Trouble finding Blondie (44 page)

She grabbed the bottle and read the label. 1807 Carlsbad. Strangely enough, it didn’t say Karlovy Vary.

What does that mean? Who drinks Becherovka these days? Nobody. It’s all Jameson, Johnny Walker, Jaegermeister… bla bla bla. Nobody appreciates this historical secret recipe any more?! The alchemist blend of herbs and spices that a guy... what’s his name? Jan Becher… came up it?
 

NO, we drink other crap. With shiny, new labels. We take for granted what is ours. Things we should cherish, protect, and appreciate! We think new, exciting… But really, does it taste better? Is it better for us?

WTF? Am I still talking about Becherovka?! I’m losing it. Shivers are over, let’s move.
 

Simona stood up and went to the bathroom, washed her face, and came back to find her phone. She looked at the Becherovka bottle one more time with genuine admiration and said, “I appreciate you. You are one of a kind. You never let me down. And I will never take you for granted.”

The fact that she was talking to a bottle didn’t bother her. She smiled and dialed the number.

“Well, how nice of you to remember to call me. Do I really have to go and look up your flight to see if the bird landed safely? What happened to ‘Landed safely, love you, bye?’ So, was he surprised?”

Philipe was going on and on… Simona thought she was ready to talk, but hearing Philippe’s voice now blocked her air supply. She had a rock in her throat.

“Philippe,” she said it in a raspy voice.

“What’s wrong? Why do you have a hoarse voice?” Philippe could hear how hard she was breathing, trying to speak. “Just breathe, take your time. I’m here. Just take your time. I will walk you through it, ok? You have to answer just yes or no,” Philippe was doing his best to stay calm himself.
 

“Are you physically hurt?”

“No.”

“Are you safe?”

“Yes.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“You are safe, not physically hurt, assuming in your hotel room. It’s not life threatening, fuck it then. You taught me that. But I have a better one. If it’s not life threatening, we will fix it.”

“We won’t.”

“Is it Francois?”

“No. I have to get him in the morning.”

“How bad is it then?”

“It’s over.”

“Crap. Alright, what now? What do you need?”

“I need to get out of here.”

“I will arrange tickets.”
                                                                                                   
”

“No. I don’t want to fly commercial. He has connections, especially in Prague.”

“Alright, private plane then.”

“Everything is closed. I don’t want it on my name. I need your plane. Please.”

“Done.”

“Philippe, I can’t think. I’m dead.”

“Where is Francois?”

“I have to get him in the morning from his brother.”

“Do you want somebody to go with you?”

“No, they don’t need to know. They are the nicest people.”

“What if he is there?”

“I hope not.”

“Alright, what is the name of the hotel you are at? Don’t get up. Just turn the GPS on your phone on, I will get it…. Alright, got it. What time do you want the car for?”

“5 AM.”

“Done. I will call you in a couple of hours.”

“I’m not suicidal, Philippe. I’m dead.”

“I know, but you are not going to sleep, so I will just check on you. And… Simo…”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry...”

“Me too. She was the one I liked the most.”

“Who?”

“Blondie.”

“What?”

“He killed her. She is dead, Philippe.”

Silence. It is the worse thing. Listening to another person’s breathing. Lost for words.

“I love you.”

“Thank you, Philippe, for everything.”

Philippe was already dressed, looking at his date.

“I’m sorry. I will make it up to you. I promise.”

“I love you?!”

“You wouldn’t understand. She is hmm… my sister. My best friend. My priest. The list is long, but it’s not what you are thinking.”

“Everybody knows who that is. And you are the only fool that is blind.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

The gorgeous brunette stood up and walked naked right by him. The temptation for another round was there, but his mind was already gone.

Philippe got into a cab. Marcello was going to pick him up in the morning. He had to wake him up.

“Yes, boss?”

“Sorry, Marcello, time to get up. Meet me at my house.”

“Will be there in 20 min, boss.”

“Thanks.”

Philippe took care of the plane and the car. It was time to take care of Simona. Philippe dialed the number…

26

"YOU WILL GET ONLY AS MUCH LOVE AS YOU ARE CAPABLE TO GIVE."

“SPILL IT.”

“NO hello? No what a lovely surprise?”

“Philippe, I know you better than that. It’s 2 AM, and it’s an emergency. Why waste time?”

“I swear you are a man, Marie. A soldier that is in full gear in seconds ready for the war. Let me remind you, this is not a war zone. We live in peace,” Philippe was smiling, and so was Marie on the other end.

“With you, it’s always crazy, borderline on every front. The law, life, freedom. Do you, Mr. Machinery Clueless, even know what full gear means?”

“Of course I do. Why do you think I have fast cars? It’s when I push the gas to the floor I leave everyone behind.”

“That is true. You do, and not only on the road. That is what I love about you, Philippe. But let me give you the right definition, just in case you need to impress someone in the future. It’s the maximum amount of steam into the cylinders.”

“Alright, got it. I don’t need your full battle throttle tonight. I need your nurturing side. I have a wounded soldier. She needs a bath, food… you need to make her look human in the morning. Her hair, makeup, the whole nine yards. She is going to be very submissive, no talking back, so it should be a no brainer for you.”

“Address and name?”

“I will order some room service at the Four Seasons. Can you just pick it up on your way from the front desk?”

“Philippe, I got this,” Marie said impatiently. “What do you want me to get?”

