Tequila Nights (15 page)

CHAPTER
29

“Ma’am,” the attendant’s stern voice was enough to get my heart pounding. “You’re late and are the final passenger to check in.”

“I know,” I stammered, flustered because Leo was parking the car still, and I was expected to make my way down through customs where he couldn’t follow. “The rain caused some delay on the highway.”

She eyed me with a mix of indifference and annoyance. Her heavy blue eyeshadow was uneven and I had trouble focusing.

Where was Leo?

“You only have five minutes left to complete check in bypassing security. I suggest you make your way down there now.”

“I understand.” Nerves were wracking me. I couldn’t just leave. “I’m just waiting to say goodbye—”

“Say goodbye or make your flight. Your choice.” There it was again, the indifference. I shouldn’t have expected her to care. It wasn’t her life about to change. Besides, what was the rush? Once passing security, I’d have to wait another hour anyway.

Collecting my passport off the counter I backed away, her arched eyebrow and pursed lips full of judgment.

Heading back to the front of the airport I saw fresh waves of cars pull into the loading zone where Leo had dropped me off before leaving to find a park. He was nowhere in sight.

“Come on, come on, come on,” I begged, hoping his face would instantly appear.

“Ms. Josie Marks, please proceed through to security,” the voice-over sounded.

Shit!

Dialing Leo’s number it went straight through to voicemail. Hanging up without leaving a message, I paced the length of the entry knowing my window of opportunity was coming to a close.

“Paging passenger flying Qantas945 to Paris, Ms. Josie Marks. You are required through security immediately.”

“Josie!” Leo’s voice caused my heart to leap with joy. Turning, I saw him running the length of the airport having entered at the lower end door. Taking off in a sprint, I met him halfway, his arms wrapping themselves tight around me. Our hearts were beating at a rampant pace in sync with each other.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t park for miles away.”

“They’re calling my name.”

“I heard. Come on.” Taking my hand, we fast walked it to the elevator that would take me down a floor to security. “Josie,” he whispered cupping my cheeks. That sadness I’d witnessed on the beach earlier was still there. His deep brown irises now black, tanned skin damp from the rain. “This has been the sweetest ride of all.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” Squeezing my eyes closed, I pushed out a wave of tears. “Leo…I don’t want to go anymore.” I choked. “I just wanna be with you.”

“Bella,” his eyes glistened. “It won’t be for long, I promise.” His thumb gently wiped a stream of tears.

“It’s too long. I don’t want to be without you.”

“You need to do this. Remember why you’re there. To paint the world beautiful again.” Remembering the loss I felt when losing my mother after she spoke those words, and now the pain of losing Leo…it was all too much.

“Final call for passenger Josie Marks. Please make your way down to security.”

“You have to go.”

Biting my bottom lip to stop the tremble, I nodded.

“Goodbye, my beautiful Josie.” Leo leaned forward, gently kissing my forehead, nose, and both cheeks before twice tenderly on the lips. Taking a step back, his hands fell away from me for the last time, his face failing to disguise his own heartache.

Four words and I was broken.

Six kisses and Leo whispered his goodbye.

***

Numb.
I couldn’t feel a thing and I didn’t know if that was good or bad.

I was sitting on the plane having little time to spare after progressing through the security and customs check. I didn’t turn and look up at the viewing platform when I walked to the terminal. I couldn’t bring myself to see Leo’s face again.

Instead, as the plane’s engine roared to life and frosty air filtered above the luggage compartment, I sat in my tiny chair,
numb.

I wasn’t immune to the curious stares of fellow passengers as I made my way down the aisle to my seat. My blotchy face and seemingly endless spring of tears resulted in unwanted attention.

I barely heard the pilot welcoming passengers on board and I lacked the focus to listen to emergency procedures the stewards were performing.

I was trapped in the middle between a man with a girth so wide it was encroaching on my space and a woman who was chewing loudly on her gum, unaware of others surrounding her. Unable to have my music playing, I endured the sounds of saliva churning through her mouth, my deep breathing doing little to quell the irritation.

Despite travel time being just over twenty-four hours with a stopover, all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry.

“Traveling alone?” The hefty man next to me smiled in greeting. He took one look at my face and his smile faltered.

Was I traveling alone? Was it not obvious?

“Yes,” I replied deadpan.

“Me too.”

Awesome.

Inhaling sharply, I closed my eyes ignoring the man who was just trying to be nice. I was aware I was coming across as a bitch, but in all honesty I just didn’t care. If I could wear a sign saying
‘Fragile. Handle with care,’
I would.

