IV

As she drove home, Frédérique reflected on what had just happened. She was, to say the least, surprised. Far from being a self-centered egomaniac – the rock star cliché in her mind -, Richie had turned out to be quite an easy-going, charming and down to earth man. Not to mention gorgeous and impossibly attractive. But that shouldn’t be a problem, as long as she kept to her professionalism; she would be able to handle it. She had done it before.

When she arrived home her only thought was to get out of her soaking wet clothes, have a steamy hot shower and sip from a cup of coffee as she wrote down all the ideas he had thrown at her as well as her own, that had come up during the conversation. She laughed when she took off her jeans and examined the knees. The rain had washed off the green stains, but she could now see that the fabric was ragged. Frédérique, you do know how to ruin your clothes, don’t you, she mumbled as a self-reprimand, remembering all the shirts and sweaters and even shoes she had ruined for being such a clumsy human being. She threw the jeans into the garbage.

As Frédérique typed, she could feel Richie’s voice in her head - deep, soft and honeyed. Her mind still wouldn’t accept that Richie her client was the same Richie the guitar player of an internationally successful rock band. She went back to her CD collection and pulled out the “These Days” CD one of her American friends had given her as a birthday present, she had listened to it a couple times before it got lost among the other CDs in her extended collection. She listened, without paying much attention to it as she worked. She couldn’t, however, ignore “(It’s hard) Letting you go”, the emotions expressed in the music and the lyrics made her start to reflect. She sat back against the couch and started to think.

Her own life was her baby, she had worked hard to fulfill all her dreams and it hadn’t been an easy road. First she became an architect against her father’s wishes of inheriting the Hotel and Vineyard he had built from scratch just outside Bordeaux. Then recovering after one and then another relationship that had left her in such a state of wreck that she doubted she would ever be capable of having a normal one. Finally, settling down in New York as she had always dreamt of, doing what she loved the most: creating.

She didn’t find it hard to let people go anymore. Leaving her hometown first, then Paris, then Lugano (not to mention the 6 months she spent traveling in Europe and the 2 semesters of the Set Design course she took in Florence), had made her realize that she remained the same no matter who surrounded her or what environment she was in. Everything around her was constantly changing and that was the rule, not the exception. The only thing she had to hold on to was herself, her career and the music she loved.

Regarding her love life, however, she came to admit that she related completely to the song, remembered why she had come to the conclusion that alone meant safe. She knew the drill: she met someone, she thought he was the one, then things got serious, then she told them, then they ran away. Some left her more graciously than others, some took more time and some left right away. She had seen the movie and she was tired - and bored - of it.

Yes, everything was just perfect the way it was right now, she had achieved peace. She wouldn’t change a thing. Holding on to that thought, she dozed off.

----------------

The next day, first thing in the morning she gathered her design team for a meeting. She had prepared a presentation where she showed pictures of the surroundings, examples of what she had interpreted were her client’s ideas and had added some inspirational pictures that showed which way the project would be heading. After a round of questions and organizing the deadlines for the project, she went back to her office: she had a call to make.

Speaking to her clients was never a problem for her, but she felt a kind of anticipation this time. Pull it together – she commanded herself. The phone rang 5 times, at last she heard his voice

“Hi there...”

“Hello Ri---“ She was puzzled as the voice interrupted her.

“...this is Richie, leave a message and I’ll call ya back” the voice continued. She felt stupid, but waited for the tone.

“Hello, Rich..ard? – she didn’t like using short names for her clients, it sounded so…unprofessional - . It’s Frédérique from Cohen & Cook?. I’m calling to tell you that we’ll be ready to show you the preliminary ideas for your approval next Tuesday so please contact us to arrange a meeting. Thank you”. And she hung up - if there was something that upset her more than the phone ringing, it was having to leave a message. Ugh.

She hung up and went through her tasks for the day. After more than an hour she felt her stomach rumble and looked at the time in her computer: it was way past her lunchtime, time to go downstairs to grab a bite. As she was walking towards the lobby, she saw Karen – the receptionist -, first look and then point at her, apparently telling someone to wait. Karen was giggling and called for her excitedly with her hand, but Frédérique still couldn’t make out who it was - whoever was standing on the other side was covered by the shield behind the reception desk. She was amused by the receptionist's excitement, Karen rarely lost her composure.

As she turned the corner, she saw Richie standing there in the lobby. That's why and…what are you doing here? He looked glorious in dark blue jeans that showed off his trim, long legs; a simple blue sweater and a dark brown jacket. The dimples formed in his cheeks gave him a boyish look that easily erased 15 years from his face.

“Hello, Richard”, she said breezily, offering her hand for a handshake. However, he grabbed her shoulders with both his hands and pulled her to him to kiss first one, then the other cheek.

Frédérique graciously recovered from the surprise soon enough to return the second kiss.

“Fred! I’m glad you’re still in one piece, darlin’”, he joked.

Not for long if you keep THAT up. She blushed and shook her head, frowning, a questioning look on her face: “Yes but…didn’t you get my message?”

“Yes, I did, and that’s exactly why I’m here, I had to come to the city to run some errands and I was in the area so I figured I could do it personally”. Liar. Richie could go from Philadelphia to New Jersey without having to drive through Manhattan - he had arranged to spend the afternoon at Sanctuary re-recording the solo for one of the songs of the new album. Apparently the fans had complained that the single’s guitar solo was too bland, but who could blame them? They weren’t far from the truth anyway: he just wasn’t that into it that day – or maybe a couple of other days. So what.

“Sure”, she said, “what time would be suitable for you?”

“Say…- Richie tried to buy some time before he put his mind back on track - …two-ish?”.

“Sure! That’s fine by me”, Frédérique said, turning to a wide-eyed Karen.

“Karen, we need to arrange a meeting for Mr. Sambora on Tuesday, at two o’clock?. Could you please let the design team now? Thank you, Karen” She turned to the door and looked back at Karen: “Oh and don’t forget to remind me first thing in the morning, OK?”. The blonde woman gave her a thumbs up and started working on the digital agenda.

“Done”, she said to Richie while she finished putting on her jacket. She had let her hair down, and it cascaded in slight waves over each of her shoulders then over her breasts down to the end of her ribs. She took her hair out from under the jacket and rearranged it over the lapels.

“Great”, he said, enjoying the cloud of coconuty smell Frédérique’s hair had just produced. They both headed for the door and he opened it for her,  then closed it again on his back.

They stood in the hall while the elevator came up. She saw him hesitate a little.

“Were you by any chance on your way to lunch?”, he finally asked, his hands casually in his back pockets.

“I was, indeed – the elevator door opens and they get in - I usually go to this place a couple of blocks from here. It’s very…quiet” – she said, considering that he may have an issue with eating out in the public eye. “If you’re hungry too, feel free to join me”, in these borderline situations, it was better to take the lead. Having lunch with clients was still this side of the line.

“Now that sounds like a plan”, Richie replied solemnly as the elevator door opened and he extended his arm motioning Frédérique to get out of the elevator. He flashed her a smile: “I’m right behind ya”.