That night I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking of Niccolò and my embarrassing performance. I kept seeing him gently touching Anna’s neck. I thought how lonely I was. The sense of failure was overwhelming. I didn’t even exact a decent revenge!
I stared at my alarm clock, counting the hours I’d been awake. I was pondering how strange love is – it seems so difficult but it’s simpler than we think. Actually, it’s not rocket science. Love comes when we least expect it – like coming upon a wildflower in a field. Suddenly we are elated. Love is an intimate emotion and it grows at a different pace and intensity for everyone. When it’s reciprocated, it’s a miracle. It fills us, our bodies, our minds. Love gives deeper meaning to our days, to our lives. But when it’s not returned, or is denied, love becomes a painful, crushing burden.
I didn’t sleep at all. The next morning, I got out of bed with puffy eyes and a headache. I made coffee very slowly, looking out of the window. An important day was ahead and I had to forget about my anxiety and love obsession.
I showered and then went to my closet to choose what to wear. Every time I start a new job, I feel nervous, anxious, but also excited – like the first day of school.
My closet offered a wide range of choices: sheath dresses, suits, trousers of all styles, jackets, striped t-shirts, hats, cashmere sweaters, skirts, and shirts that I hated to press and always sent to the dry cleaner.
I didn’t buy anything new for that day, but so what? As Coco Chanel once said: Elegance does not mean putting on a new dress. I was convinced I could still look great without wearing something new.
I selected a light grey sheath dress with round neckline and paired it with cap toe black and white shoes, in perfect Chanel style. Last touch: six strings of pearls around my neck.
I put just a little make-up on – only to cover the circles under my eyes – and finally a few drops of Chanel No 5, my precious talisman.
I looked at myself in the mirror and felt satisfied: professional, good-looking and elegant.
I put on my funky sunglasses, grabbed my Marni handbag – one of my favourites, but it was always so heavy, filled with so much stuff! I left my apartment, anxious and with a slight a stomach ache.
That morning in the subway I couldn’t help but notice many young couples apparently in love, squeezed among sleepy commuters. Their caresses, whispers and holding hands got on my nerves. So corny! There should be a law to forbid couples to kiss and cuddle in public places. Who ever said that all humanity has to witness and enjoy other people’s love making?
When I arrived at my office building – way too early – I stopped at the café below to have a cappuccino. I sat near the window to watch what kind of people entered. Then I picked up my courage and entered. My new colleagues all seemed young and hip. They wore casual but trendy clothes, most of them had smart phone ear buds, and they smiled a lot at one other saying good morning.
I had an appointment with the agency’s director and wasn’t sure where to go. While trying to figure out the office floor plan, I saw the guy who had saved me from that embarrassing fall just a few days before. He wore a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up and looked so sexy. He carried a huge box that he probably had to deliver to someone working in the building. He must have been an errand boy. The most handsome errand boy I had ever seen.
He approached me with his perfect smile and sparkling eyes: “Nice to see you again… happy to see you are now able to stand!”
I felt like an idiot. I wished a trap door would open below me and make me disappear forever.
“Hmm… I’m doing my best to keep my balance,” I said, trying to be funny.
He kept staring at me and I went back to look at the office map on the wall to escape his blue eyes, while I felt my cheeks blushing.
“Are you lost?” He asked kindly, coming closer to me. He smelled good.
“Yes… It’s my first day here and I don’t know where all the offices are yet. I have an appointment with Mr Parisi. Do you know where his office is?”
“Sure! Second floor, second door on your left. I’m going in the same direction,” he said, pointing towards the elevator. His accent was very elegant. French, I thought.
The elevator stopped at our floor and he gallantly invited me to enter first. I tried to make some kind of small talk to overcome the embarrassment. “You must have an interesting job…”
He looked at me with perplexity.
“Well, I mean, delivering packages all around Milan… I’m sure you must meet a lot of people,” I realized how ridiculous I sounded.
In fact, he laughed: “Oh, oui. It’s really a beautiful job. One gets to meet many interesting people.”
“Are the packages you carry really heavy?” (Congratulations Coco! Very intelligent question.)
“I deliver any kind of packages: large, small, huge, heavy and light,” he smiled and kept staring at me with his magnetic look.
Finally, we arrived at the second floor and he led me to the director’s office.
“You are really pretty when you walk without stumbling,” he caught me by surprise and I blushed up to my ears.
“Thank you… Believe me, I usually don’t fall into the arms of strangers.” I said staring down at my feet to avoid his gaze.
