How To Get Over A Man

9: Not A Burning House.

"I don't understand why you're withdrawing."

"It's not in my position to say Miss Bronté. I'm only required to let you know of our current standing."

"Something must have gone wrong. Don't you think I have the right to know? Perhaps a misunderstanding I can clear."

Antoinette shook her head exasperatingly, her forehead slightly furrowed. "I only do as I'm instructed. If you want answers, I suggest you talk to Madam Sylvaine herself."

"Then set up a meeting for me with her. What about tomorrow?"

"I'm afraid Madam Sylvaine will not able to attend to extra appointments tomorrow. As you know, she's quite busy preparing for her show."

"What about the next?"

Antoinette shook her head. "I can't guarantee anything. My honest advice will be after the event as Madam Sylvaine is likely to be up and about prior to that. One moment she's in Spain and another moment she's in Paris. I wouldn't want you to waste your time flying over and getting disappointed."

"What about a video call or a regular call? I want to talk to her directly and it will only be a few minutes."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Antoinette rose to her feet and flicked her wristwatch in that manner that communicated her desire to leave. Her tone turned serious. "I have to leave now Miss Bronté. Do enjoy the rest of your day."

The chaotic clatter of ceramic and stainless steel jerked Amelia out of her recalling thoughts. She straightened into a more upright position on her chair as she watched a meek-looking lanky young waiter apologize incessantly to the guest he was serving as he picked up the plates and pieces of food off the floor.

Amelia watched without a pinch of interest for a few more seconds before turning her gaze to the door. Chantal was running late. And she was in no mood for dinner. She picked up her glass of wine and took a sip, eyes lighting up when the door of the restaurant opened and Chantal walked in dressed in a denim outfit.

"Girl, I'm sorry. Outside is-" she blew a whopping breath and fanned herself with one hand. "Nasty traffic, almost bashed my car but nothing is going to stand against our eat-en-chat every good Wednesday." Chantal added a splitting grin and signalled in a waiter at the immediate sight of one.

"I also happen to be starving. My new wall-eyed director is a actual bitch and it's only her first day." Chantal didn't need to look at the menu, she had her desired good on mind. Barbecued Turkey sticks and pasta with spicy Italian sauce.

"Ma'am?" The waiter turned to Amelia whose melancholic demeanour hadn't improved one bit. She gave her order. A plate of Chicken Alfredo.

Amelia's gloomy mood didn't go unnoticed by Chantal who started to question it the moment the waiter was out of earshot.

"Why are you as cold as a dog nose? Did something happen at work?" Chantal leaned forward towards Amelia and peered at her in concern, her eyebrow curved upward as we awaited a response.

Amelia shook her head sideways as she poured her friend a glass. "Nothing you should worry about."

"No way am I going to sit down with sadness personified and try to have dinner with it. Did Kamari fo something wrong?"

At the mention of Kamari, Amelia's brows jutted towards each other furiously and some colour rushed vsvk to her get face. "Why would my personal assistant of all persons be the reason I'm disturbed?"

"I don't know, maybe he spilled coffee..." Chantal shrugged.

"They would have been dealt with instantly."