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For the Love of Men and Money

And the power found deep inside every woman.

By Suzy GilbertPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
4
Photo by MR WONG on Unsplash

Madison stares aggressively at the young brunette bitch-barista who shamelessly and playfully poses for a handsome man with a camera. She comes to this café with the awful service every day for the same reason the bitch-barista was distracted- the beautiful Parisian men.

“Apologies, blondé. Your croissant!”

“You mean blondie?”

She shrugs and carelessly lets the dishes slide onto the table.

“My name is Madison.” She says unsmiling, moving her Birkin bag to the chair beside her.

“I’m Sophie.” Her eyes rest on the empty chair. “Alone again today I see?”

“You don’t need a date when you have a Birkin.”

Sophie laughs. “It screams ‘desperate rich housewife.’ But I guess in your case, just desperate and rich. Men here like natural, easy-going women.”

“Well if you weren’t so easy they’d be able to notice the sophisticated, fashion-forward women, like me.”

“Ha! Your style screams stupid frigid American, not sexy.”

Madison sits tall and poised, sipping her espresso. She has nowhere else to go. She is in no rush to wander the Paris streets alone on her 366th day in the city of love.

That night, alone in bed, she pictures all the beautiful men seen throughout her search for love and envisions her, a baby, and a husband to take care of them.

“What does she have that I don’t? It must be the location, conveniently serving wine and conversation to attractive young men.” Madison wonders, ”I’m just as pretty, if not more than that little tramp. And I’m rich!”

Madison tosses in bed all night stewing on her loneliness and hatred for Sophie, scheming up ideas to get rid of Sophie. Images of poison and throwing scalding hot water in Sophie’s face flash before her eyes. Madison drifts off to sleep, wishful to wake with a plan.

“Blondé! All alone again? How sad,” she winks at Madison. “What will it be?” Sophie pulls out the little black notebook she carries with her to write orders down but in reality, the pages are filled with names and phone numbers of some of the most beautiful men and women in Paris. “A triple espresso and a croissant?”

“No, I’d like your job.”

Sophie laughs.

“I’ll give you $20,000 for you to quit the café for one month and let me work in your place. I’ve extended my trip and this is what I want. Take it, it’s nothing.” Madison puts a thick brown envelope down on the counter.

“Oh, I see, you think working here will get you laid! Well as long as the money isn’t determined upon getting someone in bed…”

“Haha. No. So?”

“I guess you might need this”, Sophie says, handing the notebook to Madison, “to take orders with.”

“Or numbers,” Madison snatches up the book and holds it to her heart. “Thank you.”

“You’re thanking me? You just gave me $20,000!”

“Pennies. When do I start?”

“Now!” Sophie unties her apron and gives it to Madison. “Take my scarf too, maybe it’ll give you the Parisienne style you desperately need.” Sophie ties it carefully around Madison’s neck. “Voila! Gerald, I quit! Meet Madison, your new barista.”

Before Madison could adjust or remove the scarf, Sophie was out the door and Gerald was barking orders at her.

At home, Sophie sets aside 2 months' worth of expenses. There’s no way she’s going back to living paycheque to paycheque as a barista. Determined to find purpose and meaning again, she leafs through old journals, polaroids, sketches, and pages of her mismatched collection of textbooks for inspiration, but all she gets is a tight pain in her chest. A pile of memorabilia forms on her desk, a shrine to all her past selves.

Overwhelmed, she calls Taylor, her most recent fling.

“A mid-morning booty call? Lucky me.”

“What? No, Tay, I just need to talk. I’m such a mess.” Her voice cracks. “You know how-”

“I’ll be in your bed in an hour.”

“Stop. I’m trying to talk.”

“See you soon.”

“Forget it, whore!”

Sophie throws her phone, knocking over the shrine, and jumps at the sight of her angry, desperate face in the mirror. She snatches up the envelope of cash and marches out the door.

Madison playfully fingers the soft silk scarf around her neck as she waits on the handsome new regular, Mattieu.

“Excuse me? Hello?” He waves his hand in front of Madison’s face.

“Oh! sorry, can you repeat that?”

“Can you tell me about the special again?”

“One special coming right up! Another glass of wine, Matty?” She winks as she picks up his empty glass, spinning around to send in his order. She returns to his table with another full glass of wine.

“That special better be delicious, and the wine free. You know people usually like to order for themselves at a restaurant, right?” Mattieu says.

“I’m new around here. The wine’s on me, but what do I get in return?” Madison giggles and holds the little black notebook up to her cleavage.

“If you’re new, how about a friendly dinner?”

“I’d love to! I’ll give you my number.” Madison writes her name and number in big swirly letters. She makes a big show of ripping out the page, kissing it with her bright red-painted lips. Yet, she accidentally inhales too deeply and chokes on the page.

“Mon Dieux!”

Matthieu gives her the Heimlich maneuver, the thrusting and pumping turn Madison’s face beet red. Later that evening, determined to have her first date in Paris end in a shot at love, she puts on the most tantalizing lingerie she can find, her tallest Louboutins, and a silk trench coat.

“Madi! So glad you could make it, meet my-”

Before he can say another word or gesture to his boyfriend Antoni, Madison flings open her trench coat and hurls her red wine-stained lips towards Mattieu’s face.