Within moments, my body was thrown back against the chair as the plane catapulted down the runway at top speed.

This was it. This was actually happening. I was leaving my home, my love, my life.

By the time the plane angled straight, the stewardess had taken to the aisles with her drink cart. Purchasing two mini bottles of wine, which only equated to two glasses, I plugged in my headphones and closed my eyes listening to the rhythmic beats of my favorite salsa and Bachata music.

Without even opening my eyes, I sipped from my stout plastic wine glass, memories of a glorious three months dancing before me.

CHAPTER
30

With no regard for road safety, my cab driver whizzed in and out of Paris traffic like he was a formula one driver. If I had been half asleep when trudging my way through the Charles De Gaulle Airport with two heavy suitcases, I was certainly awake now. It was late, at least two in the morning French time, and I was in desperate need of a shower. Despite seeing my life flash before my eyes on several occasions, I wound my window down and enjoyed the city’s night lights that passed by at a furious speed. The wind was blowing my long hair but was refreshing after spending so long within the confines of a plane.

I was in awe of Paris and what I had seen so far. Obviously, it wasn’t much but I could definitely think of worse places to spend the next two years of my life. My heart sank, still sore after farewelling Leo.

A single tear fell down my cheek. I couldn’t imagine a day when it wouldn’t hurt.

I couldn’t imagine a day would go by without questioning my decision.

***

An equally tired face met mine shortly after knocking on the door to my apartment. My new roommate greeted me with a weak smile, her pajamas skewed and hair a crazy mess.

“Come in,” she said with an American accent. Taking hold of one of my suitcases she wheeled it through the door as I followed.

Small didn’t begin to describe my new lodgings. It was only a quarter the size of the place I shared with Nicole. A small window at the rear end of the room was the only connection to the outside world, two offshoot bedrooms to the left.

“I’m Cassie.” My roommate gave a small wave.

“Josie,” I replied, a little nervous about just making myself at home.

“Best you unpack in the morning,” she suggested. “Your room is there.” She pointed to the one left of hers.

“Good idea and thank you. I’m smashed.”

“I flew in yesterday and am still playing catch up. I can imagine it’s worse for you. Goodnight.” Cassie gave a tired smile and disappeared into her bedroom closing the door behind her.

Left standing alone in a foreign apartment, I did a quick study of my surroundings. The place was neat and tidy but not yet lived in. The furniture was minimal with comfort not in mind, but I figured we wouldn’t have much time to lounge around with our timetable.

Wheeling my cases in my room, I saw that it was much the same as the communal areas. Minimal and lacking comfort. Retrieving my shower bag, I made for the shower. Stripping off my clothes I let the stream of hot water rinse the last twenty-four hours of filth off me. The feeling was short-lived as the water soon lost its heat and turned ice cold.

Barely dry, I collapsed on the unfamiliar bed, phone in hand. Switching it on, the screen lit up the dark room. Only seconds later it vibrated, a name of someone special displayed.

Leo:
I miss you already, Bella. Settle in and call me when you can. Love you.

As a rock formed in my throat and my tired eyes burned from salty tears, I let Leo’s words cradle me to sleep. My heart breaking in the dark of night in a foreign country.

***

“Morning, sunshine,” Cassie greeted, an entirely different person from last night. She was bright and bubbly, whereas I felt and looked worse.

“Morning,” I mumbled, accepting the bowl of cereal she handed me.

“We can go in together today for our orientation.”

“Okay.”

“They expect us to start class in two days, so best you spend time organising yourself and getting some rest. You look like crap.”

“I feel it, I can promise you.”

She studied me for a second, pausing mid-chew, eyes narrowed. She reminded me so much of Nicole.

“You left a man behind, didn’t you?”

She didn’t mean for it to, but her words stung. Not only was I emotional, but I woke feeling extra hormonal which in my current state was so not welcomed.

Feeling like my mouthful of cereal lodged itself in my throat, I coughed gently hoping I wouldn’t spray chewed food particles everywhere.

“Yes, I did.”

Nodding in empathy, she patted my hand. “Best you make the most of building a life here so that you forget your old one. Don’t let your past affect the chance you have been given.”

She was right and I felt like an asshole for it. I’d been so caught up in myself that I had taken this opportunity for granted.

“Come on, we have five minutes to finish up and get out of here.”

