“You don’t have to freak out. It’s a suite and it really has two bedrooms,” Nick explained as he pushed the heavy door opened. “Voila.”
Jordan rolled her eyed good naturedly. “Nick, I used to share a bathroom with two older brothers. I’m cool.”
Nick grinned as he placed their suitcases on the floor. After tipping the bellboy, he closed the door behind him. In the living room, Jordan pirouetted to assess the suite. She let out a low whistle. “The last time I was in Cannes we crashed in the youth hostel. This is seriously a flip of coin,” she marveled.
“I know, I’m still overwhelmed by it myself. Come on, let’s check out the bedrooms,” Nick urged. Soon both of them bounded down the hallway towards the master bedroom. “Since you’re so cool with hopping on the plane, crossing several oceans in the process, just to make me look less like a loser, the master bedroom is all yours,” Nick declared, smiling.
Jordan tilted her head to the side, looking at Nick in awe. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. Let’s unpack and catch some nap. Tonight is gonna be a long night.”
Later that evening.
“LJ?”
“Yeah?”
“What on earth are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Jordan pulled her lower eyelid and brought her right index finger closer to her eye. The tip of the finger eventually touched her eyeball, and she proceeded on with blinking. “I’m wearing my contacts. You wouldn’t want me bugging you asking what the heck’s happening on the stage the entire night, would you?”
Nick shuddered. “Uh, I think I stick to glasses for now,” he concluded.
Jordan laughed. She walked towards Nick who was standing at the doorway. “What’s up?”
“Oh yeah.” Nick grinned. He lifted his hands and produced a necktie and a bowtie, both in the color of forest green. “Michael Douglas or Ben Affleck? Or Kevin Bacon?”
Jordan wrinkled her forehead. She rested her hands on her hips, contemplating on either article. “You’re too blond for Kevin Bacon, plus it is a formal affair, so no to the sexy open-chest look,” she formulated.
Nick frowned. “Too blond? Do you really wanna get your ass romped, Wakefield?”
Grinning, she patted Nick’s shoulder playfully. “I meant it in a good way, trust me.” She tapped her chin, scrutinizing. “I’d say Ben Affleck. Bowties kinda remind me of the undertakers.”
“Thanks, J. That’s really helpful,” Nick said dryly.
Jordan shrugged. “I do deal with a lot of them, remember?”
Nick chuckled. He lifted the necktie and flagged it in the air. “So Ben Affleck it is.” He then gave Jordan a curious once-over. “And how come you’re still in your bathrobe?”
“And how come you’re still in your boxers?” Jordan counter-attacked.
“I’d only take 10 minutes to be ready. However, unlike you women…” Nick paused as he noticed the look given by Jordan. He grinned smugly.
“Yeah? Let’s see who’s gonna be down to the lobby first.”
30-minutes or so later.
Nick descended the stairs down to the grand lobby slowly, feeling satisfied that he had beaten Jordan in their little race. He spotted Howie, who was chatting with a man in a white suit by the fountain. He figured the others were still getting ready, so he made his way to the black leather sofa to wait for Jordan.
“You’re late.”
Nick turned 360˚ on his heels. “You’re the one who’s…” He paused, momentarily speechless at the sight greeting him.
“I was down here since 5 minutes ago,” Jordan claimed. She gave him a little smile, then frowned when her gaze settled on Nick’s tie. “That’s a little crooked. Here, let me.” She reached forward and fiddled gently with the knotted tie.
“How…?”
“I was a quick changer in the Great Ohio Circus,” Jordan replied, still fiddling with the tie. She raised her gaze, saw the skeptical look given by Nick and grinned. “Kidding. I had my make up on by the time you came to my room. Dress was 5 minutes, hair was a little tedious though, and the rest took all in I believe, around 25 minutes.” She smoothed the little wrinkle at the edge of Nick’s green silk shirt. “There ya go.”
Nick smiled in awe. He shook his head slightly, marveling at the sight in front of him. “You have always been an eye catcher on daily bases, but tonight, you look incredible,” Nick declared.
“So I jazz up pretty good?” Jordan asked, smiling.
