A French Girl In New York

by Anna Adams

  Men, Frenchmen being no exception, are often ridiculously surprised at how insecure they can feel when they start falling for a woman who appears haughtily immune to their clumsily endearing manoeuvres.

  In the present case, Matt had made the mistake of falling in love with one of the proudest women he would ever cross paths with. For Maude would have rather died in atrocious sufferings than to admit that she regretted her heated argument with Matt. Besides, she didn’t have a minute to herself, and Matt was just a distraction she really didn’t need, especially not while singing ‘Falling For You.’

  Maude’s eyes met Matt through the glass as she sang the chorus. She resolutely shut her eyes tight and took a closer step to the microphone. She had more important things to think about.

  She needed to go to Paris to retrieve the box her mother had left her, but she had not the faintest clue how to proceed. She would soon be returning to Carvin and had to find a way to go to Paris before being locked up in the Ruchets’ basement for the next ten years of her life.

  However, at least before that gloomy perspective became her dreary, day-to-day reality, Maude’s social calendar was packed.

  In three days, her first single, ‘Betrayed But Not Broken’ was to be released and a week later she was to attend Franklin High’s annual Summer Dance. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time. These events were worth looking forward to but were at the same time a reminder that the end of her stay was inevitably and ineluctably coming to an end.

  “All right, Maude, that was great,” Matt said at the other side of the room. “Let’s take five. Apparently, James and Alan want to speak to us in the conference room.”

  “About what?” Maude asked, as she joined him in the sound room.

  “About your release party,” Alan answered as he and James entered the room.

  “I am totally ready to perform. I’ve been practicing for—”

  “You won’t be performing,” Alan stated bluntly.

  “What?” Maude interjected.

  “We have decided,” Alan started. He turned towards James, who wore an expression of deep disproval but who remained silent. “We have decided that you weren’t ready to perform.”

  “I am ready,” Maude insisted. “If this is about what happened with La Cenerentola—”

  “It has everything to do with that evening.”

  “A release party is meant to promote the artist,” Matt intervened. “What’s the use of throwing a release party if no one even gets to hear her sing?”

  “There will be reporters, producers, people from the music business. It’s too much pressure on Maude for now. Once the single is a hit, she will sing at other events. For now, the stakes are too high.”

  “I made one huge mistake, I know that,” Maude pleaded. “I’m never making that mistake again. I can sing Friday night, Alan.”

  “How do I know you’re not going to have a serious case of stage-fright again, huh?”

  “It wasn’t stage-fright, Alan! I—” Maude stopped short. Alan was the last person who needed to know about her issues with Mrs. Ruchet.

  “So what? You’re going to keep her cooped up for the rest of her career?” Matt sneered. “She’s a singer, Alan. Singing in public is part of her job, and she needs to do it every occasion she gets. She’s ready for this.”

  “No,” Alan said firmly. “Instead, you two are going to be promoting this single to every reporter in the room. You’ll be interviewed together, you’ll smile to the camera and say ‘cheese’ for the entire evening.”

  “Together?” Maude asked.

  “You heard me. We’re going to be selling you two just as if your first single had been ‘Paris Versus New York City.’ You’ll tell them how great you work together, that you’re the best of friends, that it was the greatest experience you ever had. You’re going to make this work,” Alan finished.

  He looked at them squarely in the eye before leaving the studio.

  Maude turned to James pleadingly.

  “I tried, Maude,” James said, as if reading her thoughts. “He won’t budge, and Travis agrees with him. I’m outnumbered. Just remember that this will still be your evening. Your music will be played, and your single will speak for itself,” he added softly.

  “I hope he’s right,” Maude whispered as she watched James leave.

  “We’ll do our best,” Matt replied. “I guess we’ve got to call a truce.”

  “A truce?”

  “I’m sure you’ve noticed we weren’t on the best of terms these last few weeks. We’ll have to pretend to be the best of friends for at least an evening,” Matt observed.

  Maude looked up at Matt and saw the usual mischievous twinkle in his eye.

  “I’m all in,” Maude answered. Somehow the idea of spending the entire evening with Matt didn’t seem to bother her in the least. But nevertheless, she said, “I guess I can manage having you around for one evening.”

  Soulville Towers had been turned inside and out for this occasion. It was like an open house where the guests were flowing from room to room with glasses of champagne in one or both hands. Alan Lewis had used his connections to gather the most influential people in the music industry to promote Maude’s first single while her music filled each room of Soulville.

  Matt was waiting for Maude, who was due to arrive soon, all the while speaking with an attractive reporter from the magazine Beats.

  The room quieted down as Maude made her entrance on the stage. Matt held his breath as if he was seeing her for the first time. She glided softly in an elegant coral, one-shoulder dress with a ruched bodice and flowing skirt. Her shoulder was draped with a row of flowers, the floral applique looking as soft as her brown skin. Her hair was elegantly coiffed but nothing stood out more than the wide smile that lit up her face, her eyes, and her entire being.

