1.
I was awoken by an annoying sound which I soon registered as the ringtone on my phone. I pressed ‘Ignore’ and continued on in my dream which involved and Abercrombie model and some massage oil. Until I was disrupted by the annoying sound again, to which I finally answered.
“Hello?” I answered, my was throat was sore and dry.
“Everliegh dear, where are you?” the uppity tone which curled at the end of the question indicated my mother, and I could tell that she wasn’t impressed.
I rubbed my eyes and tried to focus to get my bearings “I stayed over at Noomi’s last night” it appeared that I was sleeping on Noomi’s coffee table, Noomi was on the couch and Ainslie was underneath it. No Saroya, which struck me as interesting, until I located the smell of vodka and truffle oil coming from Noomi’s kitchen.
“Well” my mother said, “Harrison and I are leaving for St. Barts in an hour and we would like you to be home before then, there just a few things to go over.”
“Yes mom, see you then” I said, snapping my phone shut. As much as I loved my mother, there was something that I couldn’t really stand about her; maybe it was the way she was so pushy.
I got up and managed to get off the coffee table without standing on Ainslie, on one side and all the coffee table trinkets on the other. I tip toed across the landing on the first level and found, Saroya casually flipping a frying pan of vodka-truffle oil cherry tomatoes, mushrooms, bacon, capsicums and Spanish onion. Saroya was the only person I knew who cooked with vodka more than she did olive oil. Most of us would say a waste of alcohol; she would say ‘it’s something a little bit different’.
“Morning” she said once she notice my presence in the doorway, “Omelette?” she offered, setting down the frying pan and picking up a metal bowl of egg and began whisking it.
“No,” I sad rubbing some sleep out of my eye “I have to get home, mum and Harrison are going to St. Barts and she needs to go over some stuff with me.”
“Do you thinks it’s stupid? You left home and now you back and it’s like you’re a stranger.”
“Tell me about it, but until you spend all of your trust fund and move back in with your mother and husband number four, fuck you” I started to giggle.
She knew I only meant half of what I said; she poured the egg mix into the frying pan and continued to make her omelette. I picked up a piece of cherry tomato from the chopping board and popped it into my mouth. It was rich and had a brief sour bite to it something that could only be sold for 13 bucks at the Dean & DeLuca down the street, I made a mental note to stop by there on the way home and treat my subtle hangover to a cappuccino. I blew her a kiss from the door and skipped down the stairs to ground floor, I slipped my heels back onto my tender feet before picking up my coat and ducking out the door. The first morning of the year was cold, and the wind instantly bit at my cheeks. I pulled my coat tight around me and flicked my collar up to protect my neck and ward myself against sickness. I rubbed my hands together before stuffing them in my pockets on my way up the street.
Mental note: Call Coco and tell about gloves before she claims them for herself.
I wound myself around the bodies that blocked the streets, as I turned onto Park Avenue. A quick duck into the warm and cluster store front of Dean & DeLuca, a wave to Mark behind the counted in gesture for him to make my special and the size of the line only made me think of how worth it, it would be. I pulled out my purse to get my money, and he held up his hand in a wave and said “Don’t worry about it, first day of year. It’s on me.”
I gave him a smile in return, to the one that he gave me as he handed over the decaf Cappuccino with a touch of cinnamon and lavender. I managed to step back into the flowing current of people making their way up and down Park this morning.
I made it back to my building in under 10 minutes-and that included my detour into Dean & Deluca. I was grateful that the lobby was well heated, and I shrugged out of my coat when I crossed the marble floor, me heels clicking obscenely, enough to itch a small portion of irritation that was fired by my hangover.
I waited while the elevator came down from the fifteenth floor, when the doors opened I was subject to view the porn-like activity going on inside. As I suspected, when I got a better view, the male was someone with who I would often encounter. Only today he was situated with a tall blond girl, yesterday, or for arguments sake last year, the woman had red hair. And the day before it was twins.
I gave as polite a cough as I could muster, before the couple finally broken apart and realised that their elevator had stopped and in fact had opened.
The girl blushed and straightened herself out, while the guy just leaned against the rail coolly, “Happy new year,” he said slyly, the girl turned back to face giving him a quick peck on the lips and whispering something into his ear, to which he chuckled.
The girl departed the elevator, quickly passing me she crossed the lobby and left the building. While her male counterpart of sorts remained in the elevator.
“Going up?” he asked, his fingers hovered over the number-plate inside the elevator door.
I stepped in and knocked is fingers aside, I pressed the very top button on the number-plate the one which wore PH in capital letters.
The doors closed and the elevator began to ascend up the 17 storey building “Everliegh Blair” said the voice behind me, and I turned around expectantly, “I knew she was back, I just didn’t that ‘she’ was ‘you’”
“Do I know you?” I asked, slightly taken aback that he knew my name.
He held out his hand “Grayson Archer”
I stared at his hand, which I had no intention of shaking. Grayson, slowly redrew his hand back.
Just as I was turning back to face the front, he started to talk again, “So how about going out sometime.”
“Wow,” I breathed, “that was really subtle.”
“Well, you know, I’m single, your single, it’s a new year. What do you say?”
“How d’you know I was single?”
“Well, you wouldn’t be here at 9am on new year’s morning if you weren’t”
I put my hands on my hips, we just past the tenth floor, “And what about you, and the blond bombshell?”
“Actress. Late for a casting call.”
“How convenient,” I said, I was thankful, when the elevator came to a stop on the fifteenth floor.
The doors slid open, and he slipped past me, with minimal touching thank god.
“See you around” he said, with a wink as the doors closed on him and the elevator continued on its way up, the last two floors to mine.
The doors opened and I stepped out in the small entrance hall which opened up into the entrance room, which was oval, complete with marble finishing’s and lead off to the kitchen, sitting room, dining room, and library. Walking through the entrance I came to the stair case.
“Hello?” I called out.
The housemaid, Millie walked pasted, carrying fresh towels, greeting me and wishing me a happy new year.
A few seconds later my younger sister Malin Skipped down the stairs to greet me, her boyfriend Xavier in hand, “Happy new year” she said, with a particularly large smile on her face.
The shiny gold buckle of her Mary-Jane heels caught my eye, the pair looking quite familiar. “Nice shoes,” I commented.
“They match my skirt really well” she said in her defence, throwing in “I love you.”
I smiled and she knew that she off the hook.
“Where’s mom?” I asked.
“She’s upstairs, in the middle of packing crisis.” Malin said as she and Xavier headed for the elevator.
“Delightful.” the sarcasm seeped through my teeth. And I headed upstairs.
My mother packing crisis really turned out to be, deciding what shoes to take. And let me tell you something that is really hard when you have to choose between vintage Chanel, and Pucci.
“Right” my mother said when Millie began zipping up her suitcase. “I don’t want any parties, to happen hear while we’re gone. Not that I have to worry about you I mean Malin. And I don’t want Xavier to stay over here either.”
“Okay. Is that all” I asked rubbing my forehead, a hot bath and a hazelnut macaroons sounded really good to me at the moment. And for argument sake mom had the better bathtub.
When the elevator came for mom and Harrison, the concierge stepped out and handed something to me.
A small folded piece of paper with Everliegh, scrawled across the front in delicate cursive.
Marque, 7pm?
-G