FEBRUARY 4th, 1994, PARIS, FRANCE
AS LINDY HAD wished, she got her comfy window seat on the plane, except that she had the addition of first class seating which allowed her ample leg room and the comfort of a pillow and blanket. Her flight had a layover in New York, but after that, the plane had taken her directly across the Atlantic and all the way to Paris, France.
My life is a fucking movie, Lindy told herself as she had waited for her baggage to come around the conveyor belt in the Charles de Gaulle airport. Her driver, who she had discovered was also one of Kurt's handlers, was next to her. He had been assigned the important duty of making sure Lindy got to France safe and sound, a mission that had gone soundly.
"I hope he pays you good for this," Lindy growled as she had hiked her luggage off the belt and onto the floor, snapping open its handle. The man, whose name had turned out to be Max, laughed.
"The look on your face when I came to get you was priceless enough," Max grinned. Lindy had definitely grown on him during their journey together. Watching her grumble to herself in her first class seat on the flight, staring out the window with furrowed brows had been an excellent form of entertainment.
With Max's aide, Lindy was driven to a classy looking hotel that strongly reminded her of the one she had stayed in in New York. This one seemed just as expensive, its exterior made of intricately carved pale stone and the shadow it casted along the street one of monstrous proportions.
After gathering Lindy's one bag from the car trunk and leading her through the hotel lobby to the elevator, Max bid her goodbye.
"You're not staying?" Lindy asked, suddenly fearful. She had no idea where she was going or what she was doing in such a foreign city. Her heart had not stopped skipping beats since they'd landed on the French soil.
"I'm needed elsewhere," Max explained. "I work with the Nirvana backstage crew most of the time. But be expecting me in a two, maybe three hours. I've got to pick you up for the show."
"Oh. Right. They're performing," Lindy said, remembering gleefully that her reward for enduring such an expedition would be seeing Kurt. She was struck with the realization that Courtney would not be around Kurt that night. She was somewhere else, far away from them both.
Tonight, they wouldn't have to hide.
Lindy said goodbye to Max and got into the elevator, staring in awe at the gold embellishments inside. She was on one of the topmost floors.
"What, the penthouse wasn't available?" she mumbled caustically to herself as she was let out from the elevator. It wouldn't have been surprising to her if Kurt had booked her a penthouse suite and she wondered in the back of her mind if he had attempted it.
She found her room number and entered inside, shaking her head when she took in the extravagant furniture and regal decor. Even the wallpaper seemed to shimmer with the allure of diamonds and gold, a true note of Kurt's intentions to spoil Lindy, but never himself.
She wandered about the room, carefully touching a variety of fixtures before stopping at the circular glass breakfast table. On top of it sat a stainless steel icebox that held a bottle of expensive white wine. Next to it was a flat box adorned with red ribbon and Lindy assumed it must have held clothing inside of it.
She uncapped the lid and pulled apart the tissue paper, blushing red all the way to her scalp when she saw what lay inside.
It was lingerie, sewn together with sensual clumps of lacy, flower-patterned material that couldn't have even available for purchase in the States.
