Just Perfect! (Persaud Girl) Page 4

  Micah had been a saint ever since then, and he had attended dance concerts and Persaud Enterprises dinners and her mother’s fashion shows with her, and he always looked like he was having a great time. Better still, he had never again suggested anything as low bite as ‘Last Lap ’Round the Boundary’. Now, Samantha could not help but wonder if Phillip was right. Did Micah find her need for constant perfection suffocating? Did she indeed have a stick up her butt, and no concept of what a good time was? Was a fun, carefree time what Ronica offered that she couldn't? Samantha bit into her third cookie, deep in thought. Phillip was not the only one who thought she was uptight. Nikki and Bridget told her all the time that she needed to loosen up and have some fun. Even her Grandpa Ravi had once told her, quite kindly, that she was 'too pretty to be so starchy'. She had told Grandpa that she was not starchy, just mature and focused, to which Grandpa mumbled something about to-MAY-toes and to-MAH-toes.

  She could have fun, Samantha decided. She could let down her hair and be young and hip. Maybe she should prove everybody wrong and go out with Phillip and try to have a nice time. It was her birthday, for goodness sake. She shouldn't be inside getting fatter and fatter from cookies and ice-cream and being upset over stupid old Micah. Moping over him was unproductive, and he certainly wasn't losing brain cells thinking about her. He was probably at Students’ Union grinding up on his ugly girlfriend at that very minute!

  She hopped off her high chair, and returned the cookies to the cupboard, before going to find Phillip. He was in the den, typing a mile a minute into his Pocket PC.

  "Did you change your mind about going out?" She asked.

  "Nope, I am just making sure my idiot analyst sent off the pitch book for a project we’re bidding on. I swear that moron cannot chew gum and walk at the same time. How he made it into Persaud Financials is beyond me!"

  Samantha rolled her eyes. Apart from being known as a man whore, Phillip was also famous for being impatient and demanding with his junior staff. "Who did you say was going to be at Hell tonight?"

  "Infierno! And it’s just a few guys from the office..."

  "A bunch of you from the office? What kind of Investment Bankers are you guys if you find time to hang out at Hell?"

  "Did you come in here to criticise my work ethic, or to find out if I’m still willing to take you with me?"

  "I’ll come, but only for one reason, and that is to show you and everyone else that I can go out and have a good time if I want to. And when I do, you have to take back what you said about Micah breaking up with me because I have a stick up my ass, because I don't!"

  "Riiight!" Phillip teased. "Well if you’re coming, you better go get dressed. I’m almost ready, and the car will be here soon.” He looked his cousin up and down. “Although judging from how you look, I’d better tell the service to give us another hour – or six!”

  "Funny!" Samantha spat. "And here are the ground rules for tonight. I am your date tonight. You will not dump me for any of your tarty little groupies, and you will not try to pimp me off on any of your man whore friends. You will be ready when I determine we are ready, and nobody, and I mean nobody is taking my picture for any magazine. Are we clear?"

  "You do realise that you’re probably the world's most controlling human being, right?" Phillip pulled out his cell phone. "When are you going to learn that you can’t control everything?"

  "I know I can't control everything," Samantha told her cousin. "That is why I hold on so tight to the things that I can control."

  "Well, I have one rule tonight, and that is we’re not following any of your stupid rules. Go get dressed. I have to make a call. I'll meet you downstairs in an hour."

  ***

  “Well, you certainly clean up well!” Phillip commented. He gave his cousin a once over as he ushered her out of the town car that drove them to Infierno.

  “I know!” Samantha said, removing her Burberry trench.

  She had realised too late that she had not brought anything from her apartment worthy of ‘the city’s most exclusive club’, so she had gone rummaging through some fashion week left overs that Aunt Elisabeth had stored in Aunt Phoebe’s basement. Most of those outfits, Samantha noted, must have been cut for super skinny model types, who subsisted purely on diet coke and cigarettes, and she was what her mother called a ‘real woman’ (Grandma Joyce, her mother’s mother, often opined that she was just plain fat) with curves and hips and boobs. However, she managed to find something that was not stick-figure-sized -- a rather risqué violet mini dress that gave new meaning to ‘plunging neckline’. It was a short, sleeveless number with a cowl back, pleated front and a tiered bubble hem. The silky fabric fell comfortably over her curves and showed off her long, gym-toned legs. She had accessorised the dress with a pair of Aunt Phoebe’s Christian Louboutin snake skin sandals and a gold Versace clutch bag. She made a french braid around the crown of her head, and formed the back into a tousled bun, and studded it with tiny gold clips. A touch of nude lipstick was all the makeup she wore, but the April evening gave her fair skin a soft bronze glow. Phillip had been more than impressed.

  “Seriously Sam, you look hot!” Phillip repeated. “I mean -- wowsa!"