“Jesus! Madison! What are you doing?” Pushing her off, Madison tumbles into Antoni, trips over her heels, and in an attempt to catch herself drags Antoni down with her.

“You’re gay?!” Madison sobs.

On a walk fueled by rage, Sophie finds herself outside the doors of Pauline Fraisse, the art school she used to attend.

Inside, she wanders the halls, stealing glances of paintings, canvases, photographs, screens, clay, lights, and other materials. She thinks of Nicolette, her last great love, the painting instructor who gave her the top spot in their annual art show. She remembers overhearing Nicolette talking at the show about how their sex was so good that she had to feature her work, despite it being average and boring.

Distracted on her walk down memory lane, she ends up in front of the office and impulsively signs up for a mixed media class. Over the next few weeks, she takes self-portraits, sculpts small clay objects, collages, paints, writes, records and designs a collection of installations, not unlike the shrine she unintentionally erected.

Her piece “Anger” gets her a solo gallery show. “Anger” drew you in with its pulsing deep red light, a large black and white photo of her sitting alone in the dark, with a fire burning behind her and through her eyes. Little red, black, and gold objects surround the print. A paintbrush, money, condoms, a heart-shaped locket, a little black book, pictures of old lovers, and other symbols of anger in her life. Headphones dangle from above and when pulled close to your ear, you could hear the sobs, cries, screams, and laughs of Sophie.

Sophie feels the best she has in years and spends every waking hour preparing her show titled 'A Woman’s Power.' Her exhibit fills the gallery with installations featuring Fear, Anger, Sadness, Love, Joy, and Peace.

Mattieu chuckles admirably at Madi trying too hard with the hottie at the end of the bar. She was laying it on thick and as usual, she was having no luck.

“Is it love?” Mattieu laughs as Madi leans across the counter towards him, drawing in her little black notebook.

Madis shakes her head and sighs. “What do you think of this layout for the lounge?” she holds open the notebook and pushes them towards Mattieu.

“I think it’s great- listen, the only room I care about is the kitchen and the art on the walls. You can decide everything else as long as I’m always your head chef.”

“I can’t wait to open! I’ve never been this excited about a job before!”

“Quit pretending as if you’ve ever had a job before this.”

Mattieu and Madi laugh, clinking glasses.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Sophie walks up to the bar counter and puts her arms around them.

“Oh, nothing, just planning the café & lounge we’re opening next month!”

“Incroyable! I’ll be there with bells on! Speaking of openings,” Sophie pulls out a small page, one like the pages from the small black notebook she used to write phone numbers in and hands it to Madi.

It’s an invitation to Sophie’s solo show, “A Woman’s Power.”

“Madison, tell me you’ll come! I owe it all to you.”

“Call me Madi, I don’t know, we’re pretty busy with this…”

Mattieu jumps in, “We’ll be there.”

“So Madi, how long have you and Mattieu been dating?” Sophie asks the pair at the gallery.

“Oh almost a month ago, right around when I got your job, isn’t that a funny coincidence?”

“Oh really?”

“Oh yes,” says Mattieu nodding along.

“Well Mattieu, I’m sad to see you do this to Antoni.”

“Oh- shit. I was just playing along,” Mattieu laughs nervously. “I’ll be over here, admiring your work.”

Madi spends the entire evening enamored with each installation, every emotion stirring up deep feelings she rarely paid attention to. Each emotion stares at her head-on, forcing her to get real with the woman inside her. She watches Sophie charm the crowd and figures if someone as strong and beautiful as her could face reality and be successful, maybe she could too.

The last one to leave the gallery, Madi heads home full of fantasies starring her new restaurant and dreams of finally finding a mate to share it with.

The next day, Madi returns to the gallery, needing another look at A Woman’s Power.

“How’d it go with that guy you told me about?” Sophie startles Madi looking longingly at the “Love” shrine.

Madi looks up at Sophie with tears in her eyes. “Rejected. Again. When will it be my turn to find love?”

Sophie puts her arm around Madi. “It’ll happen when it’s right. You haven’t met the right one yet.” Sophie pauses, absorbing Madi’s desperation. “And all that other crap I’m supposed to say. Come on, let’s get a drink.”

The next night, Madi couldn’t close the café fast enough, dying to make it to the gallery on time to see Anger once again.

“When will I find love? Am I unlovable? Am I meant to be alone?” These questions roll around in her head after being rejected by two different men at the bar last night and another full day of unreceptive flirting at the café.

At the gallery, she sits face to face with her ugly reality, Anger. She cries, holding her head in her hands. She feels someone sit beside her who is also crying.

“Why are you crying Blondé?” Sophie asks.

“I’m unloveable! I’m unfuckable! I must be cursed.”

“Ha! Fuckable is a curse. I want to be in love. Real love with someone I can be myself with. Even after this exhibit, I’m wanted only for sex!”

They fall into each other's arms, comforted by each other’s sadness. Their tears slow down and their eyes meet, recognizing something warm, kind, and familiar. Madi gives into the feelings deep inside her body, overwhelmed with the emotions the exhibit brought to the surface and her surprising feelings for Sophie. Their bodies draw together like a pair of magnets, kissing each other’s lips, face, and neck. They undress and make love.

dating
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About the Creator

Suzy Gilbert

A critical thinker, an imaginative problem-solver, and at times, a hopeless romantic.

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