It was one more miracle in a week of small miracles.
Elsa
looked at the filled seats - six altogether - crowded around the
red-checked tablecloth in the busy suburban bistro. She shook her
head in wonder.
An elbow in a formal black work jacket nudged her own plain
sleeve. The jog made the pale straw Sauvignon Blanc in her glass
splash over the rim.
"Amazing, hey?" Marie, the lawyer, said. "All of us together for
the first time in… how long?"
"Too long," said Elsa firmly, licking the wine drops off her
knuckles.
"You're normally the one missing," pointed out Julie from Elsa's
other side. "Last time you were stuck in Wellington because of that
storm." She pushed at the frizzy strands that had escaped her many
hairpins. As an office manager, she strove for a sleek look, but
her hair rarely co-operated.
"I recall the time before, Elsa. You arrived as the kitchen was
closing." Phyl's deep voice, ideal for carrying across university
lecture halls, boomed across the table. "We saw you for a scant ten
minutes before we all had to start leaving for babysitters and last
trains."
"And even then your ghastly boss was still trying to get hold of
you!"
"It's a real shame," added Susannah, dragging her attention away
from the baby photos Amy was proudly sharing. "You're the glue that
keeps us together, Elsa. You always organise these evenings, but
then some client or travel drama keeps you away."
Elsa shrugged. It was all true. Investment banking hours and
socialising with the friends she loved mixed like oil and water.
But girls," she leaned forward and smiled. "Things are going to
change. From tonight in fact! I'm going to attend every
get-together we have. I've decided the time has come for fun."
"Oh, Elsa, don't promise that," said Amy. "You'll only stress
yourself trying to make it happen. If you want more fun alongside
your job, surely you have to pick something where the timing's
flexible and doesn't involve lots of other people."
"It's not fun if it doesn't involve other people," Elsa
objected. The bistro's bustle, the chatter and clatter of plates
always soothed her, and her girlfriends gathered around made it
perfect.
"What about a spa for some pampering occasionally?" asked Marie.
"Honestly, some days I fantasise about that. No phones, no
meetings, just me, and lots of soothing fingers and creams."
"Or soaking in the bath?" suggested Susannah. Ever the marketer,
she began counting off benefits on her fingers. "Very cheap,
entirely flexible timing, add salts and scents of your own
choosing, uninterrupted time to enjoy a great book - and no-one to
see how much chocolate you gobble up in there!"
"Or wine!" added Julie, reaching over to top up Susannah's glass
and then her own.
"I know what I fantasise about and it's definitely something to
be done alone," laughed Amy, pointing with both forefingers to the
dark circles under her eyes. "Sleep, and no baby waking me up!"
"That's what comes of doing the Other Thing before
going to sleep," teased Julie, and raised her brimming glass in
acknowledgement as Amy stuck out her tongue in reply.
"But Elsa here never has time to find a man," Phyl declared. Her
words, loud as always, dropped into a brief lull in the general
hubbub and several diners turned from their meals to look for the
loveless woman.
While her friends tried to swallow their giggles, and Susannah
jabbed Phyl in the ribs, Elsa's gaze searched out Serge, the
bistro's manager. He towered over a group near the door, deftly
collecting menus and sharing his lazy smile. If he hadn't heard
Phyl's pronouncement it would be another little miracle. She might
not have a man, but she didn't need any male, especially one as
easy on the eye as Serge, thinking she was desperate.
"I'm sorry, Elsa," said Phyl, speaking as quietly as she could.
"You must agree though, that while we are all career women, you're
the one who's most married to her job."
"Phyl's right," said Marie. "You work even more hours than I do,
plus you're in six different cities and three different time zones
every month. Of course, you're getting closer to that corner office
than any of us, which is great… but you've never found someone
special to share the journey with."
"Except us, " Julie pointed out, pushing the frizzy ends off her
forehead again. "And we're not husband material."
"So what do you all recommend for your poor, sad friend?" asked
Elsa, enjoying both the attention and the genuine caring that she
knew fed it.
"Shopping!" said Susannah.
