Imperfect Truth(13)
“Breathe! I will meet you at my apartment, then we will head to Bergdorf’s. You have the key, so just let yourself in. We will go shop, buy you a dress. After we’re done we can have lunch. Then we can make you an appointment right next door to Bergdorf’s at the Plaza Hotel for hair and makeup…you will be fucking gorgeous, and then they will have no choice but to suck it up. Okay, I’m getting off. I need to eat a little something if I am going to have the energy to shop. See you in a few.”
“Fine,” I blurt out intending to seem pissed off, but only making myself laugh. God, I love Jules. She always tells me exactly how it is, and well, never takes my bullshit. “Wait, not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but what the heck are you doing home today? Don’t you ever work?”
“Well if you must know smart ass, I was working from home.”
“How’s that working out for you?” I laugh.
“Better now,” she says cheerfully into the phone.
“I don’t know how you function in life.” I wish she could see my smirk and my eye roll. She would surely kick my ass.
“Pot, meet kettle,” she says. As I hang up, I can still hear her giggling on the other end.
I look across the street, stopping my eyes on my park. The beauty of the wrought iron gate makes my heart stir. Breathing in the spring air, I find peace. Without fail, every time I look at the beauty of that park, it’s like finding heaven. I smile to myself and turn away, walking towards Park Avenue to Jules’s apartment on 24th street. In comparison to Gramercy, Park Avenue is packed. No longer nestled in my sanctuary, I walk head on into the congestion.
I find myself standing on the corner and waiting for the light to change. Finally after what seems like hours, but is probably only five minutes, I arrive. Smiling to the doorman, I walk to the elevator and ascend to the 6th floor. Stepping off, I make my way to her door and let myself in. As I enter the apartment, I hear Jules in the kitchen. That’s a scary thought.
“Hey, babe,” I call out to her.
“When did you sneak in?” she chimes in.
“I don’t know, somewhere between edible and poisonous?”
She blatantly rolls her eyes at me as she turns the music up on the iPhone dock sitting on the counter. My stomach rolls with disgust as I notice a discarded eggshell sitting adjacent to it. That can’t be sanitary. I fight back my gag reflex.
“Well good morning to you too, biotch,” she shouts over the music blaring. She is dancing while cooking eggs, a recipe for disaster…Her dark brown hair is piled on her head in the sloppiest bun I’ve ever seen, and she is wearing the most disgusting ripped booty shorts. One glance at her, and you would never know that Jules is a law associate at one of the most prestigious firms in city. Right now all you would see is one big hot mess.
All of sudden, the fire detector comes alive interrupting the ass move Jules is doing as the smell of burning eggs and smoke fills the room.
“GOD, JULES,” I cough and choke on the fumes. “Will you ever, I mean ever, learn to cook?” I ask with a look of disbelief on my face. It’s eggs for heaven’s sake.
“Guess I’ll just wait to eat at Bergdorf’s.” She laughs.
Jules is in a fit of hysterics, and I can't help but laugh, too. Just a typical day in Casa De Julia Morgan. After the quick brush with death, Jules changes. Wow, does she clean up well. She grabs her purse, shoots me her killer smile, and we set off on our way.
WE STEP OUT ON the corner of 24th and Park. A shadow is cast over the city. The impeding rain imminent. Cars fly by in flashes of color. Red, black, white. My eyes search out yellow, my arm held high above my head. As the next cab nears it comes to a stop. Stepping inside it smells of mold, mildew, and a stench I can’t even decipher. “Bergdorf’s please.” He nods and speeds off, swerving through traffic. Jules and I both brace ourselves with the seat in front of us. I might become sick. Pushing down the feelings gathering in my stomach, I focus out the window. The city speeds by in rush of movements, and I become lost in the urban backdrop. When the cab pulls over in front of Bergdorf Goodman, I’m brought back to reality. Smiling to myself I think, ‘Where Dreams Come True.’
“Okay, Ava, first things first. A dress. And I know exactly which one you need to get.” She pauses as a smile comes across her face that hints of sin. “You have the cutest little body, and I know you’ll be smoking hot in a Herve Leger dress. Let’s go!”
She basically pulls my arm out of its socket as she drags me up the escalators. Within minutes, I’m butt naked in a dressing room being zipped up by a saleswoman for the two-man job of a dress. But wow, once on I have to admit, not only did it fit me like a glove, but it makes me look like every man’s wet dream. The tight-fitting bandage dress is low in the front showing ample cleavage and tied around the neck making a bra unnecessary. The dress stops at my upper thigh and leaves little to the imagination. It’s amazing. I look at the price tag.