“Soup, salad, some pasta or risotto. Something easy to eat. She won’t taste a thing, but it has to be good food. I couldn’t think of a better place at this hour.”

“You are right. I got it. Are you going to tell her I am coming?”

“Yes. Thank you, Marie.”

“I miss you, Philippe.”
“See you in the morning.”

He hung up, and Marie was a little thrown off.

Is he coming? Really? He did say see you in the morning… Who is this VIP that he will be here for in a few hours?
 

Her curiosity was running, but her body was already in... as Philippe put it ‘full throttle.’ Marie was dressed, on the phone, and out of the door when she got a text:
‘You are not allowed to drive. Take a taxi, please.’

She smiled and grabbed her helmet from her Nautilus; the affectionate name she gave her motorbike.

❖ ❖ ❖

Simona was numb. Dead, as she put it. She felt nothing. No pain. No sadness. Nothing.
 

This is not bad actually. Being dead is not bad. I feel nothing. Is it shock? Is it the silence before the storm? Is it my magical friend Becherovka? If someone asked me how to describe it, what would I say?

Hmm, it’s lovely. It’s like a million tiny little bitters warming up your inside. It goes down, you have a herby spicy taste in your mouth, it travels down your throat like a warm waterfall that rides by your heart relieving the tension, then down your stomach and intestines. It is like a cave from the Discovery Channel when they light it up with fire and light. It takes a few seconds, but it has a calming effect. It’s like a chief that calms down angry Indians that are shaking the walls. It’s more than two hundred years old medicine. No wonder it does magic!

She would probably continue going on and on about it, but her phone rang.

“Philippe.”

“I am not going to ask you how you are doing. I have a pretty good idea. I just wanted you to know that someone is coming to take care of you.”

She wanted to say something, but he wouldn’t let her.

“This is my turn to speak and to do things. You also asked me to, remember? So, just stay dead. Dead is good for now. You need to have it together in the morning. We have to go get your son. You need to sleep at least an hour or two. Remember who you are doing it for.”

“Being dead is not bad, Philippe.”

“Do you have Becera or whatever that nasty thing is that you used to have in your freezer?”

“It’s Becherovka. And don’t you be talking badly about it. It’s a medicine!”

“Well, how much of that medicine did you have already?”

“I don’t know. I only found a wine glass.”

“Alright. As for numbing the pain, it was the best thing you could have done. It’s enough for now. You want to wake people up at six in the morning. You can’t smell like alcohol. Get up. Go to the minibar, and get a bottle of Pellegrino out.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Move! I’m waiting.”

“Ok, ok, I’m on slow mo... Hold your horses.”
“You don’t ever drink hard alcohol. This could be a disaster.”

“You are right. I will get my shit together.”

“What did you just say? Say it again. You know I have been taping this conversation. This is going on my answering machine.”

“Very funny, Mr. Right. And don’t get used to it either.” All that remained was an attempt to joke about the situation. It was a good sign; he made her smile at least. Marie should be there in no time. Everything was under control.

“Promise me something.”

“You are totally taking advantage of me tonight, and I hope you are fully enjoying it.”

Her sarcasm was back, another good sign. Progress was being made.

“Yes. Absolutely. You are going to do everything Marie asks you or tells you to do. Deal?”

“Hope this is not your black humor to get me to do something stupid.”

“Say it.”

“Fine! I promise.”

“Good. Are you drinking?”

“You said to stop.”

“I meant the Pellegrino, you idiot.”

Simona was laughing. Philippe realized she was pulling his leg.

“I don’t need this abuse. Good night!”

It was 2:30 in the morning, and Philippe was already in the air. He texted Marie and Simona that the car pick up was changed to 5:30 AM.

❖ ❖ ❖

Andre was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window. He felt nauseated, a feeling of being stabbed in the stomach. All he could feel was guilt and regret. The typical feelings of satisfaction and pleasure from sex, the dopamine, were nowhere to be found.

Vinciane moved behind him and touched his back. Andre felt as if an electric current just ran through his whole body. She felt rejection, and the regret on his face wasn’t easy for her to digest either.

“I don’t understand. You are acting like I drugged you. Twisted your arm or something.”

Andre knew all too well that she may not be innocent, but he was the one to blame.

“I’m sorry. You are right. It’s not your fault. I’m disgusted with myself. How did this happen? What have I done?”

He started to have a monologue with himself, walking around naked, looking for his clothes. Vinciane was watching him, getting irritated. She didn’t get what she wanted, and now he was fucking up her mood even more.

“You know you can still go back and save your ass. They are probably still there. Maybe they didn’t even notice that you have been gone for a couple of hours.”

He looked at her with disbelief as if she were speaking Chinese. She thinks this is about their friends? His reputation? Or how to cover this up? This is about him destroying his life and everything he loves. Everybody he loves. The two people that mean the world to him. Simona...

“Oh, my God. What time is it in NY?”

“What? You are going to call her and confess your sins? Wow. You are crazy.”

Andre looked at the naked woman on the bed. She was lovely, and he enjoyed her company. They had a really good time together, but it wasn’t Simona. It wasn’t the woman he loved.

So, what am I still doing here? I have to get out of here. How did I get here in the first place?

“I’m sorry. I really am. I have to go. Good bye, Vinciane.”

“Don’t let the door hit you, asshole!”

❖ ❖ ❖