too much and lose control. I left for the Carlyle. I ran into the hotel and found the private dining room, but a waiter told me all the guests had just left. I kept calling Gilles, but he didn’t answer. I went to the front desk and asked them to make a phone call to the room under the name Durand. Gilles answered.
I went up to their room and told them what I heard.
“Well, I guess Charlie never got over getting fired,” Gilles said. “Good thing you were there and came here. Thank you, Alyssa.”
“Of course, but what are we going to do now?” I asked.
“Well I think you should stay here with us, and help us finish all this champagne,” Gilles said smiling. “What do you think Mark?”
“Sounds good to me!” Mark said.
“But what about the press?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll get tired and go home after a while. Here, have a drink,” he said, handing me a glass of champagne.
I took the glass as I looked at both of them, shaking my head and smiling.
“You two,” I said, as we all laughed.
Architectural Digest called Gilles a few times requesting an interview with the two of us about our life together, and to take some pictures of the house. He would say no, but then he finally gave in. Gilles was a private person, but in this case, he thought it would be a good way to showcase his faithful marriage and counter any
lingering gossip.
It was organized chaos that day. There were reporters, photographers and designers running every which way. The house was decorated by Mark and his team while Gilles and I were decorated by costume designers and make-up artists. We had a full day of interviews and photoshoots, with a few breaks. The shooting started in the dining area with the table set for dinner. We moved on to the office with all the books, and then to the bedroom where they asked us to sit next to each other in a romantic pose. We took some shots on the balcony, playing with a dog that Mark hired for the day. We finished in the living room on the couch by the fireplace as a loving couple. On this last shoot my attention was drawn to Mark. He did such an excellent job, as always, but something made me sad.
Mark should be sitting next to Gilles instead of me right now. Why can’t these two people be free, together? Who decides what’s right or wrong when it comes to love? Two adults should be able to choose for themselves, to be themselves. What difference does it make who loves who? As long as we don’t harm others, we should be able to express our love any way we want. Isn’t it important to just be kind and to respect one another? Then why can’t we respect people’s choices about who they want to be with and love, and be kind to them?
I was so distracted with my thoughts until I heard the photographer.
“We need you to smile, let’s see a happy smile.”
About a month later, Gilles came home holding an issue of Architectural Digest with us on the cover. I followed him as he went to the living room, poured a glass of scotch and sat down. I took the magazine from him as he stared at me in silence. Because of his serious look I quickly went through the pages, trying to find something wrong with the pictures or the articles. But it all seemed fine. We looked like a happy couple. I couldn’t wait to spend some quality time with the magazine.
“You look so damn beautiful,” he said. “I’m so proud to call you my wife. I wish I didn’t have to do these things but maybe now they’ll leave me alone, especially that bastard Charlie. I’m so done with him.”
He’s satisfied and angry at the same time.
“Come here, darling. Sit next to me,” he said.
I moved to his side and sat quietly. He hugged me and took a deep breath. Then he squeezed me so tight and long I thought I was going to pass out. He put his hand on my face and kissed me.
“You’re so feminine, and so considerate. You’ve made my life so much easier with your love and warmth. How can you do all these things so naturally? What am I going to do with you?” he smiled as he looked at me.
His look always makes me blush.
“Why don’t we celebrate this tonight? Let’s go out and party all night,” he said.
Fun Gilles has arrived. How can I say no? I love going out with him. More than just about anything.
“Is Mark coming with us?” I asked.
“Maybe he’ll join us later. I think he’s having dinner with one of his clients.”
After dinner at the Four Seasons restaurant, we went out to a nightclub where Mark joined us. After clubbing we were all wide awake and energized. We stopped at Joe’s Pizza in the Village. It’s so good. Sometimes a slice of pizza tastes better than high-end restaurant food. We went home and went to the balcony. It was a cold March night but thanks to the heater lamp we were able to have drinks there.
“Look what I got from an old friend I ran into at the club,” Mark said as he took a joint out of his pocket. “He said it’s pretty strong.”
“Let’s see if your old friend is right,” I said.
After passing the joint around a couple of times we all got the giggles. We laughed and laughed, about anything and everything. We even laughed about laughing. Tears rolled down our faces and my jaws were sore from laughing.
It was about noon when I woke up. I was alive but I couldn’t move. My body felt so heavy. I thought the pain was from all the dancing at the club. I slowly turned my head to the right and I saw Gilles, sleeping peacefully. He looked like he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon. I then moved my heavy head to the left and I saw Mark. He was also in a deep sleep with his mouth open.
Am I awake or am I dreaming?
I opened my eyes wider and looked straight at the ceiling. I tried to remember but nothing came. I just kept staring. After about ten minutes I squeezed out from between these two, wide-shoulder bodies and quietly disappeared. I went to my bedroom and took a shower. I felt dizzy and sleepy. I crashed until the phone rang.
Why is it so damn loud?