Elsa snorted. "I may be out of touch, but last I heard they
weren't stocking men in retail stores."
"Which is why you need to shop till you drop. Convert all that
pent-up need into fabulous new outfits." Susannah screwed up her
eyes as she conjured up a mental image.
"A new come-hither look," agreed Julie. "Let's drink to that."
She drained the last of the Sauvignon into the glasses nearest her
and waved the empty bottle above her head. Serge, ever-efficient,
caught the motion and smoothly altered course to pass their table
and pluck the bottle away.
"Same again, mesdames?" His blue gaze focused on Elsa
for a heartbeat - long enough to see her hand discreeetly flash the
'five minutes' signal they'd agreed - before he nodded to the
others.
"Lovely," said Julie swivelling her head to see him, too.
"Thanks, Serge, you're a girl's best friend."
He sketched a short, comic bow before striding away. Elsa's eyes
followed him, but Susannah tapped her hand to bring her back to
business.
"Listen, this is important. We need to plan your shopping. I'm
talking outfits that are one hundred per cent right for intimate
evenings."
"Something full of colour," suggested Marie. "We've all seen
enough black to last a lifetime." She tugged at her own sleeve in
mild disgust.
"And showing lots of skin," added Amy. "I seem to have lost my
waist since Billy was born, but you've got such a lovely figure.
You should flaunt it.."
Elsa knew she wouldn't get a more opportune moment. Serge had
disappeared into the kitchen, but he'd soon be back. She held the
gaze of each of her companions in turn as she unzipped her long,
plain jacket and shrugged it free of her shoulders.
"Something, maybe, like this?"
The jacket fell away to reveal a strapless bodice, in a shade of
deep orange perfectly judged to highlight the tanned tones of her
skin. Low cut, it made the most of her curves before plunging down
to the black velvet skirt below.
A collective gasp rewarded her for the hours she'd spent hunting
for the ensemble. Her smile grew as wide as her friends' eyes.
"This, girls, is the new me. I told you: the time has come for
fun. No more dark clothes. No more crazy hours or foreign clients."
She paused. "No more targeting the corner office either."
Five jaws dropped.
"What are you saying, Elsa?" boomed Phyl, and then clapped her
hand over her mouth as the words rang out.
Elsa waved the implicit apology away. "You can shout about this
to everyone, Phyl, as loud as you like. I bought a half share in
this bistro from Lucy on Monday. I resigned from the bank on
Tuesday. I know business and Lucy knows food. She wants to expand
and I want to be part of something I can help grow."
Julie's wits returned first. She snapped her jaw shut and
slapped the table. "Where's Serge? Never mind the Sauvignon, this
calls for a special toast."
"So that's why you said you'd always be here for our meetings
from now on," said Amy in wonderment.
"But your career," moaned Marie. "You've worked so hard!"
"And I've missed so much. You've all been telling me so. I've
missed all of you, I've missed romance, I've missed life. But now
I'm back, so watch out!"
She glanced towards the kitchen. With impeccable timing, Serge
was weaving his way towards her through the tables, glass flutes
sparkling between the fingers of one hand and two bottles of her
specially chosen champagne in the other. His eyes bulged
gratifyingly as he took in the bodice she'd revealed. That
triggered laughter around the table and her girlfriends all leaped
up to kiss and congratulate her, to marvel and exclaim.
As soon as Phyl grasped her flute of bubbles she turned to the
bistro's other diners, by now all staring curiously at their happy
group. In her resonant tones, she announced a toast to the new
co-owner. The warmth of the immediate cheers and whoops that
filled the room, merging with those of her dear friends, made
Elsa's eyes prick.
Leaving her corporate career behind hadn't been a quick or easy
decision, but, since she'd made it, a long-dormant sense of
anticipation had started to blossom. Now, seeing so many happy
faces through her unshed tears, she was certain she'd find enough
compensations in her new life.
Serge reached across to pour her champagne. The heavy bottle
made the sinews in his wrist stand out and she caught the faint
lemony scent of his cologne.
More than enough compensations, she decided.
And more than a little fun.
THE END
© Professionelle 2009