literature

Lourdes of Loki 14 - Of bitches and bimbos

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I felt like such a noob walking down that street with all the fancy shops where the all clothes had at least one zero added to what you'd expect be the normal price for an outfit. Then again, I had Grace Milton with me, and she was like grown up in this street. She knew it all and then some. She knew which shops were fakes (and where you really could get better stuff over at The Gap or H&M down at the mall) and she knew which were real, and where you could get a creation which sure would make those who 'knew' things turning their heads after you.

And I sure needed one of those creations. Or as I told Grace:
"I might only do this once in my life, so when I do it, it's gotta be real!"
"You will do it more than once, Lourdes," my friend reassured me. "After all you're too modest, lass. I know you are making tons of money, after all everybody is talking about you these days. And since I took your shot, so many people have pointed out how great I look these days. It's like you're working magic, dear."
"Oh, well, it's not that hard – these days," I blushed slightly. "But you should've seen me during my academy years. Dressed second hand and eating noodles and tuna from cans."

"I can imagine, haven't we all been there, done that. Save for those who were born with rich parents that is."
"Well, not all of them have gotten everything they've been pointing at," I replied with a shrug, not bothering with evaluating.

Then Grace had taken me to two different places without me finding what I was looking for. But at the third place I'd better luck. There I had bought a dress which was daring yet modest, different yet classic and which was sure going to attract attention. At least according to Grace, and I trusted her.
"I mean even the bag you carry out from here will attract attention. Now for the shoes..."

Then the pattern had been repeating itself, only with 3 shoe stores before I in store no 4 found what I was looking for. And it was also there we ran into the bitches. Yes, Vivek the latex bitch was out putting Beverly Hills at hazard. And she was followed by an equally annoying lass, however this one seemed more like Vivek's half-wit sidekick than anything else.

"Oh, no! Nicole!" Grace sighed and tried to pull me in the opposite direction, to somewhat try to sneak us away unnoticed. In vain. It was as if Vivek had some kind of radar applied, because she turned around, putting back the white high-heelers she had been looking at and turned to face us.
"Well, hello, Grace," she said, her  voice dripping of honey, although there was poison mixed in that honey if you listened close enough. "So what are you doing out with the frog girl?"

"So you're out to insult my French origin, Vivek," I snide before Grace or anyone else could say anything else. "I guess more originality was not to expect from someone like you."
"At least I'm not a fatto making my living from spraying poison into people's cheeks and skimming them of money," Vivek responded, and I took a look at her latex-dressed appearance and smirked. Now that treat I couldn't pass on.
"No, you split that toothpicks you have where others have legs to make a living."

"What do you mean 'toothpicks'?" Vivek's equally skinny friend was asking, seemingly at loss.
"That's a bit over your head, I know, Nicole," Grace replied. "But don't you worry about that, you can always go home and Google the words you don't understand when your betters are speaking."

I giggled, obviously Grace knew the noble art of trading insults as well. I also noted that a few other customers had stopped their shoe-scrutinizing and were now listening in. Free reality theatre, now that wasn't every day you got that. Not even in the Beverly Hills.  
"Would you refrain from insulting Nicole!" Vivek sneered in disgust. As if the broad couldn't answer for herself.
"Or what?" Grace asked, "You gonna hit me in the head with those ugly platforms you were just eyeing?"
"Yeah," Vivek took a stance she probably thought was threatening. "Why not. Although your head wouldn't be that big a loss."

"Actually," I said. "If I was you, Grace, I wouldn't worry too much about that threat. After all, she has none of her orcs with her today. Or perhaps she just brings them when she's gonna try to intimidate her ex-boyfriends."
"No, I guess she felt Nicole was enough in this case," Grace smirked.
"Who exactly are you calling an orc?" Nicole squeaked and balled her fists.

"Grace, this is getting predictable." I said and tucked my arm beneath my friend's ditto and turned towards the exit, glad we had already paid for my shoes. "Now, we have more shopping to do, so no more time for these stick girls. So todiloo to you, Vivek and Nicole." I fluttered my fingers sarcastically. "And say hi to the orcs from me!"  

However the latex bitch was not giving in that easily. She reached for Grace, who was closest to her, but my friend managed to dash to the side.
"Will you bother telling me why you're siding with her?" she asked and Grace shot her a cold stare.
"All right, ex-change!" she said, let go of me and turned to face Vivek again. "You tell me why you keep bitching at Ezra and Valdo and I'll tell you why I hang with Lourdes!"
"Fine," Vivek's voice turned shrill. "Because they've been constantly defending Sean, when everybody knows..."

She didn't get further though, because a woman of the shop personnel came up to her and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Mrs. I will have to ask you to leave, and conduct your quarrels elsewhere,"  then she shifted her looks to me and Grace. "And that goes for you too, miladies."
"Fine by us," I replied politely. "We were leaving anyway." And as that idiot Vivek started to argue with the shop woman Grace and I more or less dashed for the door and sat out down the street, heading for a handbag shop a bit away.  