  “Come on Phillip! You've seen me dressed up before, and you're being creepy now!" There was annoyance in her voice but alacrity in her heart. She knew she looked amazing. The full length mirror in her bedroom told her that much, but getting a 'wowsa' out of Phillip was a definite bonus. Samantha smiled on the inside, thinking that no one had ever said 'wowsa' to Ronica Davis. Her smiled turned to a frown. No one but Micah, perhaps. Her Micah....

  "Well, looking hot is just the beginning," Phillip assured her. "You're gonna have an amazing time tonight. C'mon! Let's get you a drink. What do you want? The bartender makes the perfect tamarind margarita!"

  "A Pellegrino with a twist will do quite nicely!"

  Phillip glared at her. "Really, Sam? I thought I said we were going to have fun tonight!"

  "And I can have fun without the buzz of alcohol!" Samantha informed him. "And you know why? Because I have a personality!"

  "Has anyone ever told you that you are a vapid pain in the ass?"

  "Sticks and stones, Phillip! And I prefer my Pellegrino on the rocks, please!"

  Samantha looked around the club as Phillip placed their order at the bar. Club Infierno was not what she had expected. Last October, Andie and her cousins Klao and Bianca had come to New York with her mother and Grandma Sylvia for New York Fashion week. Andie, Klao and Bianca had pestered her until she agreed to go with them to Lotus. Lotus had been crowded and loud and crawling with celebrities and models and wannabe UES socialites, scantily clad and exposing more than their fair share of thigh and cleavage and lounging around as though they popped out of the womb poised for a cliché Manhattan night out.

  Infierno was much more her taste. The club had a smoky, psychedelic, moody feel and the sensual mariachi music that came through the speakers reminded Samantha of the two weeks Spanish club field trip her 11th grade class had taken to Mexico City. The patrons were elegant and fashionable, and as Phillip had promised, they were bankers, corporate lawyers, hedge fund managers and a few financial journalists to create a balance. She could hear conversation swirling around her - talks of bond prices and foreign exchange rates and the Gulf crisis, and she was positive no one there gave a damn who Petunia Rose was. Yes. This was her kind of place. Certainly she could like it here.

  "Here's your cocktail, Punky Brewster!" Phillip handed her the glass with a lemon wedge stuck to the rim. "Remember now -- sip, don't gulp or you may, I don't know, wanna pee or something!"

  "Whatever, Phillip!"

  She followed him to his booth tucked away in the back of the club. A bunch of guys and girls who looked like they should be starring in ‘The Young and the Restless’ were lounging around.

  "Hallo, dahling! You're here! That means your pitch book got emailed off on time, then?" A super tall, super skinny over-plucked red head un
folded herself from the leather seat and stood to greet Phillip, perfunctorily kissing one cheek then the next. Her charming, polished British accent made her sound as though she had grown up having tea and crumpets with the queen of England, but the rest of her did not match that voice. She was not a day under forty, but was trying desperately hard to look 'thirty never'. Trying and failing, Samantha noted. She hoped this was not Phillip’s girlfriend – the one who made her have to throw out her ice cream earlier. She was way too scary looking – like a caricature of who she was really supposed to be, and her elongated arms and legs draped all over Phillip made her look like a daddy-long-legs.

  "No thanks to that moron, Gordon!" Phillip responded. "I swear to God one of these days…”

  "Take it easy on him, duck!" Daddy long legs advised. "Not everyone can be Jeremy!"

  “Don’t tease me with ‘what if’s Jen!” Phillip kidded. He turned to Samantha. “Sam, meet Jen, Chad, Marcus, Sue and Lexie. Guys, my cousin, Samantha.”

  Samantha smiled politely at Phillip’s friends.

  “Samantha? As in the super smart, super beautiful but insanely elusive cousin at NYU fame?” Marcus stated. He was a tall, divinely beautiful African American man, built like a football player, but with a playful twinkle in his eyes that made Samantha feel instantly at ease.

  “I guess that’s me!” Samantha offered her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Marcus took her hand, but instead of a shake, he pressed it to his lips. “Phillip speaks about you often and very fondly!” He shuffled down in the booth and Samantha sat next to him, surreptitiously adjusting her dress so her underwear would not show. “You took so long to join us for an evening out that I was sure he made you up.”

  “Well, she’s out tonight, and it’s her birthday tomorrow, so we better make sure she has a nice time!”

  Samantha glanced at the makeshift minibar that was set up on the table with scattered bottles of Del Maguey, Pechuga, G’vine and Stoli, and carafs of orange, grapefruit and cranberry juice that were provided for chasers. She hoped all Phillip’s friends had rides to go home later. She took a sip of her water proud of the fact that she was the only one not surrendering to the buzz of alcohol. If needs be, she could be the designated driver.

  “Are you all in investments too?” Samantha asked, trying to make conversation.

  “God no!” Marcus declared. “Those hours are boarder line abusive!”

  “Marcus works in legal,” Phillip contributed. “He has a lazy man’s job -- specialises in white collar investigations and appeals...”