Nick assessed her whole 5 foot 8 figure. The dress exposed her left creamy shoulder, clung on the right places, and flared gracefully down her heels. Small rhinestones decorated the bodice of the dress, giving it a glittering look. Her hair, which was up in a ponytail, secured by a clip with a rhinestones-studded butterfly brooch. A few tendrils of loose hair were tucked behind her ears, and her look was perfected by a simple choker.
“Well?”
“Simply amazing,” Nick concluded, smiling.
Jordan returned the smile. “You cleaned up pretty good yourself, Carter.”
“Heya, Lovebirds!” AJ greeted chirpily. He slung his arms around both Nick’s and Jordan’s shoulder. Frowning, he narrowed his eyes at Jordan. “Girl, did you grow over the flight journey?”
Jordan grinned. “Must be the heels.”
AJ shook his head disapprovingly at the covered-toe velvet stilettos slipped on Jordan’s feet. “Those are men’s worst invention for vertically-challenged guys like me. Now all you pretty little things are gonna tower above me,” he complained.
“J, they always tower above you, with or without shoes,” Nick commented. Jordan laughed.
AJ rolled his eyes. He gave Jordan a once-over and let out a low whistle. “Yo, ma. You look excellent enough to eat.”
“Thanks, I guess” Jordan replied, grinning.
“And look, green-galore. You’re practically soul mates now?” AJ inquired, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Nick rolled his eyes and smacked AJ’s chest. “Now, instead of hogging my date, don’t you have your own to entertain?”
“Look, it’s barely been a day and he’s being all possessive. Don’t forget to lock your bedroom door tonight, Jordan. You might never know who would sneak in,” he spoke, winking at Jordan.
“AJ!”
***
Her phone rang and Jordan quickly searched for it in her small velvet pouch. She was in the restroom of the ball banquet, and she lost count of how many famous faces she saw. “Wakefield.”
“It’s me, Viv. Can you talk?”
Jordan surveyed her surroundings and she didn’t think the likes of Sandra Bullock and Kate Beckinsale were going to eavesdrop on her. “Shoot. What’s up?”
“Thank God. Look, I know you’re off for the week, I did the DNA test and Burt ran your guy on AFIS and we got a match.”
Jordan raised an eyebrow. “I thought his fingers were goners, man.”
“Yeah, but Burt reconstructed the prints and we got a match,” Viv continued.
Jordan clicked her tongue in awe. “I don’t know how the hell he pulled that one, but that bastard is a genius. So, he matched AFIS. Any leads?”
“Your guy was a Marie Elizabeth Woods.”
“What?” she said, pulling the cellphone away from her ear. She stared at it for a few moments before bringing it back to her auricle. “You went static on me. Run that by me once again.”
“J, your guy was a true hermaphrodite. The DNA test came out with two X chromosomes and 2 Barr bodies. She, or he, whichever your preference, was born here in New York and 24 years later, Marie Elizabeth became Thomas Woods.”
Jordan was speechless. “But I did him! He had a willy and two perfectly-descended testicles!” she rebutted, lowering her tone at the controversial words. To no avail, she still attracted the attention of a woman on the next sink. The woman gave her a distasteful look and she muttered a curt apology.
“Yeah, I was guessing it’s Las Vegas. Or maybe Amsterdam. Hell of a job,” Viv replied. Then she chuckled. “Is there such thing as donating your prostates?” she joked.
“Hell if I know,” Jordan answered. She left the restroom to avoid further embarrassment. “So, Marie, or Thomas, or whatever. Why was he up in AFIS in the first place?” she questioned. Her eyes surveyed the hallway and she retreated to a concealed balcony.
“Thomas Woods. Charge of battery, July 2005. He was definitely an aggressive one, considering the domineering androgen and everything.”
“Yeah, too bad the Butcher got the best of him,” Jordan spoke dryly.
“Another victim, and we’ve got ourselves a serial.”
Jordan chuckled. “You sounded like you’re actually looking forward to it.”
“Well, I’m not exactly 10000 miles away in Cannes, having the time of my life. I need all the excitement I could get,” Viv joked. “Sorry to interrupt your mingling with Julia Roberts or whoever, I just thought you might wanna know.”
“Uh huh. A lady looked at me as if I had grown an extra head on my ass when I mentioned the word ‘testicles’ in the toilet.”
