by Dylan Allen
“It’s not really something I’ve considered. I have my dream job.” She returns.
“Is it really your dream job?” Cara draws out the word dream. “Could you do the work you’re doing now, happily, for the rest of your career?”
Addie sighs. “I don’t know. Honestly, it’s just all I ever wanted for years. It’s the only real vision I’ve had for myself as far as a career goes.”
She looks wistful and slightly sad; I don’t want that so I change the subject.
“So Louis, when are you pulling up sticks and moving to Paris?”
Louis and Cara glance at each other and nod.
“What?” Addie and I ask almost in unison.
“Well, we were going to tell you tonight, but since you brought it up…”
Cara pauses and look at Louis, her eyes shining with tears. They stare at each other like no one else is in the room.
Addie and I look at each other and grin. I am sure if we left right now, they wouldn’t notice. Addie reaches out to grab my hand as we sit and wait for whatever they are about to say.
“We’re getting married.” Cara burst out suddenly, excitement lighting up her eyes.
Addie’s reaction is instantaneous. She leaps to her feet and runs across the tiny living room to virtually tackle Cara. They dissolve into a cacophony of laughter and exclamations.
I stand up and walk over to my best friend. My smile is broad, and I know my eyes are full of pride and joy. I am not always the most expressive person, but with the people I care about, I can’t hold back.
I’ve known Louis since we were sniveling fourteen-year-olds, and almost fifteen years of friendship has only seen us grow closer. I have never seen him happier or more certain.
“Congrats, brother.” I reach out to shake his hand.
His hand grips mine, and we pull each other into a bear hug.
“Thanks, man. I can’t believe I found her.” His voice cracks on that last sentence, and I can only smile in response.
“Well, shit. I can’t either. You’re a fucking reprobate, she is a ballet dancer.”
“Don’t I know it, mate? She is way too good for me, but fuck if I’m going to do anything to remind her of that.” he says with a grin.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask.
“The only one there can be. I’m moving. The London Ballet has agreed to let me out of contract early, and I’m in touch with some of the producers in Paris. They need set designers here, too.”
“So you’re leaving me to face London all by myself?”
“I have a feeling you won’t be facing it by yourself at all.” He nods toward Addie and Cara. They are sitting, arms wrapped around each other with Addie’s head is thrown back in a fit of laughter. I pull out my phone and snap a picture of her like that. It’s how I want to think of her. Happy, lighthearted, and surrounded by the people she loves.
“No, man. Not at all. You’re not the only one who can’t believe his luck,” I admit. “It’s like finding something I didn’t even know I was looking for. She is amazing.”
“Well, fuck me. We sound like two Byronic idiots.”
“Byron was quite a hit in his day,” Cara calls over from the couch.
We all laugh, and I catch Addie’s eye. She winks at me, and I wink back. We are both happy for our friends, but this is more than we could have hoped for ourselves.
This is the start of something. This moment. I can feel it. I can’t wait for tomorrow. I know I’ve gotten her hopes up about what I’ve planned. It’s not really anything special. Addie likes to shop and she loves to eat, so we are doing both of those things all day.
At the end of the day, though, I am taking her somewhere special, and I want to tell I love her.
I hope it won’t be a surprise, I hope my actions have spoken the sentiment repeatedly. In case they haven’t, though, I want to make the first time I utter those words to a woman to be something both of us will never forget.
November 29, 2014
My morning stretch on Saturday is delicious. I start with my toes and work all the way up to my neck.
Yesterday was the most glorious day. Cara and Louis’ news was so exciting and unexpected. There was something so special about being with Simon when they told us. Our eyes met during a moment of unadulterated happiness and we seemed to reach an understanding, making me feel weightless.
We drank champagne with them and stayed at their apartment until well after midnight, talking and laughing.
Cara seems at home with Louis and in Paris. This move has been great for her. Her position with the Paris ballet has given her an international spotlight. She is at the height of her career. Dancing the best ballet of her life and at the same time she has found the love of her life.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence.
