“Anyway. The only one I like to spend time with lives in South Africa. She travels a lot, too; we see each other from time to time,” continues Sophia. “I no longer have personal assistants; an au pair seemed like a nicer opportunity to have someone more at home. However, if you want to back down, I won’t insist, Océane. But the confidentiality still applies.”
We mustn’t let it be known that the wife of the great Sexton is so bored that she has to hire an extra on her property, right? I don’t intend to tell anyone about it anyway. I feel rather sorry for her.
“And your husband, in this deal? I mean, about me barging into your house and all?”
“Tiger appreciates things that are well framed. That’s why I formalized all this. Don’t worry about that. Moreover, he is not often with us.”
Basically, a control freak, absent most of the time? No, let’s not jump to hasty conclusions.
To think that many women in this country must envy the one who has put the ring on the finger of one of the best parties in Australia without suspecting the kind of existence she actually leads. It sounds complicated… My emotional side will lose me as I sympathize, although I know little about the couple and their life. I breathe in and smile at Sophia.
“Say yes, Océane. It worked out pretty well between us, didn’t it?”
“I… Okay, I’ll scribble a goodbye note to my roommates and get my things. I’ll give it a try,” I answer on impulse. “Me too; I need to change my mind.”
This one won’t hurt, as we say. For the first time in a long time, I would like to follow my feeling and take things as they come. A fresh start with a bit of daring!
“Marvellous! Thank you very much, Océane. I’ll be waiting for you here.”
***
In the meantime, the courier arrives with my contract change. Barely twenty minutes later, the Bentley is driving with the two of us seated in the back. I fiddle with my Instax around my neck.
I can no longer compartmentalize Sophia Sexton in the “refined woman on a pedestal of beauty and success” box. Of course, she reflects all of this in a general way. On the other hand, at this precise moment, I see a more human facet…
Obviously, my friendship isn’t for sale, but now that I understand why, I’m willing to stay with her and enjoy the moment. Even if my nervousness about meeting her husband intensifies.
We’ll see. Maybe he’s not so intimidating in real life?
“Shopping?” suggests Mrs. Sexton, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Admit right away that I don’t look good,” I say playfully to lighten the mood.
Her features light up.
“No, I really like your style, but a woman never has too many clothes,” she laughs. “It’s Saturday, and I don’t have any appointments today; let’s make the most of it.”
“Uh… if you like, but I can’t afford a piece of fabric in the kind of stores you must go.”
“Admit right away that I’m a snob,” she replies.
Her eyes sparkle as if she were rediscovering the simple pleasure of chatting, of being teased. I take a falsely serious air to reply, “Oh, no, Mrs. Sexton. I would never dare to call you a snob; I don’t want to get fired on the first day.”
She starts to laugh, and it becomes communicative.
“You see, that’s what I liked when I met you. You’re natural and frank. Can we move on to familiarity now? Please call me Sophia.”
“Okay… Sophia.”
We end up in a private CBD lounge in an increasingly good-natured atmosphere. The Central Business District of Sydney is the center of the city for the big fortunes. I have often heard about it. We enter a showroom with velvet boudoirs, cups of je-ne-sais-quoi, macaroons, and saleswomen entirely devoted to us. Well, only to Sophia.
“Mrs. Sexton! What a pleasure to see you again. You are looking as gorgeous as ever. How are you?” welcomes us a lady of a certain age with a bohemian chic look.
I look transparent by comparison.
“I’m very well, Solange, thank you. I present to you Océane. Océane, Solange is my personal shopper. She has an eye for finding strong, unique pieces wherever they are,” Sophia explains.
I don’t doubt it, especially if there are no price restrictions. The professional lick’s boot is now interested in me. Too bad for her, as my casual look indicates, I have neither the habit nor the means.
“Nice to meet you, Miss. Tell me what styles and designers you like, and we’ll take care of the rest,” promises the personal shopper.
All eyes turn to me. Uncomfortable, I waddle and opt for derision.
“I’m a big fan of Mister Sales and Miss Promo,” I say. “Don’t worry about me; I think it’s Sophia who would like to see some clothes.”
This one is laughing. The lady, confused, ends up smiling in turn.
“We will choose together, Solange. It would be necessary to have evening clothes, accessories, swimsuits, and why not two, three day outfits in phase with the trendy style of Océane,” says Sophia.
The saleswoman bows again and happily obeys. She disappears very quickly to go in search of the items requested by her wealthy client. I turn to Sophia.
“You don’t have to buy me clothes. With my salary, I will be able to—”
“Don’t tell me no already, Océane. You’ve been very reasonable—too reasonable—about the amount of your pay. Given the little luggage you have brought, you’ll need a bigger and better wardrobe for future occasions.”
“Yes, but—”
“Tut-tut-tut! These are benefits in kind included in your job,” she whispers in my ear. “And that makes me really happy,” she decides, grabbing two cups from a tray to offer me one.
“Okay, presented like this… I just have to toast with this orange juice served in a glass of champagne to make it more classy,” I tease, capitulating.
“Actually, it’s a mimosa. I thought you would know, this cocktail was invented in France. Go ahead, taste it!”
“Oops, I look a little uneducated now?” I laugh at myself before soaking my lips in it.
“Not at all. I’m sure you have a lot to teach me, too,” says Sophia.
“Maybe…”
It might be fun to take her out of her posh environment for a bit. Making her laugh also erases the gloom that often plagues my thoughts. Each one distracts the other. This idea draws a knowing smile from me. Then I take a sip of the mixture. The flavor of freshly squeezed oranges is indeed enhanced by that of sparkling alcoholic bubbles.