  “I hope you think the same thing when the investment bubble breaks, and I'm saving your ass from prison!” Marcus pointed out, taking a sip of his drink.

  Samantha looked at him. He was so beautiful, she thought. And smooth and smart and successful... She knew she had told Phillip that he could not pimp her out to any of his friends, but she would make an exception for this one...

  “Whatever!” Phillip declared, fishing his ringing cell phone from his pocket. “I gotta take this.”

  He excused himself from the table, and Samantha was left with the others. She wondered what on earth they would talk about. Usually, she was a social butterfly, able to confidently talk the socks off anyone at any time. But somehow, since Micah told her in no uncertain terms that he was no longer in love with her, she had lost her self-confidence. She couldn't even hold a conversation without considering what the other person was thinking of her. Did they think she was stuck up, or starchy, or had a superiority complex... She hoped Phillip would be back soon.

  “So what about the rest of you?” She asked.

  “Lexie, Chad and I are in Investments,” Jen told her, stirring her mojito. “Sue is a bit further down the food chain – Private Banking!”

  Samantha smiled at the glare of doom Sue gave her.

  “And do you hang out here every Friday night?”

  “We wish!” Chad looked wistful. “Investment Associates have no life. Phillip insisted we come out and celebrate because today I closed on a sixty-five million dollar privatisation project, and he survived the pitch on an LBO without killing that moron, Gordon. We party tonight and Monday we re-join the real world.”

  “I don’t know why anyone would purposely become and investment banker!” Marcus declared with a shake of his head.

  “I can think of a few hundred grand a year of them!” Jen suggested.

  “Yes, but can you find time to spend what you make?”

  “No, but that means I can retire by my fortieth birthday!”

  "Haven't you turned forty like six times already, Jen?" Sue pointed out.

  "Oh sod off!" Jen scowled. She turned to Samantha. "So how is NYU working out for you, luv? I don't know how you can bear to learn at that abominable place, surrounded by hippies and hobos!" She took a sip of her drink.

  "It's much more interesting than I thought it would be," Samantha told her honestly. "Wasn't my first choice for grad school, but it's not so bad, and I’m surviving!"

  "Are you joining at Persaud Financials when you are through?" Lexie asked.

  "I dunno..." The idea had never crossed her mind until now. Perhaps instead of BOJ, she could stay in New York after NYU and work for Persaud Financials - Private Banking with Sue, or Treasury, so she could have a hope at reasonable working hours. Plus, she liked Phillip's friends. They were entertaining to say the least. She wouldn’t be averse to hanging out with this bunch at Infierno every time they closed a deal...

  "Well, you should!" Sue advised. "Persaud Financials is an awesome place to work and New York's a wonderful city. And if you stay here, you never have to look at your loser ex ever again!"

  Sue's comment came totally from out of left field, and Samantha almost choked on her water. "Excuse me?"

  "Phillip told us that you got dumped," Marcus explained.

  Samantha blushed. Phillip told his friends that she had been dumped? What on earth would possess him to do that? And why hadn't he said something to her before? Now, here she was, stuck with his friends, who were probably only talking to her because they felt sorry for her. She stared at her empty water glass, and willed her eyes not to fill with tears.

  "Don't feel bad, hon!" Sue told her, breaking her thoughts. "Getting dumped isn't the worst thing in the world."

  "I don't..." Samantha began. She couldn't have been more mortified if she tried.

  "And having been dumped a countless number of times, I can give you some sage advice,” Sue continued. “The quickest way of getting over one loser is to find another loser to worship you. Or at least one that can provide you with some awesome rebound sex!”

  “Which of those categories do I fall into babe?” Marcus asked, looking more than a bit insulted.

  Samantha was stunned. “You two are dating?”

  “Snuck around for weeks pretending like they weren’t until I blew their cover!” Jen smirked.

  “And it’s no secret how much you love to ‘blow things’, Jen!” Chad said with a snort.

  “Oh, darling, wouldn't you like to know...”

  “You know, we should introduce Samantha to Jeremy!" Lexie piped in before the others could start a fight.

  “That is a great idea!” Sue agreed. “They would totally hit if off!”

  “Who’s Jeremy?” Samantha asked.

  “He was a Summer Associate from last year," Lexie said. “He goes to Columbia. He's Phillip's protégé. Phillip swears he can walk on water. Surprising he's not here tonight. He must be studying!"

  “Is Jeremy coming out tonight?” Sue asked, turning to Marcus. Marcus shrugged, clearly not caring less whether or not Jeremy came out. He was still insulted having been termed either ‘another loser’ or ‘good rebound sex’.

  “You really should meet Jeremy, duck,” Jen said. “He is absolutely gorgeous and bright, and speaking from experience, he would make for awesome rebound sex.”

  “You didn’t!” Lexie’s eyes grew wide. “He’s practically a baby! Six
years ago he would have been jailbait…”

  “Well, you know I love younger men!" Jen reminded her. "They alone have the energy to keep up with me. Besides, that piece of man candy is worth jail time!"