Lala Pettibone's Act 2- FIRST LOOK
When It Rains
Before Lala could gush that she was signing on immediately to work at Atelier du Monde for the rest of her life because they served champagne in elephantine bottles, and because she would be working next to her future husband, and because Marie-Laure was officially her new best friend, and maybe Marie-Laure should start planning Lala’s bachelorette party right now, Gérard joined them.
Note to self, Lala thought. Get hypnosis to make these shit-eating grins more manageable.
Gérard kissed Lala on the cheek.
I swear, I must look like I’m possessed, Lala thought.
Gérard kissed Marie-Laure on the cheek. He stood next to Marie-Laure, and the two faced Lala, smiling.
“You have found each other already. I am so glad,” Gérard said.
Lala stared at them. The blood in her veins plummeted to the temperature of a Siberian lake. In December.
They were such subtle gestures. Anyone could have missed one or both. Or interpreted either as entirely innocent.
Unless one had majored in theater in college and thus always considered herself a student of the human condition. Or unless one had been a lifelong reader of classic literature about the timeless interaction of souls and thus always considered herself a student of the human condition. Or unless one were madly in love with her boss.
Lala watched Gérard put his arm gently, tenderly, caressingly, and very briefly around Marie-Laure’s waist. She watched Marie-Laure respond with equal intensity and brevity by putting her hand on Gérard’s shoulder for just a moment.
Lala heard her now frigid blood pounding in her ears. She managed to retain consciousness long enough to realize that Gérard and Marie-Laure were both giving her a quizzical look. She must have been staring at them with the eyes of a lunatic.