I roll to my side and watch Simon sleeping. His beautiful, perfectly bowed lips are parted as he snores softly.
I stare at him.
He was in such a romantic mood last night. I think he was caught up in the moment of Cara and Louis’ news.
When we got home, he stripped me slowly. When we had sex, it was tender and slow, and while the passion between us always flares hot, he took his time. It felt like making love.
He murmured words in my ear that were building monuments of hope in my heart. I am so head over heels in love with this man. I can hardly stand it.
I want to tell him, but I also feel like I need to tell him about my father. I don’t want any lies between us.
I can’t bring myself to tell him though. A groan, involuntarily, escapes me as I contemplate my self-created dilemma.
Simon’s lushly lashed eyes flutter open and meet mine in a remarkably clear gaze. “Good morning, Adelaide,” he mumbles sleepily.
“Nobody calls me Adelaide unless I’m in trouble.” I scoff at him, but lean down to press a quick kiss to his lips.
I glance at the clock, it’s almost 9:30am and breakfast should be delivered any minute. This hotel is incredible. It is by far the most unique and luxurious place I have ever stayed.
We have a butler assigned to the room, but he is almost invisible. He appears immediately when we dial his number and then like a ghost, he’s gone.
Yesterday, when we got back I dialed his number to ask about breakfast. He showed up at our door in his full uniform less than a minute later with the breakfast menu, took our order, including the time we wanted it delivered, and he was gone.
And just as I am having these thoughts, our room’s phone rings. I pick it up and it’s our butler asking whether breakfast can be brought in. I say yes, and the door to our suite opens and we hear a cheerful, “Bonjour mes bon gens.”
I scramble under the covers and pull them up to my chin. A troupe of people walk in with their eyes averted and bright smiles in place.
A rolling tray is brought to each side of our bed and Simon I and sit there as our breakfast is laid out on the trays in front of us.
Scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, a basket of croissants, brioches, pain au chocolat, and other freshly baked breads steam up at us from their artfully designed plates.
Fruit salad, yoghurt, and granola round out this smorgasbord of mouthwatering delights.
A beautiful china cup, the same green and gold as the decor in our suite, is placed in front of me and the beautiful aroma of espresso assails my senses as it’s poured from a silver percolator.
I glance at Simon and we grin at each other like kids who have broken into a palace and are waiting for someone to realize we don’t belong. It’s all so decadent. They serve our breakfast and leave quickly.
We eat at a leisurely pace before we get out of bed and shower. The shower here is too small for us to even think about fucking in it, but when we’re done, Simon throws me up on the counter and eats me out until I come twice.
Soon, we are in a taxi headed to Saint Germain des Prés. It is the most quintessentially “Parisian” part of the city. It’s also my favorite place to visit. Loc
ated on Paris’ Left Bank, it’s home to the best shopping and food— my two favorite things in the world.
Simon is mum about our itinerary. I get it one stop at a time.
We pull up outside the Le Bon Marche. If you love to shop, this place is your paradise. It’s the greatest department store I’ve ever seen.
Simon lets me shop without a hint of complaint. Of course, since I spent the bulk of my time buying lingerie, he didn’t have much to complain about. I went a little crazy, but there is nothing like the lingerie in Paris, so I stocked up.
We leave and stroll down to the most beautiful Hermes store on the planet on Rue de Sevres. I buy Simon a tie while he was busy reading the news on his phone. I can’t wait to surprise him.
We walk along the Seine, holding hands, stopping at the ramshackle green booths dotting the street. We explore the beautiful prints and second hand literary treasures they have to offer. I buy souvenirs for my sisters, my nephew, and even my mother.
We both lose track of time as we walk. Simon’s camera clicks furiously as he finds architectural inspiration in the buildings and structures in the area.
