Lessons In Being A Flapper (8 page)

“God, he sounds as delicious as a piece of cotton candy! He actually sounds just like a guy that works with us. He’s out of the country now, too, but wait until you meet him! When you see him you’re man will pale in comparison! I actually think he’s going to be working under you…so lucky you, boss lady!” Jeanette said, laughing at my luck.

“But I wouldn’t make a move on him. Word is that Sophia has her talons in him already. Not sure if the feeling is reciprocated or not, but let me tell you, you don’t want to mess with anything that woman even
thinks
is hers.” Good to know. Plus, I had Bayani so I needn’t worry anyway. A handsome face around the office was one thing, but I wasn’t looking for anything more.

T
he next hour was filled with champagne flutes, head massages and a divine pedicure and manicure session. There was no way I was leaving this building feeling less than a thousand percent rejuvenated – if not a little tipsy too.

“You look stunning! Freaking incredible and stunning!” Jeanette said while playing with my newly chopped and colored bob. I had to admit, I agreed. This look suited me and made me feel like one
of the great dames of the 1920s. Totally retro. Marisol was going to have a field day when she saw me! Bella really was a magician and deserved every penny of the $1,100 she charged for my new cut and overall transformation. I was beyond lucky that she wasn’t charging me and instead charging the company card. Maybe my luck was finally turning.

The rest of the week came and went before I even knew it. I wa
s learning so much at work and having secret chats with Jeanette and Lena about the hottest guys in the office when we could grab a second – usually near the coffee machine or in my office with the door slightly ajar. Apparently everyone was obsessed with the mysterious man that I would be bossing around. I couldn’t wait to meet him when he returned though I was a little nervous being the boss of someone so handsome. How could I tell him what to do? He’d just have to flutter his eyelashes at me and I’d be putty in his hands.

U
nfortunately, I wouldn’t be able to meet this man or any of my team until after Thanksgiving since the office was closed all next week for the festive holiday. As much as I loved having time off (and being paid for it) I did have to research some ideas to show to Sophie upon my return.

I decided to spend some time walking around San Francisco and looking in the trendy boutiques to see what was in style now. Maybe I could draw some inspiration from what I found.
Since I liked her company so much and she was very able to get out and about, I invited Marisol along on my quest, leaving Clara in the hands of Jeanette – she loved dogs and said she would be more than thrilled to watch Clara for the afternoon. I thought that a few hours with my rambunctious puppy (who had taken to chewing my designer shoes – don’t tell Marisol!) would change her mind, but I let her take her anyway with a promise that if anything at all went wrong, she’d call me.

Marisol hadn’t seen my hair yet but she seemed pleased with the look when she emerged from her house in a Black petticoat with red
rose-shaped buttons. She looked uber chic considering she was 99 freaking years old. I only wished I could be like her when I was older. She was so vivacious and lively.

“Darling, don’t you look glamorous! I’m loving the hair!” she expressed as she led me to the car waiting in her driveway.

“Marisol, I thought we were walking…the shops aren’t far from here at all, maybe five minutes by cable car.”

“No, dear, Bernard will take us. Who knows, we might want to stray farther than you think and it’s always good to have a car around in case we get tired.”
I followed her into the car and we were off for our first destination: Ghirardelli Square, which was less than ten minutes from my home. We would also be stopping by Fisherman’s Wharf and my personal favorite, Fillmore Street, which was known to have up-and-coming trends along with great eateries. It was fast becoming one of the best shopping districts in the country; rivaling New York’s Fifth Avenue and Boston’s Newbury Street. I couldn’t wait to see what it had in store for me.

“I think you’ll find this area to be
Hotsy-Totsy. If you can’t find anything here, Chickadee, you won’t find it anywhere,” Marisol explained as we got out of the car at our first location. We were heading for Helpers Bazaar, a quaint little shop full of vintage treasures. There were cute little hats on stands and antique brooches like the one I got from Bayani. There were also knit sweaters and Little Black Dresses for nights spent gallivanting this amazing city. It was a shoppers dream but sadly, it didn’t show me any new or upcoming trends. I would have to come back here on my own, though, and buy a few items for my wardrobe. I just couldn’t resist!

We stopped in a few other shops before we hit Jackson and Polk, which was said to offer modern products with an “appreciation of the past” – that sounded good to me!
However, to my dismay, the store offered things that weren’t quite going to fit into the pages of
Fashion and Flare
. They seemed to have a more natural approach to things so even though they had beautiful items, they weren’t what I was looking for either. After a few more hours of fluffing around and seeing many things I wanted to buy for myself, I figured I’d best try looking online for trends as there were just too many little trinkets to be distracted by in these shops.  God knows I have a weakness for trinkets!

With three leaden shopping bags full of stuff, Marisol and I made our way over to Lori’s Diner. This was one of the most iconic diners in San Fran and
brought flashbacks of the 1950s to the mind of those who ate there.

“Another great era,
my dear,” Marisol said. “The 50s much like the 20s were a fun time to live in. So much different than the 20s but just as much fun.” We each had a coffee malt and I ordered some French fries and a grilled cheese. I had a thing for the gooey cheese sandwiches it seemed! After eating and chatting some more, Marisol and I headed home. I picked up Clara at Jeanette’s – luckily she hadn’t destroyed anything except for a pair of fuzzy slippers – and decided to call it a night. San Francisco was so fun but I was completely bushed!

B
ayani returned the following day and came over straight away. I wasn’t expecting anyone and assuming it was just Esteban stopping in to tell me more about his Argentine horses or cattle, I decided to answer the door in my Hello Kitty pajamas. With feet.

Big mistake.