I thought about getting up but instead rolled over and went back to sleep.
It was now April, and I had invited Kalian and Silvia to brunch. I felt bad that I hadn’t seen them for a while. I planned to take them to brunch and then do some shopping. I wanted to treat them the way I liked to be treated. They were both special to me, and always will be. They were there for me when I went through some hard times. Kalian helped save my job and Silvia helped save my sanity.
We met at Rue 57. It was a beautiful spring day. We had so much to talk about. Kalian was still working for Anna and Michael. Her goal was to save up enough money to go to nursing school. She had a boyfriend and she was hoping to get married.
Silvia lived in the same apartment with a new roommate, whom she complained about. She said she hadn’t planned to have a roommate, but she desperately needed to save up some money for a trip to see her father, who was seriously ill. She wanted to be in a relationship, but it seemed to me she wasn’t really trying that hard.
After lunch we took a walk to Saks Fifth Avenue to do some shopping. I wanted to buy them gifts, and the best gift is when you get exactly what you want. I told them to buy whatever they wanted. Well, every girl loves pocketbooks and shoes. It’s typical. It was a wonderful day for all of us. When I got home, I found Gilles by himself, reading in his office. We kissed.
“Gilles, you remember my friends, Kalian and Silvia? They’re the girls who helped me so much when I first moved here.”
“Sure, I remember.”
“Well … uhh … I’m not sure if … umm …”
“Alyssa, what is it? Just say it.”
“OK … well … both of them are trying to save money. Kalian for nursing school, and Silvia to go see her father, who is very ill. I know what it’s like to try to save money when you’re living paycheck to paycheck. I would really like to …”
“Yes,” Gilles said, taking my hand. “Of course. They’re like your family so they’re important to me as well. Let me know what they need and I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you, Gilles, this means so much to me” I said as I hugged him. “You’re so generous. One of the many reasons I love you.”
Silvia was with her father when he passed away. She stayed there with her mother for a few months. She called me when she returned. She wanted to see me and give me some gifts. Kalian became a full-time nursing student, and she called to say she was engaged.
“Congratulations Kalian! What great news! I am so happy and excited for you.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I think that pocketbook brought me good luck.”
“It wasn’t the pocketbook,” I said laughing. “It was you.”
THIRTY
May 2001, Manhattan
Spring always makes me excited. It reminds me of the day Gilles and I met in Central Park. I can even remember the smell. I remember I was in such a hurry to meet him. And when I saw him, I just liked him, for no reason. It seems like yesterday.
It’s been more than three years since I started living with him, and sharing his crazy, busy, lavish, intense, weird and sexy lifestyle. Sometimes it’s hectic, but most of the time it’s fascinating. With constant meet-and-greets, dinners and events, with interesting, and not-so-interesting people. With lots of walking and talking in Central Park, in hot or cold weather. And lots of traveling, which includes more dinners. Dining out happens a lot.
I was always attracted to Gilles, but today I’m more in love with hi
m than ever. It sounds crazy, but he’s the man with the character I admire. I’ve learned so much and had so many life experiences with him. He’s given me everything. He’s made my life easy, in so many ways.
Life is like a roller-coaster. We just need to hang on, hold tight and don’t fall off even when it’s difficult. I started life as a carefree child in a wealthy family. Then my father died, and we plummeted. I fell into a life of poverty, where every day was a struggle. Now, I’m back on the high road again, and it’s even better than before. Now I’m grateful, and I don’t take anything for granted. And today I became a student of international and public affairs at Columbia University. I couldn’t be happier, thanks to Gilles.
“If it weren’t for you, I’d never have this opportunity to attend one of the most prestigious universities in the world,” I said to him once. “Thank you.”
“Why do you think that way?” he asked.
“How else to think? You’re the one who opened the door for me and gave me a chance.”
“You would’ve found a way to open the door, with or without me. When you desperately want something, believe in something and work on it, then it happens. It has nothing to do with me. It’s you, all you.”
Maybe he’s right. It’s true that when we intensely desire something and hold it in our thoughts, we get it—eventually. Especially if we behave like we already have it. But I still think it was more him than me.
I haven’t seen my family in years. For more than a year, whenever I asked Gilles about going to see them, he’d have some dinner or another event where he needed me to be with him. He would politely ask me to push the travel to a later date. The interesting thing was I didn’t mind the delay. Mostly I was relieved, and I wouldn’t try to persuade him. Before, I was counting the days to go back. I was dreaming every night about going back to my country. But lately I haven’t felt it was so urgent.
In the not so distant past, the constant delays in going to see my family would upset me. But I was different now. I had become more aware, more present and less emotional. I observed my reactions to situations and instead of becoming emotional, I accepted them and thought about how to respond. I’m not sure what caused the change. Was it the lifestyle that Gilles provided, where I didn’t have to worry about pure survival? Or my internal evolution? Or both?
