Page 20 of The Devil Wears Orange
Charlotte groans. “Just where did all the other friends go? Melted away by a career that took over every aspect of my life, I suppose.”
Harriet sighs. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“And are these fashion colleagues really my friends now that I’ve been kicked out of the circle? Hmmm,” says Charlotte, “a piece on the levels of friendship could make for an interesting article, prefaced with an “Is She Really Your BFF? Quiz.”
Returning to her phone, Charlotte continues to scroll and read, harrumphs and gasps until Jack places his hand gently on her phone. “Put it down, Charlotte,” he tells her in a quiet tone. “This is needless torture.” She looks bewildered by what she’s seen on the news, but Jack sees how scared she is. Whatever these thieves had promised her, it seems she now realizes it wasn’t worth her career, or her reputation.
Charlotte puts her phone away and says, “Aren’t you going to ask me, Harriet?”
“Ask you what?”
“If I’m guilty?”
“Oh, Charlotte, don’t be ridiculous. You don’t have an adventurous bone in your body to pull something like this.”
“Thank you, I think.”
“Where will you go now? The crazed paparazzi will find you no matter which hotel you check yourself into,” says Harriet.
“I’m not sure,” Charlotte answers quietly. She pushes her plate of food away. “Everyone I know is in fashion and I’m sure my termination at the magazine will lend fuel to this fire, this social media frenzy that has painted me a thief.”
Harriet snorts. “I see what you did there.”
“I’m done on so many fronts. I have no job. No prospects. I’m going to lose my apartment. I have no place to go.”
“I know of a place where we can stay.”
Both women turn to Jack. His statement surprises even him.
“It’s a vineyard,Chateau Emilie, nearVille de Loire. It also operates as a B&B during the spring and summer months, so I can book us rooms. How ‘bout it, Charlotte? Get away from all this nonsense.” The smile is frozen to his face. He has no clue where this idea came from. It’s a good idea, he reasons with himself. It will keep him close to her and perhaps she’ll open up. So why is he holding his breath waiting for her to answer, heart thumping like a teenager?
“Charlotte,” says Harriet, cackling, “won’t go anywhere with a stranger. She has men fill out application forms for one-night stands.”
“Not true,” mutters Charlotte.
Harriet places a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “When it comes to sex, Americans aren’t progressive like us Europeans.”
“Harriet, enough.” Charlotte points to the suitcases Harriet brought. “I have all I need to go wherever.”
Harriet rests her hand on Charlotte’s, her crinkled forehead displays concern. “Poor darling. One would hope you don’t have that hideous raincoat tucked away somewhere. Wearing it began this travesty.”
A sudden laugh bursts from Jack, which is met with consternation from Charlotte and he smothers his laughter with a cough. Granted, he knows nothing about fashion, but he’s glad someone pointed to the ridiculousness of the outfit.
After Jack settles the bill, Charlotte, Harriet, and Jack awkwardly stare at one another next to his car. Silence fills up the space between them though it’s time for good-byes. He notices Harriet’s demure smile, and the tilt of her head that indicates she can handle the standoff. He hauls Charlotte’s luggage into the boot of the car to speed things along.
“Thank you, Harriet, for your help,” Charlotte says. Again, she hugs her and, this time, Harriet hugs back with a tight squeeze.
Harriet then breaks free and turns to Jack, arms outstretched. “Don’t hesitate to call me,” she tells him and wraps her arms around his neck.
“We won’t,” Jack responds, and he’s so uncomfortable with the attention that he breaks away from Harriet’s embrace.
Harriet says, “I’m thinking of popping over to England from here, maybe we can get together...”
“Thank you,” Jack cuts her off, “that would be wonderful.” Then, he plops himself into the driver’s seat before they canfirm up any plans. After a final goodbye wave from Charlotte, the Peugeot drives away; the image in the passenger’s mirror of Harriet waving grows smaller.
A few raindrops hit the windshield.
“Why don’t you close your eyes for a while and rest? I’ll wake you as soon...” Heavy breathing interrupts him. He turns to see she’s slouched in the seat, eyes closed, mouth open.