Bayani was on the other side of the door and looked at me in amusement.  I can only imagine how I looked with cartoon characters and cupcakes all over my body but thankfully, he didn’t comment on it.

“Did I wake you? I’m really sorry. I just wanted to see you since I never got an email from you…” he said, apologetically. “I suppose I should have called before just dropping in.”

“It’s fine and I’m so sorry for not e-mailing you. I meant to, but I’ve been so busy this past week.”

“I can tell. Nice hair, by the way. It suits you.”

I blushed at the thought of him analyzing my new haircut and my body encased in what looked like children’s pajamas.

“Thank you so so so much for the brooch! I wear it
every day! How did you know I would like it?” I asked, changing the subject.

“I don’t know. You just looked like the type of girl who would appreciate a good vintage piece,” he shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets while doing so.

“I actually came over here to see if you wanted to attend the tree lighting on Pier 39 with me tomorrow night. It’s at 6 o’clock and is usually a lot of fun…”

“Oh my God! Yes! I love Christmas so any excuse to watch a tree be strung with lights and lit is my cup of tea!” I almost jumped for joy.
Almost.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at 1:00 then and we can make a day of it,
” he said, giving me a lingering kiss on my cheek.

I couldn’t help but rub the spot where he kissed me. That’s when I knew I had it bad. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Bayani had
definitely gotten a hold of me and wasn’t planning to let me go.

Oddly enough, I liked the idea of that.

T
he following day I was up and ready by 10 o’clock, trying my hardest to figure out what one should wear to a tree lighting. I kept thinking this was our first proper date. The late night diner experience, while wonderful in its own right, wasn’t really a proper date. At least I didn’t think so.

But, this, this would be a proper date. I could feel it in my bones and it gave me chills. The thought of being around the most gorgeous and caring man in all of San Francisco made me
smile. I could already feel the butterflies in my stomach at the thought of seeing him in a few hours.

“What do I wear, Clara? What would you wear if you were going on a date with a gorgeous man?”
I asked my furry companion, forgetting that she couldn’t speak human and would probably pick out some mismatched outfit if she could. She was a teeny bit hyper active these days. God love her though. She deserved to be a little hyper after all she’d been through. She was a trooper.

I decided on a lovely white lace top paired with some skinny jeans and my favorite
Versace stilettos. I chose to bring my light pink pea coat with me too, just in case it got chilly later on. I put a dainty little headband with a bow on the side on and some pearl stringed necklaces but I still felt like there was something missing.

Of course!

My brooch. That beautiful piece of jewelry would definitely complete my look. I did a little twirl in the mirror loving the way I looked and happy to see myself smiling like a loon for the first time in as long as I could remember.

At one o’clock on the dot, Bayani pulled up in his black BMW. What was it with people out here? It seemed like everyone, no matter what they did for work, had one. You’d never see that back home. It was all Ford, Chevy and GM on our roa
ds. Nothing fancy, just useful. Either way, I wasn’t complaining. I loved Bayani’s BMW but would just as easily get into an SUV or hybrid.

“Hello, Gorgeous,” he said, opening the door for me like the chivalrous man that he was. I think I literally swooned. He was just so perfect.  What man actually opened a door for
you nowadays? Just yesterday, I had my hands laden down with papers and magazines for work and even though I was visibly struggling to open the door, not one man stopped to help me. Bayani was like a different species compared to those men.

“Well, hello to you too. You’re not looking to
o bad yourself,” I teased, as I slid into the passenger seat.

“I’m glad you brought a coat. It can get a little nippy down by the bay and I’ve got a surprise for you too, so you’ll
need that coat sooner than later.”

Surprise? Oh how I loved surprises…as long as they were good surprises. Don’t try to tell me you have a surprise for me and then tell me that you’ve decided to leave your wife for a man. That’s not a good surprise – or a good experience when it happens to your good friend who had just g
iven birth to her second child. Hopefully Bayani’s surprise would be a lot more fun than that. God, could anything be worse than that, now that I think of it? I doubt it!

“You know, Autumn, I’m so happy that we met. It was like fate wasn’t it? If you hadn’t been jaywalking and I hadn’t been distracted, we would have never crossed paths. I just
…well, I just think you’re wonderful. Kind, full of warmth and beautiful,” he said.  Was it me or did he seem a little shy at that very moment? Maybe he thought I wouldn’t accept his compliment well?

“Thanks, Bayani. I’m glad we met too,” I said before adding into the silence, “and
I think you’re wonderful, too.”

I couldn’t help smiling to myself as we drove towards Pier 39. I had never dreamed my life could be so complete. If you had asked me just a few weeks ago, p
re-Marisol, Sophie and Bayani what would have become of me, I would have never thought of anything that was happening to me now.

Thanksgiving was a time to be grateful, and boy, was I grateful for the wonderful people in my life who seemed to love me and care about me endlessly.

I
had lived in San Francisco for about seven months now (I stopped counting the days and hours once I found Marisol and stopped being a hermit) but I had yet to go to Pier 39. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I didn’t want to go. I just never had the time or the interest in going alone. OK, I did have the time, you’re right. I just didn’t want to walk along there and see the beautiful sights but have no one to share them with. So, as you can imagine, I was over the moon at going with Bayani and getting to see the annual Christmas tree lighting.

When we arrived at Pier 39, my lovely, gorgeous, sweet (maybe) boyfriend took my hand and said “C’mon, we’re going to be late!” as he ran with me in tow towards the Western part of the marina. We arrived at Gate H, slightly out of breathe but on time
, apparently.

Wow. So this was my surprise. Un-freaking-believable!

“Surprise!” Bayani said, stretching his arm out to show me the stunning ferry docked at the marina.