"Whew!" Grace breathed out. "Now what is the matter with that woman really?"
"Beats me," I shrugged. "I encountered her the first time at your party last month. I never really talked to her, but apparently she and Ezra had some bones to pick, because Ezra let me know what she thought about Vivek. I didn't care that much bach then, but later on Gaetania and I met Ezra, Valdo and Sean down at the beach. Then we encounter Nicole and her, well, entourage of orcs. And let's just say we hit it off bad. Mostly because Gae and I were there with Ezra and her buddies. Has she – always been like this? Picking on people, I mean."

"Not from the start," Grace replied. "But it seldom takes that long before she clashes with people. It's usually over some minor thing, like people getting in the way or being what she consider pushy or siding against her. Then she starts bitching about it, and she's like – she can't let go. And to other people it gets old rather soon. So they keep cutting her out. Tire of her. Like Ezra and her friends. Or Lucia. You met her?"
"Briefly," I shrugged as I recalled that mulatto girl Vivek had fought with at Grace and Bertrand's party. "We talked for a few minutes at Sean's Halloween party too. But she was leaving with some guy while I and Gae just got there."

"Yes, you were kind of late, what did happen? I did hear something about a neighbor but I don't recall what the drama really was about."
"It probably sounds like we are attracting troubles like a pile of shit are attracting flies, Gaetania and I," I said, not without sarcasm. "But it was our wacko neighbor who seemed to have made up his mind that I had ruined his life, and that it was payback time. So he attacked us with some kind of acid. And Malcolm had to save my ass. Ironically we hired him mostly because Waldo was worried about Vivek's thugs. That they would try to get even with us after the brawl at the beach the other week. Perhaps Waldo was over reacting, I don't know. We haven't even seen the thickheads since. What I do know though is that hadn't Malcolm been around that evening, my face would have been ruined being beyond what I would've been able to repair.  How ironic, a cosmetic surgeon with a ruined face, huh?"

Grace laughed at that and then she had to say she was sorry and I replied that my gallows humour might have that effect.
"Something that runs in the family," I explained. "You should hear my dad at time. He could scare off a hell hound just by cracking sick jokes."
"Guess we should avoid introducing him to Vivek then," Grace replied as we entered the shop we had in mind.
"Sounds like a great idea," I replied and then even I had to shut up, because in here were so many handbags it would be enough for a whole season of Sex and the City. In the end I had to get two of them, and it did feel like an excess. On the other hand, Grace had been right, I could afford it. And luckily for us we didn't see Vivek and her stupid side kick anymore. It seemed as if they had either tired or lost us. (And taking their combined brain capacity in mind, the latter wouldn't surprise me at all.)

***

"Malcolm," I asked as I placed the cups of tea on the meal table. "I have a different kind of assignment for you, if you are interested."
"What?" Our body guard asked.
"I want you to try and track down a person for me," I said and slid the photo over the desk. As Malcolm picked it up I once again told the sad story about Destiny Laufeyson, my mother, hoping that he would have better luck then the other private investigator in finding her.

Malcolm held the photo for a while, as if he was a psychic and hoped it would start talking to his extra sensory perception. Then he put it down on the table, asking just the same thing as the other detective.
"You don't have any newer?"
"Unfortunately not. Since I... well since this person got lost all those years ago. And she's..."

He was very sensitive, Malcolm. He felt it already there and placed one comforting hand on my shoulder.
"Lourdes," he said, his voice soothing. "This woman did mean a lot to you, didn't she?"
"Um, yeah," I had to admit as I nodded my head.
"Who was she? Actually, you don't have to tell, but it might help if you do. Both your own wellbeing and my work."
"How may it get easier if..."
"If I encounter her, I might know if I should approach her or not."

"Malc..." I began and then I picked a paper napkin out of the box and I was actually dabbing my eyes and blowing my nose. I had not expected such kindness from the big guy. Or such an intense reaction from myself. "Malcolm, she was.. is... well I... she's my mother. She left me when I was a babe. I have no memories of her whatsoever. I grew up with my dad. And a row of nannies. These pictures is the only thing I have."
"And you're sure you want me to find her?"
"I'm asking for it, right!"

"But if you're disappointed. What if I find that she's – well death. Or worse. Like in not wanting anything to do with you. After all you must take that possibility in mind. There was a reason for her leaving after all."
"Malcolm, I'd rather have her rejection in my face. Or learning that she has passed away. Anything but this insecurity."
"I'll see what I can do," Malcolm replied, resting with his hand upon my shoulder.    

The next moment we were cut off by a slam in the door and then Gaetania's voice.
"Darn that dentist! Not only does he have to hurt you, he charge your ass of for it as well."

Then that almost special moment was gone. Malcolm took the picture copy and put it in his jacket pocket with the words:
"I'll see what I can do."
Part 1 - 13 found in my gallery
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