Carrie paused a moment, trying very hard not to loose her composure. She wipes her eyes with a napkin, then straightens her form out, sitting back further in her chair.
"I'm sorry". A glint of embarrassment showed in her face.
"It's okay." That all I could say, a little anxious about on how this was going. I put my open left hand, facing palm up, on the table. She placed her small hand in mine. She squeezed with a strength that surprised me, with all the power her small lithe frame could muster.
"I wasn't always like this, you know." She said. Her face seemed to show the frustration I know had to be there.
"I was born, an only child, to a rich and powerful family.Fancy cars, houses on the 'Bu, the Hills, Honolulu, Vienna, Paris. You name it. I could have anything my heart desired. There are some that will say I was spoiled and materialistic. And they would be right. There will be others who will say with all the things I had I wanted so much more. And they be right too, but for the wrong reasons." She paused and reached for her coffee cup.
I was enthralled now. I now wanted to know why someone attractive, intelligent, and from a successful family ended in this current predicament. I waited patiently for her to continue.
She took a sip of her coffee, placing the cup on the table and turning it with the label facing her. She looked at a few seconds, then turned she attention back to me, showing a quick flash of her smile.
"Anyways, I was a rebellious and difficult child. I always got whatever I wanted, because I would throw a tantrum if I didn't."
"My father was a lawyer, specializing in international business. He was hardly ever home. When he did come home, he would bring me gifts from wherever he might of been."
"My mom was a basic rich Cali wife. She would hang out the other wives and go on huge shopping sprees, work out at the gym, doll up at the salon, and lived for the country club."
"I was raised by a variety of servants. Nannies, butlers, chefs, chauffeurs. And when I turned six, I had my own personal assistant. She paused a moment and took another sip of her coffee."
She continued with a story, but made an interesting transition.
Parlez-vous Franaçis?" She asked me. I was a bit surprised.
"Un peu." I responded. "Mais je beaucomp mieux."
So she continues in French, which I will write what she said in French order to keep the spirit of this piece.
"Toujours à cet âge, j'ai été inscrits dans le Lycée de international de Los Angeles. Tous les programmes a été enseignée en français. C'est là que j'ai pensé que j'ai trouvé ma meilleure amie et l'amour de ma vie, Concetta."
She stops at this. Her eyes fill up with tears.
"Excusez-moi." She stands up and quickly runs to the bathroom.
End of Part 2
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