We didn’t talk much and it feels nice to be quiet while still being with someone. I am a person who enjoys my solitude. In fact, I crave it. It’s when I am able to think clearly and relax.
That is what being with Simon is like. I feel at peace with this man. Walking down the street, holding his hand, in a foreign country, away from the madness of my life, I feel safe.
I squeeze Simon’s hand as I have this thought. He looks down at me a smiles. We stop walking and he leans down to kiss me.
“You okay, babe?”
“Yes, but are you trying to starve me or what?”
He laughs at this and for a second, I just watch him, his head thrown back and I forget my hunger. “No, greedy guts.”
This earns him a pinch on the side.
“Ouch! No, I haven’t forgotten. We’re on our way to eat now. Will you be able to control your mammoth appetite until we get there?” He quips.
“Hey, I am getting sick of your pokes at how much I eat. You eat way more than I do,” I pout.
“I’m just kidding, Addie, your healthy appetite is one of the things I like best about you. Come on, lunch is around the corner”
To eat, we head back to the 9th Arrondissement. He takes me to a place called The Musee de La Vie Romantique. Which translates to Museum for Romantics. It sits at the foot of Montmartre hill and is full of beautiful paintings.
It has a restaurant called the Tea Room. It is an enclosed garden with little green metals tables and chairs that only seat two people each.
The portions look tiny, but are perfect.
We drink wine and spend the warmest part of the day in this beautiful place.
We also talk.
Simon tells me for the first time about how he felt the day he found out his mother died.
“I feel ashamed I wasn’t sad. I feel like somehow it makes me a monster that I didn’t love my mother. But after what she did to Kyle and Ashley, I couldn’t feel anything but loathing for her. I couldn’t even bare to go get her remains after she died. What does this say about the kind of person I am, Addie?” His eyes are anguished, his voice hoarse.
“It says you’re a man who loves your brother and your sister. They were defenseless. They were the people who didn’t have a choice. You can’t help how you feel. You need to stop beating yourself up for it.”
I take his hand with my right hand and bring my left hand to cup his cheek.
“You stepped into a breach at a moment when your family was falling apart to save your brother, your sister, and then Henry. You have given to them tirelessly and those actions are the indicators of your character. Not what you feel for a woman who abused and disappointed you your entire life.”
I gaze into his beautiful brown eyes and hope he can see my earnestness.
“I love you, Addie.” Simon looks as shocked as I feel to hear him blurt it out.
Holy fucking shit.
I stare at him and he stares at me; I am utterly speechless.
Simon rushes on.
“You don’t have to say anything. I know you might not be there yet, I was going to tell you later, but sitting here with you understanding me in a way I don’t understand myself and it just spilled out.”
He sounds so nervous, almost scared, I lean over to place a kiss on his lips to silence him.
I withdraw slightly to look into the eyes I love more than any other pair in the world.
“I love you, too, Simon. So much. How could I not, baby? Look at how gorgeous my life has been since I met you.”
He leans forward to kiss me while his hand slips to the back of my head. It goes from a sweet kiss, to his tongue stroking mine with a fervor that has me whimpering. Simon pulls back a bit so that our kiss is one of just lips nibbling and stroking.
“Addie, I could kiss you forever.” He mumbles against my mouth.
It’s wonderful being in Paris, where lovers kissing passionately doesn’t cause anyone to blink an eye.
Simon pulls back. “If we don’t stop, I’m going to take you back to the hotel and fuck you for the rest of the night. And then we’d miss seeing Cara and you’d blame me.”
“Just a little bit longer, Simon,” I plead
“Addie, we can’t be late tonight. The tickets were almost impossible to get.”
I roll my eyes. “Simon, I won’t be late. I’ll be faster than you.”
His laughter is spontaneous and mirthful. “Please, don’t lie. I don’t want to be struck by lightning. I can’t count the number of times we’ve missed the opening scenes of movies because of you.”