He knocked lightly on Mr Parisi’s door, but didn’t wait for an answer to enter. “C’est moi!”
I was right – he was French!
“Come in,” a young voice said. They seem to know each other very well.
I expected the typical, predictable boss: a distinguished man in his fifties, with a navy suit, a boring tie, and elegant shoes. On the contrary, on the other side of the desk I saw a smiling young man about my age, wearing jeans and a Clash t-shirt.
“I brought the documents you were looking for,” the errand boy said confidently, “and then I found a new hire on the elevator.”
Both of them smiled warmly at me.
“You must be our new resource from Venice,” he said, inviting me to sit.
“My name is Rebecca Bruni.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rebecca. If you don’t mind, we can be informal…”
“Sure,” I always felt a little uncomfortable using a formal tone with people my age.
“Thank you, Etienne,” he addressed the man who had just placed the box on his desk.
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone now,” he said heading to the door. “Hope to meet you again, Rebecca – maybe in the elevator.” His look was full of irony.
I smiled shyly at him. As soon as he left, Paolo looked at me for a moment and said: “So you have worked at One for about five years, organizing scientific-medical conventions.”
“Correct.”
“All positions are filled in our conventions division, but, as we discussed with the Venice agency, there are other positions open.”
“Yes, I’ve been informed of this. I would like to try working at different kinds of events.”
“Good! I like people who love change. Your new position will be in a division that we only recently opened, and we’re very excited about it and proud of it. Your work will be organizing wedding receptions.”
Weddings! It must have been a big misunderstanding. I didn’t know anything about weddings! I knew only that they were very expensive and boring parties, organized in historical villas with little gravel paths that ruined my heels, where I always met relatives that I hated meeting, who always asked me: “And you, Rebecca? When will you marry?” I had never liked weddings and now – single with a broken heart – I liked them even less. I didn’t think I was the right person to help some corny couples in love realize their dream.
“Weddings?” I asked with a puzzled tone. “I thought, hoped, you would have assigned me to organize fashion events, boutique openings, art gallery exhibitions…”
“At the moment all other positions are filled. We really need new creative people for our new exciting adventure: the weddings division.”
The more I thought about it, the more I realized it wasn’t the right work for me. I could do any kind of thing, even organize dogs’ beauty contests, but not weddings. No way. I detested brides, sugary music, wedding cakes full of calories and lace and chiffon dresses. But most of all, I didn’t want to work in the name of love. I hated love.
“Listen, Paolo… May I call you Paolo?”
“Sure, Rebecca,”
“I’m sorry but I don’t think I’m the right person for organizing weddings events. I never married and my parents divorced when I was a kid. I don’t think I have any feeling for wedding parties. In addition, I am single.”
“Don’t worry Rebecca, at the beginning you’ll be led through the process by a colleague who will explain everything you need to know: music, cakes, wedding rings, white doves and flowers. She will train you until you are ready to be on your own. We’ll make you the best wedding planner on the scene.”
He smiled and stood up to signal that our conversation was finished. So I had to organize wedding receptions. In fact, I would become the best wedding planner in Italy, more, in the entire world! I felt a slight sense of vertigo.
Paolo led me to the door and explained where the office was of the person who would introduce me to the joys of weddings. He shook my hand: “Welcome Rebecca. Every day will be an event.” He quoted the ad that made the agency famous.
The little bit of enthusiasm I had found to face my first day at work began to abandon me. But I decided to find the courage to hold on, at least until the end of the day.
I took the elevator to the fifth floor. I checked myself in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw.
When I got to the wedding planning department, I asked for Valentina De Bois. I quickly counted five people. A short girl, with very tight jeans and a navy silk shirt – which revealed her generous cleavage – walked towards me. She also had on a pair of faux leopard boots with heels so high I couldn’t figure out how she could walk. But she seemed very comfortable, as if wearing slippers. Her skin was the colour of mahogany – tanning spray or tanning bed? I wondered. Her fake smile didn’t promise anything good. I immediately felt she was about as nice as a hammer smashing your toes!
“Valentina. You must be Rebecca,” she extended her hand with long turquoise polished nails.
“Yes, Rebecca Bruni. Nice to meet you.”
“Your sheath dress is nice… how shall I say? So out-of-date… Is it vintage?”
“Well, someone used to say, fashion passes, style remains,” I said definitely irritated.
“It’s not what my Dolce & Gabbana jeans would say…”
Ok, she was a bitch! I should ignore her provocation.
“Your desk is that one, on the corner. As you know, we plan wedding receptions. Our ad says, we will transform your most important day into a unique event. In short, we are working for hysterical brides and very rich grooms.”
