La Vie En Rose

“Was he good? How many positions did you do? HOW LONG WAS HIS-”

“Lola!” I practically shouted into the phone. “I am most definitely not telling you that.”

“Come on, I’m your sister, you should be able to share things like this with me.” She continued to harass me. “And if he’s anything like Ross, then we should give ourselves a pat on the backs for nabbing brothers with such large-”

“Stop! Please? I’m begging you.” The last thing I wanted to imagine was Lola and Ross ‘fooling’ around.

It’s been four days since John gave me a surprised visit. It’s also been rough since I dropped him off at the airport but I’ve managed to keep myself busy since his departing. In the past couple of days, Sharon has managed to find a venue for the show, made a list of possible VIPs who will be in attendance, alerting the media and schedule interviews with a various amount of magazines and photo shoots.

The stress was particularly weighing down on me today so I bought bath salts at Bath & Bodyworks, lit a lavender candle, dipped into the bath and called Lola for some updates on the wedding our mother was planning.

“Mom’s going mad, G.” Lola complained as I mindlessly played with the bubbles in front of me. “She’s hired a wedding planner so everything has been wedding-related. I’m telling ya, it’s making me go crazy.”

According to Lola, mom and Tim were planning to have the wedding in the first week of June and the location of it all will be on a beach in Los Angeles. I wasn’t surprised that my mother came up with the idea; she always had an unhealthy obsession for California ever since she got hooked on The O.C.

“Anyways, I have cheerleading practice in an hour.” Lola sighed. “Miss you more than anything, G. It’s so quiet around here now that the boys are gone too. Ross and I don’t know what to do with ourselves.”

“Miss you too, sis” I weakly smiled. “I’ll see you in May. You’re still coming to my fashion show, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, bitch!” She laughed. “Gotta peace. Love you!”

Before I could even say ‘goodbye’ she hung up. I rolled my eyes and threw my phone on top of the folded towels. Lola is always a mess.

After a couple of more minutes in the bath, the water started turning luke-warm so I unplugged the bath water, hopped out and changed into my Victoria Secret sweats and a loose shirt. As I tied my hair up into a messy bun, the soft sounds of metal pans and plates hitting counter in the kitchen could be heard. It was Tuesday night, meaning Alma was making dinner and a new episode of 90210 was almost on. I quickly grabbed my laptop and happily walked out into the kitchen and living room area.

“Smells good in here! What are you cooking?” I smiled at Alma as I hopped up on one of the stools and set up my computer at the breakfast bar.

“Steak and mash potatoes.” Alma said as she pushed a plate in my direction.

“Mmmm!” I exclaimed excitedly, instantly scooping up the fluffy mash potatoes. With my mouth full, I added. “You should become a chief, Alma. This is delicious!”

Alma laughed, grabbing her plate and sitting opposite me with her cutlery in one hand and the tv remote in the other. “You are welcome. Do you have any homework tonight?”

As Alma switched to the 90210 episode, I opened my emails while stuffing my face with spoonfuls of the buttery potatoes. “I have a little, but none due tomorrow, I think I just have to...”

I drifted. While skimming my new email, a certain e-mail address, ‘karl@chanel.com’ was among the new messages. At first, I assumed it was just junk mail from a fashion website I signed up to and was about to drag it to the junk folder when the subject title caught my eye. I raised an eyebrow and hastily opened it.

From: karl@chanel.com
Subject: Paris Fashion Week

Dear Gigi King,

Let me be one of many, I am sure, to praise your recent successes in the fashion industry. I will admit, I have been watching you for a while now. For a young lady, you have quite the prowess and adeptness with fabrics and the way you construct them is just marvelous. I find you to be a fine example of diligentness and a great inspiration for young, american women.

I’ll keep this short and sweet for I am sure you are a busy woman, but you inspire me. There is nothing I find more appealing and fascinating than how american women dress and see clothing. I’m sure you are aware of Paris fashion week is vastly approaching and I would like nothing more than to have you sit front row at my Summer line fashion show. Just say the word, and I’ll have my assistant book you a first class seat to Paris. She will book you a wonderful suite at the finest hotel in the heart of the beautiful city-

I wasn’t able to finish reading the email because before I knew it, I let out an ear-piercing scream and managed to topple out of my chair.

“Jesus, Gigi!” Alma’s eyes were wide with alarm. “What happened? What’s wrong!?”

“I can’t!” I yelled, throwing my hands up to cover my eyes. “I-I-I”

I jumped up and started shrieking again. Alma sat there in shock, watching me have a fit.

“Are you...having a mental breakdown?” Alma tried to ask calmly.

“KARL LAGERFELD.” I managed to form words...loudly. “HAS INVITED ME TO PARIS FASHION WEEK.”

“WHAT?” She finally yelled back. I ferociously pointed at my laptop making Alma instantly jump out of her chair and skim the screen. Several moments later, she shrieked as loudly as I did earlier. “Oh my God, Gigi, this is...this is AMAZING!! You have to go. You HAVE to.”

“I’m calling Sharon right now!” I exclaimed, sprinting into my bedroom and fetching my phone. I couldn’t believe this. The designer of Chanel found me to be an inspiration and wanted me to attend his fashion show. My heart was pounding against my chest and I was feeling so beyond light headed, I probably should of been concerned but I was way pass excited at this point.

Once I located my phone, I pressed the speed dial and speed-walked back out into the living room while I waited for Sharon to answer.

“Oh my gosh, Sharon is going to DIE when I tell her about this.” I grinned, jumping up and down once again.

“Uh Gigi....there’s a slight problem.” Alma was re-reading the e-mail before hesitating to turn towards me.

“What?” I asked. There couldn’t be that big of a problem. Karl offered for me only to stay for a week. I could miss class for a week, it would be easy to catch up. And it’s not like I have to pay for my airplane ticket and hotel since he offered to pay for all of it so it’s not like I’m spending a copious amount of money.

“Paris Fashion Week...” She said slowly. “it’s the same week that The Maine are in town.”

I stayed silent, starring at Alma. I didn’t even open my mouth when I heard Sharon on the other line saying, ‘Hello? Gigi? Hellooooo? Did you buttdial me again?’

I lowered the phone from my ear slowly. This proposed a big problem indeed.