Parisian Promises

Parisian Promises Read Free Page B

Book: Parisian Promises Read Free
Author: Cecilia Velástegui
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we’re typical loud, obnoxious Americans.”
    Lola laughed. “They’re staring at us ’cause they think we’re foxy. I mean, look at those guys over there, ogling us.”
    The compañeros smiled back sheepishly, and murmured to each other, changing their plan of attack. First, they would have to contact Jean-Michel and tell him that the knock-out redhead had spotted them. They slowly backed away, but Lola didn’t notice. She wasn’t paying them that much attention; that particular group of dark-haired guys seemed just ordinary and definitely not rich enough for her. Lola was out to catch someone exceptionally wealthy. Little did she know that the combined value of the discreet antique gold watches the compañeros wore were worth a fortune.
    â€œBesides,” Lola continued, “if you only knew about La Belle Otero, you would have to agree that she was a bitchin’ courtesan, the last of the grandes horizontales .”
    â€œ Grandes horizontales ?” hooted Annie. “You mean prostitutes …”
    â€œMistresses of men of rank!” Lola corrected.
    â€œOh, sorry! Really. I don’t believe the words ‘ grandes horizontales ’ will be on our quiz tomorrow. But please, go ahead and tell us all about your idol, La Belle Otero.”
    Once again, Lola was about to cast her red-headed fishing line in the direction of another handsome admirer, but at the last moment she noticed that he joined the line for a public bus, and she lost interest.
    â€œLet me tell you, ladies, La Belle Otero possessed an unrivaled awareness of men with deep wealth. Honestly, I have to ramp up my rich-guy detection skills.” Lola said this more for her own benefit than for her friends.
    â€œSo her name was Belle?” Karen asked.
    â€œHer real name was Carolina Otero,” Lola told her, nodding her head so emphatically her red curls bounced. “Nina to her friends. She lived from the late 1880s until the 1960s, and she always traveled in style. She even accompanied Wilhelm II, the German Kaiser, on his Imperial yacht. When she took her afternoon rides from her home right here, 27 Rue Pierre Charron, she rode like a queen in specially designed carriages–– never on putrid public transportation.” Lola pointed a manicured index finger accusatorily at the departing bus.
    Annie didn’t want to hear any additional trite details. “So what? Apparently, she was a prosperous prostitute and nothing else. What qualities did she possibly possess to make you, a twentieth-century woman with a college education, want to emulate her?”
    â€œThat’s precisely my point.” Lola beamed at her two friends. “Her tactics were universal and timeless. Think about it. La Belle Otero used her talent as a dancer at the Folies Bergère to catapult herself onto a much larger stage––the playing fields of the wealthiest aristocrats. They were more than glad to support her in the style to which they were accustomed. And she played one rich aristo against the other. Nina had so much money that she regularly lost hundreds of thousands of francs at the gaming tables throughout Europe, and all those lovelorn male admirers of hers picked up the tab. She was such a cunning fox! In total control of every aspect of her life. Don’t you think that’s impressive? Don’t you think her life was exciting?”
    Annie shook her head, but before she could say anything more, Karen jumped in to make the peace.
    â€œI get what Lola is saying.” Karen sounded almost wistful. “At least, I know where she’s coming from, where we’re both coming from. It’s an idée fixe for lots of us who come from humble roots. Not an obsession, exactly––more of a daydream or fantasy. We think that somehow our talents are going to be spotted and recognized and––hey presto, we’re rich and famous.”
    â€œYou want a

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