Well, said this way, the whole deal sounded even more exciting! I had to restrain myself from jumping for joy.
“We organize everything: the selection of dresses, wedding rings, location, catering, flowers, cars, even the type of confetti. We offer a complete service and we are the best. Do you understand? The best,” she said with pride. “And I co-ordinate everything!” Humility evidently wasn’t her best skill.
I went to my desk without a word and turned on the computer. I began to look at the documents that someone had put in a file called Rebecca. There were miscellaneous items: photographs of events, budgets, quotes, the history of the company, and a document stating the agency’s mission. I spent most of the morning going over these documents, then I took a break and went to the coffee vending machine. There I met two girls who seemed nice. They smiled and introduced themselves. Marika and Sara worked in marketing. When they learned that Valentina was my tutor, they laughed, wishing me good luck!
As I was finishing my watery cappuccino, Etienne approached me with an amused smile.
“So… Rebecca.”
“Yes… Etienne.” I extended my hand for a formal introduction. He shook it, still smiling.
“How is your morning going so far?” He selected an espresso from the vending machine.
“Well, I’m trying to settle in… It’s too early to say, new colleagues, the wedding thing and Valentina…”
“She’s a tough nut, right?”
“Do you know her?’
“Yes, I’ve met her a few times… for some deliveries.”
“I wonder why bosses hire people with that kind of attitude… They should know immediately what kind of person they are going to get! Don’t you think? A boss’s task should be to create teams that also function from the human perspective… Ok, sorry for the tirade. I sometimes think that managers are a little dull. They should know better.”
He winked. “Come on! Chill out… First days are always the most difficult, but you’ll see, eventually it will be fun.”
Well, with errand boys like you – I thought – maybe it will be fun. “Thank you! I’ll survive.”
He tossed his cup in the trash can and turned towards me. “Beautiful pearls!” Then he left.
I stood there watching him walk away, then I looked down and saw an envelope. I picked it up. It was addressed to him with elegant hand writing. I thought of calling him back, but he had already disappeared. And now? I felt the impulse to open it, but I couldn’t go against all my principles just because of a blue-eyed beautiful guy. I would keep it until our next encounter. It could be a good excuse to talk again. I turned to go back to my very, very simpatica Valentina.
When I got back to my office she was at my desk, touching my hand bag I’d thrown on the chair.
“Very soft leather,” she said.
“Yes, I bought it in an outlet near Venice. It was a wonderful bargain!”
“May I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why did you move to Milan? It was for a man, right?”
Her disregard for my privacy got on my nerves. “No, I moved to Milan to grow professionally.”
“Sure! Maybe you even have the ambition to become a CEO…” She laughed out loud. “Are you sure you didn’t move here for some handsome Milanese?”
I couldn’t understand why this tasteless woman had to put me through this inquisition about my personal life. If she weren’t my boss, I would have sent her to hell without a second thought.
“No, I’m single.”
“Single in Milan? Competition is tough here…” she said sarcastically.
Why didn’t she mind her own business? “Well, I thought Milan would be a good place to start over…”
“Everything is clear now! You thought that in the big city you would find more prey to have fun! I can imagine how many guys you’ll conquer with your little grandma dresses…”
I was ready to throw the whole computer at her little blonde head. “I don’t want to find prey to have fun,” my voice was rising “I simply want to grow professionally, meet new friends – and why not? – one day maybe find a guy with whom to share all this. Is that enough for you?” I was going to lose my temper. I felt angry and hurt, but to start crying in front of my new colleagues on my first day of work would not have been a good start.
“Oh, you are so romantic! Love, Love, Love.”
I didn’t understand why she kept provoking me. I couldn’t see her objective. Did she want to make a fool of me in front of everybody so I would run away? Undermine my already fragile self-confidence to show she was powerful? I tried to breathe and calm myself.
Now she was saying, “You really are a naïve provincial girl. Do you think you’ll find your Prince Charming? Men are all assholes. You don’t know how many grooms I find – organizing weddings – who want to take me to bed!”
“Well, good. I see, a wedding planner who sacrifices herself for the cause! May I go back to work now?” I had to end that painful conversation.
“Yes, that’s why you’re here, honey.” Fuck you – I thought. “You can start to study these…” she added, pointing to some fat files. Then she moved on to harass someone else.
