Stop Five: More shoes.
Six-inch Louboutins. A strappy black Versace heel. A pair of pink Pradas I swore I wouldn’t put on once I walked out of the store (but I lied).
€38,900.
As I passed Hermès, I spotted a gorgeous Faubourg Joaillerie watch.
Swiss-made, diamond-set white gold dial with pink sapphires.
And I fucking needed it. Let’s call this stop number six.
“Excuse me,” I asked the lady at the desk. “Is the watch in the window for sale?”
She looked me up and down and puckered her lips. “That watch has a waitlist. And it’s sixty-five thousand euros.”
Oh, I didn’t like the way she looked at me.
“Hm,” I tapped Theo’s card on the counter as I pretended to mull it over. “Waitlist, huh? How disappointing.”
Her eyes glowed when she saw that black steel I tossed around casually.
“Well,” she grinned when she realized her mistake. “Maybe we can work something out!”
Too late.
“No, that’s okay. I wouldn’t want to upset your other clients. Thanks for your time!”
And I turned and walked out before she could reply.
Bitch.
I shook off the lingering feeling and held my head high at my other victories.
€110,750.
Spent in under five hours.
Not bad.
Last Stop (And this one’s a freebie): Lunch.
A rooftop restaurant overlooking the coast, with a linen napkin on my lap and my phone facedown beside an expensive bottle of cold rosé. I ordered grilled octopus, truffle risotto, and a side of bread I didn’t even touch.
€625.
I sat alone at a table set for two. And somehow, that hurt more than the empty bed.
From my purse, I pulled out my camcorder, the one I’d carried since I landed. The lens cap was long gone, and the record button stuck sometimes, but it still worked. I flipped it open andaimed it at myself, angling to catch the terrace behind me, where the breeze gently moved the trees.
“First day!” I said, smiling a little for the camera. “Solo lunch because Theo’s working.”
I shrugged. It wasn’t meant to be an accusation.
“He’s got a lot going on. Can’t expect him to stop working cause I’m here, right?” I paused, feeling the dread in my throat as the lies I fed myself left a sickening aftertaste. Shaking that off with a cleared throat, I lifted my glass in a mock toast. “So, to responsibilities!”
Random Voice: And loneliness.
Please. Just go away. Can’t you see I’m ignoring you?
