"La Merde" Chapter 3
Sunday, May 24, 2009, 6:20 PM
The Girl: Chantelle Paradis
The Outfit: Miu Miu silk dress, paired with Christian Louboutin peep-toe platforms , black YSL handbag, Sunshine & Shadow tie-dye silk scarf tied around the head, and finished with a pair of Linda Farrow gold-plated oversized sunglasses.
The Location: Tiffany's, New York
Date: Sunday, June 13 2008
"But Joooordaan," Chantelle whined like a little girl, "I want this one." She pointed at a gold bangle.
"But doesn't silver match your eyes more?" Jordan was about to give up.
"Yeah... but silver doesn't match my outfit as well," Chantelle looked over at Jordan and made her signature when-I-don't-get-what-I-want pout.
"Fine, fine." Jordan caved. He handed his credit card to the impatient grey-haired man who smiled as he grabbed the thin metallic object out of Jordan's strong grip.
"Thank you thank you thank you!!!" Chantelle jumped up and down and embraced her fiancee.
Jordan couldn't do anything but chuckle and kiss her on her forehead.
"Here you go miss," the salesman handed Chantelle the famous Tiffany blue bag with her gold bangle safely protected inside within a Tiffany blue box tied with white ribbon.
"Thanks," Chantelle squeaked as she frolicked out the doors.
"How old is that girl? Is she even ready to get married?" Was what Chantelle would have overhead from the employees, but she was too busy humming her own made up melody.
"So where to now?" Jordan's mint breath tickled Chantelle's ear. His tight arms wrapped around her waist.
Chantelle twisted her head to face Jordan. "I think I have an appointment in about an hour so I'll need to head back, and that'll last about two hours..." she was calculating the time in her brain, "so that'll end around four thirty... and then I'm meeting Emma to finalize the wedding plans, that will last about an hour or two... and then I guess we'll freshen up for dinner with the group!" Chantelle finished.
Jordan sighed, "Alrighty then, I'll probably go hit the gym and shoot some hoops with the guys. I'll be back around five to go over the plans with you and Emma." Jordan grinned.
Chantelle pressed her right hand against his left cheek and got on her tip toes to kiss him. After a few seconds, their towncar arrived, and Alfred opened the doors for them. "Bonjour mademoiselle et monsier."
Chantelle blushed. She thought of how in about a month, she would be Madame Dais.
"Bonjour Alfred, a la maison!" Jordan said in a thick American accent as they got in.
"What?" Jordan smiled and tickled Chantelle.
"Stoooop! Hahahahahahah!" She tried to grab Jordan's hands but he was too strong for her. "No no, I can't breathe," she gasped for air.
"If I stop will you do it with me?" Jordan asked quietly.
Chantelle's smile quickly faded. She ripped his hands away from her waist and sat up straight. She put her bag on her lap and looked out the window.
Jordan gave a frustrated sigh. "I'm sorry." He grabbed her hand, but she pulled it away. "I was just joking." Jordan knew it was the lamest excuse but it was partially true.
"We've already had this conversation and I don't appreciate you bringing it up again, and in this car out of all places!" Chantelle had turned to face him, her teeth clenched, seething.
"So you'd be okay if we had this conversation in someone else's car?" Jordan joked.
Chantelle fumed. "Oh ha, ha. You're so funny." The words were dripping with sarcasm.
"Look, I'm a guy, I don't want to wait. Why do we have to be all traditional? Why can't we do it now?"
"Do you not know how much this means to me? Do you know this tradition," she made quotes around the word tradition, "has been in the family forever?"
"So did your dad break the tradition by having your sister with another woman?"
"Half-sister," she corrected him, "and he's a mitch. Why'd you have to bring that up anyway?" Chantelle started sobbing. Black tears were dripping down her cheeks.
"I'm sorry Telly," Jordan scooted next to her, and held her head to his chest. He rubbed her back and rested his chin on top of her head as he continued apologizing for bringing up the sensitive subject.
Chantelle wiped her tears away, lifted her head up from his chest, grabbed the mirror out of her bag to check her reflection. "There's no need to apologize. There's alway some truth in criticism." She said tonelessly.
"I wasn't critisizing!" Jordan was becoming agitated.
"Oh you weren't? Making fun of my values and my family's tradition?"
"I was just," he let out another frustated sigh, "nevermind. I respect your decision to wait until after marriage." He put on a fake smile.
"Well thank you." Chantelle finished. The couple sat on opposite sides of the invisible brick wall they had put up.