***

I desperately wanted some time to call Leo, but already I was under time pressure having woken late and jetlagged. The city during the day looked vastly different to what it did at night. As the bus took us from our street to Lafayette, I saw the grandeur of the old buildings and it was simply breathtaking.

Despite only being in the country a day before me, Cassie seemed more than confident with her surroundings and instead of being a foreigner, she was more like a local.

“Let’s go,” she said, swinging her bag over her shoulder as the bus pulled to a stop. Following her out, we came to a standstill outside the grand building. It was late architecturally inspired with gargoyles positioned around the roof. It was typically French and I loved it.

“Here we go,” Cassie said, taking a deep breath.

Despite the exterior dating back centuries, a sliding glass door welcomed us flushing our frozen faces with a blast of hot air. It felt like heaven in what was a stark comparison to the summer I’d just left.

Taking to the wide stairs, we trudged our way up to the second floor and were greeted by a super thin, chic receptionist.

“Are you students?” she asked in a heavily accented voice. We both nodded. “Passports,
merci
.”

Presenting our documentation we waited for the lady to finish processing each of us.

“Here,” she said, handing back our passports. “You are last to arrive. Make your way quickly down the hall where the orientation is being held.”

Hot footing it in the direction she pointed, we traveled down a long hallway that was a deep forest green with Renaissance-style artwork adorning the walls. Feeling my heart rate spike, my palms sweaty, I realised I was actually nervous.

Without knocking, Cassie turned a sharp right through the end door and I had little option but to follow. Ten sets of eyes fell on us, unimpressed that on the first day we were already late. The group of students sat in a circle on high stools used for painting at easels, and a man who looked to be in his late thirties was positioned between them.

“
Bonjour Mademoiselles
.” His face was expressionless, eyes drilling holes into us both.

With a small smile and nod, I greeted him, taking a seat at one of the free stools.

“Where are you from?” I heard him ask while I dug through my handbag for a notepad and pen. When no one responded, I looked up.

“Me?” I asked, meeting his eyes.

“Where…are…you…from?” he asked again, this time pausing between words.

“Australia.”

His lips pouted as if he was lost in thought. “Tell me. In Australia, is it normal to not verbally respond to a greeting?”

“I’m sorry?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, he looked at me exasperated. “
Mademoiselle
, if you insist on making me repeat my questions to you so frequently, then we may run into a problem.”

Swallowing hard, I nodded, feeling my cheeks heat from embarrassment. I hadn’t intended to be rude. It was merely an attempt to cause as little disruption as possible.

Throwing a hardened glance around the group, he looked as if we were an inconvenience to his life. “Let us continue. As a student of Lafayette, you are required to commit to select hours of production. If you live and breathe studio time, you are still not doing enough. You must have ready in your folio all preliminary drawings of your work before you put paint to canvas. The next step is to seek my approval. Every six months we hold an exhibition. All your work must be up to standard and if it’s not, consider yourself on the next flight home. I have expectations. Our commissioners have expectations and most of all, you should have high expectations of yourself. Limit your social time, and do not allow romanticism to go to your heads. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

In unison we all agreed, being careful to actually verbalise our acknowledgment.

After handing out our timetables which consisted of many long hours we all stood to leave, a tour next on the agenda.

“I don’t know if you’re a master artist in the making, but you certainly are a master at first impressions,” Cassie whispered as we squeezed through the door at the same time.

“I was trying to be quiet. You know, trying to remain less of a disturbance since we were late.”

“Well, let’s just assume that Monsieur Bordeaux is old fashioned.”

“I guess so.” I hated the fact I had made such a poor first impression, especially since this was my home for the next two years. The next hour passed quickly as we navigated the second floor of the studios. One side of the building was for sculpture, the middle for drawing, and the end for painting. Every department had a spectacular view of the River Seine and I just knew it would play a heavy influence for many of us. Entering the painting studios, I wandered the aisle until I came across the easel with my name. My designated space was a lot larger than the one at home, and I was almost fully closed in which allowed more hanging space for works in progress.

We weren’t expected to start at Lafayette for two days. That would allow us enough time to go back in and set up in preparation. I had a sneaky suspicion we would all be watched like hawks, and I was keen to change the lousy first impression everyone in the group had of me.

“Great isn’t it?” Cassie walked in looking mighty pleased with her new artist in residence location.

“It is beautiful here.”

“How about we go out tonight and celebrate and you know, get to know each other.”

Despite the overwhelming urge to cry myself to sleep, I agreed.