While trying to focus on the boring files, I remembered Etienne’s letter. I was extremely curious. I noticed it was open… Could I give at least a quick glance? I was conflicted. Maybe it was something very important and I had to return it as soon as possible. I was ready to put it back, when the light letter slipped out. It was written in French, my second language. Destiny had chosen for me. I had to read it. Two lines were enough to understand that it was a declaration of love. It ended with, do you want to marry me, Etienne? Yours, Juliette.
I was embarrassed. My young blue-eyed man was engaged! Maybe he was going to marry soon. I felt a strange sensation, as if I were somehow involved. Why did I feel that I needed to do something about it? Why did I think I knew Etienne’s answer? I couldn’t stop thinking of those passionate words. I had a weird feeling and felt my heart in my throat.
At that point the bitch came back to my desk. “Do you think we pay you to attend to your own business?”
I blushed, feeling guilty. “Sorry… I’ll go back to work right now.”
“Listen darling, I don’t know what you were used to in your humid, wet, provincial town, but here we work seriously. If I tell you to do something, you must do it and right away!” She stared at me with small, evil eyes etched with crow’s feet. Then she returned to her desk and I couldn’t help sticking out my tongue at her back as she walked away.
*
I needed to hear a friendly voice and tell someone about this ironic turn my life was taking. I called Emma.
“Hi, do you have a few minutes?”
“Hi Coco! How is it going?”
“Well, I wanted to talk to you about something. They assigned me to organize weddings!”
“What?” Emma started laughing. “I can’t see you organizing wedding receptions! Did you tell them about your performance at my cousin’s wedding?”
“When I stumbled into the table where the five-layered cake was placed and it fell on the floor? I don’t think it’s funny.”
“You should have told your boss! It was an incredibly funny scene. My Australian relatives still remember it. In every e-mail they send me, they always ask me about you.”
“See, I’m a disaster. How can I be a wedding planner?”
“Coco, I think you are taking it too seriously. It’s just work! Perhaps your karma is saying something to you. Helping other women to organize their dream day might help you to believe in love again.”
“Speaking of love, I did a horrible thing… Emma, I read a letter addressed to another person.”
“You? Miss Privacy is sacred?”
“Umm, yes. It was by chance… There is this very handsome guy who works as the errand boy and his letter fell into my hands… I didn’t want to read it! Believe me…”
“Sure, I suppose so…”
“It was a love letter. So straightforward and passionate. I never would have the courage to say or write something like this to a man.”
“I know, because you lack self-confidence.”
“It’s true. I would like to learn how to be more confident, less worried about everything. Is there a secret for this?”
“Yes! Just live in the present. Take what life gives and try to relax!”
I adored Emma. She was always able to cheer me up… and she was often right, like this time. Yes, what did I have to lose? I lived in Milan, had a job in a prestigious agency and had a wonderful friend. I was lucky and I should repeat this to myself every day. I needed to trust myself in spite of Niccolò, Anna, Valentina and whomever future bad guy I might stumble upon…
“Thank you, Emma. Love you.”
“Love you too, Coco. Remember I will always be here for you.”
*
It was lunch time, but I wasn’t hungry at all. I couldn’t swallow a peanut! I decided to have a pineapple juice and just walk around the nearby neighbourhood. The city was full of people rushing, cars racing by, crowds waiting at bus stops, young people in line at counters in bars just to get a quick sandwich. It was so different from the relaxed Venetian pace.
While I was walking back to the office, I noticed an old couple sitting on a bench. He caressed her hand, while his wife smiled and talked animatedly. I stopped to look at them for a moment. They were beautiful. They looked like two adolescents. I wondered how long they had been together. I felt touched, and the tears I had to hold back all morning, gushed out. This was the kind of love I was looking for and maybe I would never find. I dried my eyes with a handkerchief and entered the office building. I went straight to the bathroom to fix my make-up and thought of Niccolò. What would he have thought seeing me like this? He, who imagined that I was so strong and determined? Then I realized I really had to stop thinking about him. Stop asking myself what he would think or what he would say… I had to forget him, cancel all thoughts of him. He loved another woman; never loved me. Let’s move on, Coco!
I needed to stop looking back at my disastrous past, stop obsessively analyzing my faults. I wanted to look ahead. If my karma was testing me, I wouldn’t give up. Was it asking me to organize wedding receptions? Well, I was ready for it. I will become the queen of wedding planners! I had cried enough. It was time to stop. Furthermore, crying makes you wrinkled and I couldn’t afford it. Nature gives you the face you have at twenty; it is up to you to merit the face you have at fifty. Another Mademoiselle Coco truth, and I wanted to get to fifty, beautiful and self-accomplished. I will make it.