Chapter 3 - Something Unexpected

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Chapter 3 - Something Unexpected

For a moment I thought it was going to be like in the movies, where you bump into someone and it turns out to be a hunk of a guy. ‘God, that would’ve been so cliche.’ Still, it would’ve been interesting... 

“Good afternoon Miss. Nesteltton,” Henry, the doorman at the  HÔTEL DE PARIS said with a kind smile. 

“Bonjour Henry, comment ça va aujourd'hui?” (Hello Henry, how are you today?) I asked, with the best smile I could muster. No. Wait. I’m a new woman now, remember. I should be able to mask my emotions, and allow people to think what they want to. See, most people only ask how you are, out of politeness. Me, on the other hand, I’m quite genuinely interested - as long as it’s somebody I like, and not some snobby, human manipulator, that cannot do anything for themselves. Agh. I hate people like that.

(QUE MUSIC ->)

Therefore, in a split second, I took a deep breath and felt my stature change and a bright smile appear on my face - why should I reflect my damaged mood onto Amelia’s brilliant doorman?!

“Je suis très bien, merci.” Henry informed me, stating that he is ‘very well’. I smile again; trust him to be ‘very well’. Is there ever a time that he isn’t? And as if on cue, an even wider shouldered, bulky man, in an expensive, 3-piece suit walks out of a black, tinted Range Rover. ‘Ooo, how patronizing’ I thought sarcastically. I smirked and looked back to Henry. He shuffled uncomfortably, and I frowned. ‘Huh, this is odd.’

“Good afternoon Sir.” He says to the ogre like fellow, now standing in front of him. The man just grunts and tells Henry to take the ‘bosses’ luggage. Hmm, this dude must be important if he has such a strange looking, suited man on his side - he’s probably a body guard, but from my splendid knowledge of what type of cars important people travel in, I doubt that the body guard is for him; plus, the person would be seated in that Range Rover at this moment,right??

I decide to leave Henry to it, but only after slyly inserting 10 euros into his jacket pocket. ‘I bet he’s going to smile when he sees it... And he’ll probably guess it was from me. After all, I am the one that gives him 10 or more euros every time I see him.’

For only the fourth time in my life, I am yet again standing in the most exquisite lobby of a hotel, that I have seen so far, in my pretty boring and controlled life. Yes, my parents may be rich and attend balls and shizzle, but that doesn’t mean I did. I was always forced to, but I somehow managed to either come up with an excuse, or escape before I entered the venue. 

I always make sure to admire the beauty that was created by very talented craftsmen. I make sure to remember that it wasn’t always here, and it can - most likely - never be repeated. It is original. A classic. Something to cherish every time you see it or set foot on it. Although, the sad thing is that some people don’t give a toss how things/places are made or designed. As long as it looks good with one glance, they want it, r they want to be there. Sad, huh.

I started walking to the main desk, but just before I reached it I noticed a woman standing by the rather large staircase, tapping her foot. I know it must sound strange as it is a hotel and all; but this woman was different. She seemed sure of herself, yet impatient. To be honest she was facing away from me, so I couldn't be sure if it was actually a girl or mature woman.

From head to toe, I studied her. Every angle, every curve. (And don’t even think about saying I’m weird - I prefer the term ‘mentally hilarious, but that’s only for people I am close to). I observe. Meaning I survey people; their clothes, hair, accessories, behaviour and people they may be with. But as I said before, this woman was different, and I couldn’t put my finger on what was bugging me about her.

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