“Well, if you’re so worried, why are you sitting here running your mouth? Let’s go get dressed Speedy Gonzalez.”
And the man of my dreams stands up, takes my hand, and leads me out of the place where we had exchanged our first “I love you.”
We stop at the scenic entrance and take a selfie. In it, my head is tucked into his shoulder, his head is on top of mine. Our eyes are looking straight at the camera.
This picture will come to be the thing I cling to in the months to come. Simon, looking like he thinks he has found paradise. And me looking like I know I have.
November 29, 2014
When we arrive back at our room, Addie is talking a mile a minute about our evening out. Cara’s debut performance is tonight and we are here to lend our support.
She doesn’t notice the packages waiting on the bed. In fact, she walks right past them into the bathroom.
“I hope the dress I brought is nice enough. I mean, the ballet in London is a lot more casual than it is here. And I’m best friends with one of the Etoiles of the ballet.”
She comes back out of the bathroom, and I am momentarily distracted by her near nudity. I am drawn out of my admiration of her curvy ass by a squeal. “Simon, oh my goodness! What is this?!” She finally sees the pile of boxes and bags on the bed.
About a month ago, Addie told me how on her first day of at work at LaSalle and Willis she wore a blouse by a young Nigerian-German designer whose work she admired tremendously, but could only rarely afford.
So, when we planned this trip, I found the designer. She only makes bespoke clothing, so I commissioned a dress for Addie especially for tonight. She had all of Addie’s measurements from making the blouse, so it was actually pretty easy.
The designer’s team also picked out shoes and accessories and had everything delivered to the hotel a few days ago. Our butler had it delivered to the room while we were out.
Addie rips the packaging apart with an enthusiasm that absolutely delights me. There is nothing artificial about this woman. She is unabashed in her excitement.
“Simon.” She sings my name as she holds the dress against her and twirls.
She runs to me and throws her little body at me, wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck.
“You spoil
me. This entire trip has been amazing. This hotel, the day you planned, and now this dress and those shoes. Thank you. No one has ever treated me like this. I can’t believe how happy I am.”
She plants a kiss on my mouth just as I start to try to deepen it and my cock starts to respond to the press of her hot pussy so close to it, she breaks the kiss and hops down.
“I’m going to shower and start getting ready. I’ll be quick and then you can go.”
She runs into the bathroom, where I hear the shower turn on.
And so begins the whirlwind that is Addie getting ready. I go to the closet to get out my tux for the evening and as I am doing that, I remember a night a few weeks ago when Addie agreed to come and babysit, so Kyle and I could go catch a Man City vs. Arsenal match at the pub.
“We’re going to miss the kickoff, Simon! Call her again,” Kyle nearly shouts as he paces back and forth across our living room.
“I called her five minutes ago. She must be on the tube, since it went straight to voicemail, mate, she will be here.” I say this with a confidence I don’t feel.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time. I start to send Addie a text when I hear a knock on the door.
Thank fuck!
I walk over to open the door and Addie rushes in.
“Sorry, guys, I had to stop for something.” She says as she drops her bags, one of them a huge Boots the Chemist bag, and coat in the kitchen. She comes into the living room and walks toward me, a beautiful, if harried smile on her face. She leans in, kisses me quickly, pulls away, and goes to hug Kyle.
Kyle disengages from the hug, glaring at her he shrugs on his jacket. “It better have been some lifesaving medicine, Addie. We’re going have to run to not miss kickoff.”
Addie glares back. “I said I was sorry, Kyle. Instead of standing here, you should be hustling out the door. Is Henry down for the night?”
I’ve just put my own jacket on and put my hands on her hips. I pull her close to me. She smells like the cold crisp air, peppermint, and Addie. I hug her while whispering in her ear, “Yeah, he is. Thanks for this, baby.”
She smiles up at me. Her eyes, the gold I am coming to associate with everything good, sparkle. She whispers back, “Anything to spend time with that beautiful little boy. And anything for you.”
