Astoria wasn't what it seemed; the company was one of the most exhausting Gregory had ever worked in, and the French were the most talkative people. They appeared to adore meetings where they would beat around the bush for hours.
The man was happy to see the day over and go home, hoping to find peace.
"Good evening," Gregory said.
"Good evening."
Gregory stood in the lift with a young woman who held the hand of a little girl who didn't take her gaze off Gregory.
"Bonjour, toi," Gregory said to the little girl who hugged the young woman's leg. To his surprise, they got off on his floor.
Xenia's family, Gregory's curiosity piqued. It wasn't his habit to spy on people, but Xenia had this effect on him. He found himself doing things he wouldn't usually. Gregory hurried to be sure to witness what happened when the door opened.
"Maman," yelled the little girl as Xenia and hugged her legs furiously.
Gregory wondered if he heard right.
The young woman who brought the child was about to speak when Xenia noticed Gregory. She took the little girl in her arms and pulled in the young woman before slamming the door.
What is this crazy woman up to now? Gregory wondered.
"Are you crazy," Louise yelled behind the closed door.
"I'm sorry, it's just he was there."
"Who? You mean the guy with the sexy British accent?" Louise said. Her eyes sparkled in a way her older sister didn't like.
"Don't say that. He's my neighbor and colleague."
"He's good-looking. How old do you think he is?"
"Don't even think about it," Xenia warned as she carried Sia to the living room.
Louise was eight years younger than Xenia, a medicine student; Louise also did some pocket money modeling.
The young woman was the kind of girl who broke necks, caramel skin, amber eyes, long curly hair, and the body of a victoria's secret model. Xenia's sister was the full package.
The girl didn't care about her appearance; ripped jeans, vintage clothes were what she went by; their mother said Louise's birth was an accident. Louise was the hostage child, the one Catherine had thinking she'd hold Louise's father with her newborn. It didn't work.
"Why don't you want to see him?"
Louise was perplexed; the man seemed sexy, and the accent had its effect.
"Let's say we don't get along."
"What a shame, I thought I could have his number," the young woman threw herself on Xenia's couch.
"Does mom know how kinky you've become?"
"Oh, don't tell, please, Xe. Anyway, Mom said she wouldn't be able to keep Sia for the rest of the week. She is going to see aunty Marlene; she is in hospital."
"Again," Xenia exclaimed.
"I know, aunt Marlene is a walking casualty. I don't even know why they let her out, she should just live in a hospital, and I can only babysit on Mondays, Tuesdays, and if I say if there's a death threatening emergency."
"Okay, thank you."
Xenia didn't protest; her mother and sister were kind enough to care for Sia when she couldn't. She was grateful and never complained.
"By the way, Xe, when are we going to spend time together?"
The three sisters were close, even if they were very different.
"I don't know, you guys tell me in advance, I've gotー."
"I hear you a lot of work," Louise finished, "it's like the only record you play!"
"I'm sorry. I'll try and find the time."
Xenia neglected many things; she managed to only concentrate on two work and Sia.
"Sia, don't strangle Oasis."
The little girl loved her cat and was convinced she was gentle when she head locked Oasis in her arms and stroked it as if she was ironing a creased linen shirt.
"Seriously, Xe, your neighbor is quite a catch. If you're not going to get him, then get me his number."
"No, mom would kill me if I hooked you up with an older man, and I told you we do not get along."
Louise jumped up from the couch and stretched.
"Okay, Xenia, I'll be leaving, bye-bye, Sia, aunty is leaving," Louise said, waving at her niece.
"Bye, aunty."
As soon as Louise was gone, Xenia went and sat next, Sia.
"Was it good with grandma?"
Sia nodded.
"Why do you look sad? Sadness is a bad sickness, mommy has to heal you, but you have to tell mommy where it hurts?
"Mommy."
"Yes."
"Why doesn't Dad live with us?"
"Why do you ask, did someone say something to you?"
"Grandma told aunt Gloria to stop arguing, uncle James. Otherwise, he'll run away like dad."
"Your dad didn't run away, Sia."
Even if Mark did, Xenia found it inappropriate to say.
"Then, why?"
Xenia looked about, searching for a valid answer, when her eyes stopped on the kitchen. The elements they had for breakfast was still in place; the answer was there. She turned back to face Sia.
"Sia, your dad, likes Oatmeal, but I don't have the oatmeal he likes."
"But you can buy it and make it," the little girl replied naively.
"I can't, Sia; mom can't buy or make Oatmeal the way your dad likes, but Sophia can. That's why dad is with her."
"It's too bad," the little girl sulked.
Xenia didn't know what to say but hope her explanation was enough for now.
"But, you know what's important, Sia."
The girl shook her head.
"Mom loves you more than anything, and I'm sure your dad loves you too. It's all that matters, Sia. Even if we don't live together, we both love you. Now shake off that sadness you hear me," Xenia said, tickling Sia, who laughed.