Viv laughed. “No way.”
“Serious way,” Jordan relayed, chuckling to herself. She caught the sight of Nick, chattering away with Kevin and a lady who might look like Diane Keaton. Nick lifted his glance and their eyes met. He waved at her.
“Alright J. Don’t forget to buy me a miniature Eiffel keychain.”
***
“Did you have to queue for the restroom or something?” Nick leaned down to whisper to her as he slid an arm around her waist.
Jordan grinned. “No, I got a call from my colleague.”
Nick raised an eyebrow, smirking. “The all-time workaholic. Can’t they leave you alone for at least a week?”
Kevin, who was having a conversation with Diane Keaton, looked up. “Jordan, honey, you look fantastic,” he praised, letting his eyes appreciate the view. “Jordan, this is Diane Keaton. Diane, meet Jordan Wakefield.”
Jordan smiled and offered a hand politely. They exchanged a brief handshake. She tried hard to suppress the teenybopper in her. “Mrs. Keaton, I love all your movies. Especially the one with Jack Nicholson, ‘Something’s Gotta Give.”
Nick gasped in mock horror. “Oh my God, J! You actually had time to watch movies?”
Jordan swatted Nick’s arm playfully. “Contrary to popular beliefs, I do have a life, or a minor part of it.
Diane laughed. “You poor one. What is your line of profession, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I’m a pathologist, where no potential or whatsoever of being in 10-foot radius with Keanu Reeves,” Jordan replied, grinning.
The older lady gasped. “Oh my!” She placed a hand on her chest, obviously shocked. “You could be gracing the front cover of ‘Elle’, but look at you!” She shook her head slightly, amazed. “You must be one heck of a brave lady.”
“My life is the epitome of boring,” Jordan replied, smiling. “Yours, however, is full of excitement. I read your play, ‘Rendezvous’. It was superb.”
“Thank you, hun,” Diane spoke. She was greeted by another familiar face who Jordan couldn’t exactly pinpoint. “Oh, sorry kiddies. This old bugger needs to talk.” She smiled to Jordan. “Maybe we could have breakfast together tomorrow, Jordan?”
After she was gone, Jordan beamed. “She remembered my name!”
Kevin and Nick chuckled. “That was awesome, J. I didn’t even know she wrote a play,” Nick remarked.
“How would you when your reading material only centers on DC comics and FHM,” Kevin teased. They all shared a laugh, as Kristen joined them. She gave her husband a quick peck on the cheek.
“Jordan, babe. Let’s go grab a seat before these folks go up there and perform,” she notified, already grabbing Jordan’s arm. “Good luck, sweetie. Me and the girls will be in the G foyer.”
“Wait!” Nick called. “Aren’t you going to say good luck to your date, LJ?” he asked, grinning mischievously.
Jordan rolled her eyes. She tiptoed and planted a soft kiss on Nick’s cheek. He smiled. “Now, go do your thang, Carter!”
***
She was awed. To the point that she’d give a written confession about being smitten after the first gig. It was something like falling in love at first sight.
She had a fair share of live music during her college years. Despite the long hours in medical school, she still managed to attend gigs and concerts every time any good rock and Indie bands hit New Jersey. Although she was fairly acquainted with the guys, thanks to Diana, she was never much into pop music.
They were soulful. They were melodious. They were easy to the ears and definitely a big-banquet thing. She could immediately see why these guys were chosen to perform at such a high-profiled gala like Cannes.
“They are excellent, aren’t they?”
Jordan lifted her gaze off the stage and turned her head to the right. There sitting in the dark was a man in mid 50s, wearing a double-breasted suit with a black bow tie. Jordan’s lips curved into a smile. “Yes, they are,” she replied.
“I see that your eyes haven’t left the stage since they started singing 7 minutes ago,” the man remarked. He gave her a grin.
Jordan suppressed a laugh and chuckled instead. “Did they really?”
The man smiled again. “I saw you earlier with one of them. I take it you two came together?”
“Yes, we did,” Jordan admitted, flashing yet another smile.
“I’m John Garcia.” He extended a hand.