  “Hello, everyone,” she started smoothly. “I want to thank you all for coming this evening for the release of ‘Betrayed But Not Broken.’ I would also like to thank Soulville Records for making this dream come true. I especially couldn’t have done it without the most talented singer-songwriter I’ve met. Matt, thank you.”

  Matt understanding his cue, went on stage beside her like they had planned, and diligently proceeded to smile at the cameras.

  “We will be answering all your questions. I hope you’ll enjoy this wonderful evening!”

  Maude and Matt left the stage and were immediately led away by Beats reporter Lexie Staz who led them towards the studio. She was tall, in a silver dress and black Louboutins. She hid behind large Ray-Ban glasses and a childish grin. Behind her glasses and her naïve look was a woman with a remarkable sense of detail. She fed on information and reveled in discovering hidden detail, masked expressions, and secrets of any kind.

  “So, I want to know everything about your collaboration,” she started with a dazzling smile.

  “Ask away,” Maude answered.

  “How was it? Did you always see eye to eye on everything, or were there times where you wanted to rip each others throats?”

  Maude and Matt looked at each other and laughed.

  “I can’t say we got off on the best foot,” Maude answered between laughs. “The first time we met, Matt spilled coffee on my brand-new coat.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” Matt put in playfully.

  “As we worked together, we got to know each other better. Matt has taught me so much about music, about writing and singing, and gradually, we really . . . clicked. When I arrived from France, all I knew were French artists and classical music, and he really helped me discover all sorts of different styles and rhythms.”

  “Like you said, you’re French and so is Matt. Which language do you speak when you’re together?”

  “English, of course!” Maude exclaimed, thinking of the only time she had spoken in French to Matt.

  “Except when she’s angry at me,” Matt added slyly as if reading in Maude’s thoughts.

  “That hap
pened once!” Maude exclaimed in mock indignation.

  Lexie Staz laughed at Maude’s indignation then pursed her lips musingly.

  “And you’re away from your family and friends in France? Don’t you miss them?”

  A dark shadow clouded Maude’s face for a split second. She quickly smiled again before answering.

  “James Baldwin and his family have been great. They’ve treated me like I was one of their own and I will never forget it.”

  “About the creation process, now. In this album and notably in ‘Betrayed But Not Broken,’ you use a wide range of musical styles from rhythm and blues, to soul, pop, and of course, classical music. What are your influences?”

  “Like I said, before coming to New York, I only knew classical music and French artists. Matt broadened my views, and we wanted to put a large range of influences in this album. In ‘Betrayed But Not Broken,’ the piano solos are quite classical, I was inspired by Beethoven’s Tempest to portray a poignant emotional distress.”

  Lexie’s eyes seemed to bore holes through Maude.

  “Were you in a state of emotional distress when you wrote this song? Is this song aimed at someone in particular?”

  Maude hesitated, disconcerted.

  “The first thing I taught Maude,” Matt put in. “Is that the best music comes from suffering. Speaking about suffering is something every good musician should be able to do. And Maude did it incredibly well in ‘Betrayed But Not Broken,’ in which she talks about the painful realization of betrayal one can feel. I think that everyone can relate to that.”

  Maude looked at Matt and sent him a silent thank you, which he perfectly understood.

  “And what about you Matt? How did you like working with Maude?”

  “I loved every second of it,” Matt said softly. He turned away from Maude and cleared his throat. “She’s one of the most talented singers I’ve ever worked with, and I look forward to working with her again.”

  Lexie Staz hadn’t missed Matt’s soft looks towards Maude, and wanted to discover what was beneath.

  “Your love life seems to have taken quite a toll. Since you’ve started working on this album, you haven’t been in the tabloids. Can you say that Maude has had a calming effect on you?”

  Matt laughed while Maude looked away. She felt uncomfortable speaking to a prying journalist about her work with Matt, especially concerning a supposed “calming effect” that she had never even observed.

  “I was out of the tabloids before working on Maude’s album, and you know it, Lexie. This album, however, has been a great experience if that’s what you mean.”

  “So, you mean to tell me that Maude and you haven’t ever considered becoming more than friends, even after spending so much time together in the studio?”

  “I’m not Maude’s type,” Matt said smooth as always.

  Lexie raised a curious eyebrow towards Maude, who was blushing profusely.

  “So, no special guy in your life, Maude?”

  “I honestly haven’t had the time. Working on the album didn’t really leave me any time to go on dates or getting to know guys.”

  “Except for Matt.”

  “Yes, but he’s more like a brother to me now so I’m still waiting for Mr. Right,” she said, almost flinching at the expression Mr. Right.

  “Sometimes Mr. Right is right under your nose,” Lexie Staz smiled mischievously. “Okay, that’s a wrap!” she said, turning her Dictaphone off.

  Then she scurried off like a small insect that had gotten everything she needed.

  Maude turned towards Matt.

  “How was I?”

  “It was fine for a first interview. You shouldn’t take her too seriously. Never speak too personally, or she’ll eat you alive.”

  “Thank God you answered about the question on suffering and betrayal.”

