Read Online Cognac & Couture (The Passport Series Book 2) by Celia Kennedy - Free Book Online
Authors: Celia Kennedy
Ads: Link
gazes simultaneously flit to the musclebound
men’s crotches. Tiziana came to her conclusion first. “I would think silly.
Small. They don’t get bigger just because the man is more muscular.” She waved
her hand around. “Anyway, they are Ted’s security. Besides, NoNecks are
everywhere.”
Ted was so low-key that, at times, I forgot that he needed
bodyguards. He was in between jobs, having stepped down from his software
company after making more money than God. I surveyed the room and found darkly
dressed, cropped-haired, muscly men—who looked freakishly identical—scattered
about the room. Apparently, he was in good company.
Seeing my friends were happily distracted, I decided to make
my exit. “Gotta run. I’ll see you soon.”
As I walked away, a certain Frenchman strode alongside me.
My heartbeat went a little wonky when he admitted, “Mademoiselle, I’m happy to
see you. Last week, I was in New York, and I must confess that I thought of you
often. Perhaps we’ll have a chance to spend some time together this week.”
My knees went weak, and I developed a case of bobble head.
“That would be nice.”
***
At first, I thought there was a
glitch in the audio system. Turns out it was the music. It began with a skip
and a miss and proved to be a foreshadowing of Sharon Wauchob’s collection. She
was amongst my favorite designers, so I was truly disappointed when only one or
two pieces captured my attention.
In the end, we decided the most breathtaking moments proved
to be the result of shoe malfunctions. After the designer took her bow and the
music came to a stop, Marian made a sputtering sound before saying, “Jaysus, that
was awful. The collection, I mean. I thought the one girl was going to take a
fall.” Her shoe was unbuckled. “And what feck! Loo roll, stuck to someone’s
shoe. On the fecking runway?” She went on to mock every last decision the
designer had made. She was brutal.
I keeled over in laughter at her diatribe. Even Hillary, who
was usually the model of decorum, burst out laughing.
“Maybe we just don’t know enough about fashion,” I said as
we walked out. “On to the next!”
Chez Ehlers, Surprise!
After a long day of dashing to and
fro and transforming from consummate employee to longtime friend, I was
exhausted. Thankfully, I’d had the sense to hire my favorite caterer, whom I
called out to the second I walked through my front door. “ Bonjour , Aurélie! How
are things going?”
She quickly appeared, wiping her
hands on a towel. “Bonjour. Come and see.” S he led me into the kitchen. “All is prepared. I opened a few
bottles of wine. The white wine is in the refrigerator. The red is covered with
a towel, so dust doesn’t get inside the bottles.” She waved her hand in the
direction of the makeshift buffet and pointed out the beautifully presented
dishes of roasted vegetables drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with fresh
herbs. The scent of the rosemary chicken filled the apartment. “There is yogurt
and fresh fruit in the refrigerator for dessert.”
“Thank you!” I called as she
bustled back into the kitchen.
While she finished up, I changed
my clothes. I heard a gabfest in the hall and realized the girls must have
arrived while I dallied. I returned to the kitchen and saw that Aurélie had poured everyone a glass of wine. She passed me a glass
of red and reminded me, “I will be back
tomorrow morning around ten to pick up everything.”
“ Merci beaucoup .” By the
time I returned to the living room, everyone had kicked off their shoes and was
lounging on the couches.
“I love what you’ve done with the
place.” Marian pointed to the partially removed wallpaper.
“You like it? I’m thinking of
adding it to all the walls. I’m thinking, ‘Très Shabby Chic.’ Anyone hungry?”
The four of them raised their hands. “I’ll get Charlotte’s. The rest of you
fend for yourself.”
I handed Charlotte small portions
of everything.
men’s crotches. Tiziana came to her conclusion first. “I would think silly.
Small. They don’t get bigger just because the man is more muscular.” She waved
her hand around. “Anyway, they are Ted’s security. Besides, NoNecks are
everywhere.”
Ted was so low-key that, at times, I forgot that he needed
bodyguards. He was in between jobs, having stepped down from his software
company after making more money than God. I surveyed the room and found darkly
dressed, cropped-haired, muscly men—who looked freakishly identical—scattered
about the room. Apparently, he was in good company.
Seeing my friends were happily distracted, I decided to make
my exit. “Gotta run. I’ll see you soon.”
As I walked away, a certain Frenchman strode alongside me.
My heartbeat went a little wonky when he admitted, “Mademoiselle, I’m happy to
see you. Last week, I was in New York, and I must confess that I thought of you
often. Perhaps we’ll have a chance to spend some time together this week.”
My knees went weak, and I developed a case of bobble head.
“That would be nice.”
***
At first, I thought there was a
glitch in the audio system. Turns out it was the music. It began with a skip
and a miss and proved to be a foreshadowing of Sharon Wauchob’s collection. She
was amongst my favorite designers, so I was truly disappointed when only one or
two pieces captured my attention.
In the end, we decided the most breathtaking moments proved
to be the result of shoe malfunctions. After the designer took her bow and the
music came to a stop, Marian made a sputtering sound before saying, “Jaysus, that
was awful. The collection, I mean. I thought the one girl was going to take a
fall.” Her shoe was unbuckled. “And what feck! Loo roll, stuck to someone’s
shoe. On the fecking runway?” She went on to mock every last decision the
designer had made. She was brutal.
I keeled over in laughter at her diatribe. Even Hillary, who
was usually the model of decorum, burst out laughing.
“Maybe we just don’t know enough about fashion,” I said as
we walked out. “On to the next!”
Chez Ehlers, Surprise!
After a long day of dashing to and
fro and transforming from consummate employee to longtime friend, I was
exhausted. Thankfully, I’d had the sense to hire my favorite caterer, whom I
called out to the second I walked through my front door. “ Bonjour , Aurélie! How
are things going?”
She quickly appeared, wiping her
hands on a towel. “Bonjour. Come and see.” S he led me into the kitchen. “All is prepared. I opened a few
bottles of wine. The white wine is in the refrigerator. The red is covered with
a towel, so dust doesn’t get inside the bottles.” She waved her hand in the
direction of the makeshift buffet and pointed out the beautifully presented
dishes of roasted vegetables drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with fresh
herbs. The scent of the rosemary chicken filled the apartment. “There is yogurt
and fresh fruit in the refrigerator for dessert.”
“Thank you!” I called as she
bustled back into the kitchen.
While she finished up, I changed
my clothes. I heard a gabfest in the hall and realized the girls must have
arrived while I dallied. I returned to the kitchen and saw that Aurélie had poured everyone a glass of wine. She passed me a glass
of red and reminded me, “I will be back
tomorrow morning around ten to pick up everything.”
“ Merci beaucoup .” By the
time I returned to the living room, everyone had kicked off their shoes and was
lounging on the couches.
“I love what you’ve done with the
place.” Marian pointed to the partially removed wallpaper.
“You like it? I’m thinking of
adding it to all the walls. I’m thinking, ‘Très Shabby Chic.’ Anyone hungry?”
The four of them raised their hands. “I’ll get Charlotte’s. The rest of you
fend for yourself.”
I handed Charlotte small portions
of everything.
Similar Books