They shook hands briefly. After a short introduction, Jordan learned that Garcia was a businessman from Los Angeles. They began a conversation centering on the guys and Cannes. They were chatting amiably when Jordan felt a tap on her shoulder from behind the row of seats. She raised her head and saw Nick smiling down on her.
“Hey, you were awesome!” she greeted him.
Nick smiled as he rounded the row and took a seat next to Jordan in the foyer. “Thank you. Who’s your friend?”
“Oh, yes,” Jordan said. She turned her head to the seat next to her. “Mr. Garcia… Where is he?” She craned her neck to the next empty seat and the back row. The man was gone.
“Who?”
Jordan fell silent. Weird. She shrugged her shoulders offhandedly. “Mr. Garcia from LA. I turned away for 20 seconds and he was gone. I didn’t know I was that boring.”
Nick laughed. “Aww. Don’t feel bad, J.”
Jordan smacked Nick’s arm. Then she broke into a grin. “I have a confession to make.”
Nick raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“I think I’m officially a fan now,” Jordan admitted, laughing softly at feeling so school-girly. “Now I have a reason to load my iPod with boyband music,” she added, grinning mischievously.
“Boyband? Have you been listening to NSync or what?” Nick interjected, shaking his head, appearing disapproval.
Jordan laughed. Maybe she was not really an avid fan of TRL, but one would have to be a total demented to miss the riff between the two biggest groups in pop.
“So, have you been enjoying yourself so far?”
“Catching a glimpse of Spielberg, Jude Law, Keira Knightley, Julia Roberts is indeed getting old fast,” Jordan replied sarcastically. “Are you kidding? Tonight is probably one of my best ever!” she burst out. A moment later her voice dropped to a less-excited tone. “Opps, didn’t mean to sound so passé. A girl can only contain so much.”
Nick laughed. “I know! As I walked down the aisle I shook hands with Robert De Niro. I’m not gonna wash my hand for a really long time,” he concluded.
“That’s disgusting, Nick,” Jordan gagged. Suddenly the crowd died down as the light was dimmed again. A wave of hushed whispers arose again. “It’s a screening, isn’t it?” Jordan inquired curiously. The hotel had handed them a bunch of brochures after checking in, containing all the information regarding the Festival, the screening schedule, and after parties. But both of them were too drained to actually read any of it, and the brochures are just a bunch on papers on the bedside table.
Jordan could make out Nick’s head nodding in the dark. “I think it’s the Da Vinci Code. I heard somebody whispered somewhere,” he replied. “Man, I can’t wait!”
Jordan’s interest peaked. “Seriously? Damn. I thought I have to fight for the DVD at Blockbuster next week or something. Wait til Diana hears this. She and I live in the same apartment but we have our separate hardcovers on the shelf.”
“You read it too?” Nick questioned, thrilled to finally find a mutual enthusiast.
“I was up all night deciphering ‘Oh lame saint’. I think the word ‘read’ didn’t really justify it,” Jordan replied. “I’m a dork, I know.”
Nick grinned, his pearly white teeth glowing in the dark. “I worked it out in 3 hours.”
“No way.”
“Uh huh, doctor. I might not attend Harvard, but anagrams are a piece of cake for me.”
Jordan laughed lowly again. “Show off!”
And so they sat back to watch as the most-talked movie of the year made its debut onscreen.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Sorry for the long pause. I was waiting for the perfect time so that this entry will coincide with the Cannes Festival. 'Oh lame saint' in the chapter refers to a phrase in Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code. It's an anagram, kinda a code which is once broken, deciphered into 'The Mona Lisa'.
Hermaphrodite is a human possessing both male and female characteristics. In case of our guy here, who happens to be a TRUE hermaphrodite, he/she has a pair of testicles and a vagina. The situation can be surgically improved however, with he/she given the choice to determine his/her own eventual sex.
AFIS refers to Automated Fingerprint Identification Systems.
Other than that, enjoy! :)
Hermaphrodite is a human possessing both male and female characteristics. In case of our guy here, who happens to be a TRUE hermaphrodite, he/she has a pair of testicles and a vagina. The situation can be surgically improved however, with he/she given the choice to determine his/her own eventual sex.
AFIS refers to Automated Fingerprint Identification Systems.
Other than that, enjoy! :)