  “That’s typical Lexie Staz. And the next reporter who questions you on love or a boyfriend, just say a simple no. Don’t get into too many details.”

  “Or I’ll just say that I’m not your type if they ask me if we’re an item,” Maude sneered.

  “That would be an outright lie,” Matt replied suavely before pushing the studio door open and heading back towards a crowd of reporters.

  Maude followed him with a wide, pleased grin. She never would’ve thought she was Matt’s type being nothing like the glamorous celebrities he usually dated.

  They were inseparable for the following hours, smiling, answering every question with grace, wit and charm. Maude was starting to feel completely at ease and was enjoying herself so much that she barely saw time fly. But later in the evening, Maude felt a knot in her stomach as she saw Matt talking to a newcomer Maude knew too well.

  “Hi Maude,” Lindsey greeted sweetly as she approached.

  “I didn’t know you were on the guest list.”

  “Alan Lewis invited her,” Matt answered.

  “I’m so glad I came to this little gathering. Did I miss your performance?”

  “I’m not performing tonight, Lindsey, and you know it as well as I do,” Maude managed to say through gritted teeth.

  “What? No performance! That’s perfectly ridiculous!” Lindsey laughed. “Unless,” she continued. “Unless Alan Lewis is afraid you’ll run off the stage again.”

  Lindsey’s piercing laugh shrilled Maude’s ears.

  “Don’t worry, Maude I’m here now. You can perform, and if ever you want to run off stage, I’ll take up where you left off,” she finished snidely before walking away.

  Matt followed Lindsey determinedly and caught up with her as she took a glass of sparkling water from a waiter.

  “Lindsey, stop messing with Maude. You only end up appearing weak, threatened, and pathetic.”

  “You’re the pathetic one, Matt. Maude’s pathetic knight in shining armor who doesn’t even get the attention he so desperately craves. She doesn’t see you, Matt. I see you. And I know you.”

  “I don’t have feelings for Maude, Lindsey. And don’t psychoanalyze me. Just because we worked together on one song doesn’t mean you know me.”

  “It’s a good thing you feel nothing for her. From what I heard, Thomas and Maude are going to Franklin High’s Summer Dance together.”

  Matt had difficulty hiding his anger, but nevertheless managed to speak calmly.

  “You’re lying. Maude would never do such a thing. He stole her song!”

  “And provided inspiration for her first single. So, I guess they’re even. Besides, Thomas told me he wants them to date publicly so that she can boost her career.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “You think so?” Lindsey scoffed. “Why don’t you come with me to the Summer Dance and see for yourself?”

  Matt looked towards Maude, who was across the room talking animatedly to a reporter.

  They had barely spoken in weeks, but in the meantime, she had managed to forgive Thomas? His face hardened as he turned towards Lindsey.

  “Fine,” he muttered.

  Then he walked swiftly away, pinning a broad grin on his face as he approached Maude and the reporter.

  Maude instantly felt something was wrong. Although a smile was plastered on his face, Matt’s countenance grew increasingly cold as the evening waned away.

  Maude sighed interiorly, feeling like every time they made one step forwards, they immediately made two steps back.

  “Sweet, sweet, sweet! That was Maude Laurent’s new hit single ‘Betrayed But Not Broken.’ Didn’t you feel a shiver going down your spine? It was—”

  Lindsey angrily turned off her radio. Steven Jordan was always exaggerating and speaking in superlatives, and she refused to give any credit to anything he said. Or what any radio commentator had been saying these last few days. Hell, even the music critics were wrong. ‘Betrayed But Not Broken’ was sloppy, boring, and certainly not worth listening to. This entire buzz around Maude Laurent would die down soon.

  Lindsey shuffled to her Mac and scrolled down the
web page.

  “Damn it,” she muttered.

  The download craze of Maude’s new single still hadn’t subsided! It had exceeded ‘Paris Versus New York City’ in less than three days!

  Lindsey threw her Mac across the room in a fit of rage then crumbled limply to the floor.

  “As requested, Maude Laurent’s hit single coming right up!”

  The music streamed from the taxi’s worn out radio as Tim took in two new passengers in Brooklyn. He hummed the soft tune. He knew the lyrics by heart because his teenage daughter had already downloaded and listened to the song a million times.

  “Put the volume up,” a hipster in a woolen knit hat urged.

  Tim promptly did as he was told with a gleam in his eye.

  “Do you know that I drove Maude Laurent in this cab?”

  “You’re joking!” the hipster’s girlfriend said.

  “Not at all. She wasn’t famous back then,” Tim explained as if back then had been years ago instead of a few months back. “She was with Matt, and they both gave me autographs. I knew she’d become famous. She left me a large tip.”

  “Tell us everything you know about her.”

  “Well, there’s—”

  “Shh,” the hipster urged. “First let us listen to the song, then you can talk.”

  Tim shushed and smiled.

  “Melodious, harmoniously backed up by strong vocal skills, Maude Laurent is the voice of today’s generation,” James Baldwin finished, laying the latest edition of the New York Times in front of a pleased Alan Lewis.