Green

Chapter 2

When we landed in Heathrow airport, I was pretty sure my red lipstick was running down my chin. I'd had a restless flight, and woken up drooling multiple times. Of course Claudette and the other senior stylist looked impeccable, already ordering us junior stylists towards the bag carousels. 

"Do I have lipstick down my chin?" I asked Maura. Maura was the other female junior stylist.
There were four of us at Box, myself, Maura, Jimmy and Jonah. The J's were both gay, but caught the eye of every woman they passed. Maura had energy that went on for days, and could sometimes be a little immature. But she had been my first true girlfriend in New York, and her energy level sometimes helped remind me that I was still 19 years old and deserved to have fun.
Despite our long flight, Maura's eyes were lit up like the Chrysler building, and she ripped the Twizzler she'd been eating out of her hand with her teeth. "No. Why? Do you feel like it is?"

"Yes, I do," I said, cupping my chin with my hand before looking at it for any evidence of a make up melt down.
"Maura, Fern, a little help over here?" Claudette snapped her fingers at us.
"Cruella beckons," Maura whispered to me as we joined the others at the baggage claim. It was the middle of the night in London, we'd flown all day and were exhausted.

Before putting the four of us in a cab, Claudette handed us each a corporate credit card. "These accounts have a limit of five hundred pounds for the entire two weeks," she said sternly. "Anything you use beyond that limit will be coming out of your paycheck, and every purchase will be monitored. Frivolous spending means a disrespect of this company. None of you would be on this trip if I didn't trust you, show me that you can be responsible and that my trust in you is not wasted." With that speech, she handed us each a card and slammed the door to the black cab. Once the door was shut we waited until the cabbie had pulled around the corner before breaking into shouts and yelps of excitment.

"Holy crap! We're finally here!" Jimmy said, clasping his hands together. The scarf around his neck was still in place perfectly. I felt like the only one that had managed to get dishelved on our trip.
He leaned over the partition to speak to the cab driver, "Sir, please, take us to a pub!" Maura squealed and slapped the seat her excitement in danger of bubbling over.

"Aye, mate, the pubs here all close around midnight. 'Fraid it's too late to grab a pint right now." The cab driver told him. Jimmy looked crestfallen, while Jonah patted him gently on the back.
"Closes at midnight?" Maura asked, her brow wrinkled.

"Remember kids, not everywhere is like New York," Jonah said as though he'd told us this all along. "Let's get to the hotel and get some rest so we don't show up to the studio tomorrow like total wrecks. THEN we can hit the pubs." Jonah said.
"I second that," I agreed.
Maura rolled her eyes and sat back. For a few minutes, all we did was gaze out the window, the top of the London Eye peeking out over all the buildings. 

The streets of London seemed quieter than New York did at this time of night. The buildings were lit up, the city skyline looming like Manhattan, but there were fewer people walking around. We were staying at the Charlotte Street Hotel, and when we pulled up I thought I was living in a dream. The front of the building was white with awnings and old fashioned street lamps out front.
The four of us were practically buzzing, and we couldn't get our bags out of the cab fast enough. "We're with Box company." Maura told the concierge, practically puffing out her chest.
"Welcome to London," the young woman said, her accent sending the four of us into excited giggles again. I wondered to myself for the hundredth time why us Americans had been blessed with the most boring accent in the world. 

Inside, the rooms had green walls, with pink striped benches and headboards with leaf patterns that traveled high up the wall. Maura and I were sharing a room, with a door that led through to Jimmy and Jonah's room. Maura dropped her bags in the door way, running to sit on the pink striped bench and falling back onto the white comforter. I practically fell over the bags she'd dropped, but couldn't be irritated for long.