See you in St. Tropez

“What’s up?”

“I got woken up…are you sitting down?”

“I am in the car”

“Where the hell are you going at nine in the morning?”

“I just got done with the exam. Headed to Pushkin for late breakfast. Want me to pick you up?”

“How long do I have to get ready?”

Eva looked up at the driver.

“Sasha, we gotta pick Elly up. How long till we get there?”

“well, well, well… Here we go….”

Inside her head Eva wondered whether he will ever knock it off.

“Well, if there’s no traffic, maybe twenty minutes…” the driver said.

Eva got back on the phone.

“See you in five. Get ready quick I’m not gonna wait for you like last time.”

Sasha glanced over at Eva thought the rear-view mirror, clearly surprised.

“I guess I’ll have to skip make up then. I bet you’re all done up, though?” her friend asked.

“I haven’t even slept since last night! Got home, showered, changed and was off to college.”

“Girl, you’re crazy!”

“See you soon”

“Ok.”

Having finished the phone conversation Eva smiled to herself. She then noticed the surprised expression on her driver’s face, looking at her through the mirror.

“What?”

“I said twenty….”

“Come on, man. Do you actually believe she’ll get ready in twenty minutes? We’ll be waiting just as long, I’m telling you —” Eva said with regret in her tone. “I wish I hadn’t invited her, though. Now, I feel I am gonna be late for breakfast. All I wanted was to have a normal breakfast, after a night at a club. Not at five in the morning.”

“I don’t remember you ever having a normal breakfast, as you say… In fact, I don’t even remember you making it to college in time for the first class…”

“See… that’s what makes it tricky. Everyone’s going to work or study when we’re driving home after partying.”

“I’m used to it. Though, my wife gets unhappy….”

“Why?”

“She’s jealous.”

“Jealous of who?!” Eva’s face fell with surprise and a hint of disgust, as her inner voice was screaming trashy variants. Like jealous of Eva. Pshaw!

“Go figure what’s in her head,” Sasha sighed and frowned.

Eva felt amused as she pulled a pair of sunglasses out of her purse. On her smartphone, she selected her favorite playlist. Her favorite new school track, that her driver especially despised, was now playing. She turned the phone’s sound up, reached for another cigarette, and leaned back in the seat, having activated the massage feature. Perhaps, having massage seats wasn’t a bad idea after all. She was hoping Elly would be ready by the time they get there

Elly

My best friend lived in a historic pre-revolutionary building located in the very heart of downtown. The property’s beauty was hardly a consolation for lack of parking space. Elly lived with her mother and granny. They were one of those Intelligentsia families, Muscovites in multiple generations, as she would often claim. Her parents had long been divorced and the only thing she knew of her father was the fact he had gone away on an expedition and never returned. He did return though, only with another family. This fact, however, did not bother Elly in the slightest. That’s what she said and I had no reason not to believe my best friend. I trusted her with my life.

She always knew how to dress with taste, her natural beauty made up for the fact her family income wasn’t enough to afford the latest clothing collections. She possessed a look of a real model: long legs, a wasp waist, 5’11 height, and a pretty face with well-defined high cheekbones and beautiful plump lips. What seemed like a greater gift was her ability to eat everything she liked, without putting on any weight. Only a few could forgive such injustice, those who could not, called her a stuck-up bitch, or even a witch.

She attracted all kinds of men. From wealthy ones, or their offspring, to collegemates who would go out of their way to do anything for her. To pass her exams, for instance; Or spend an entire night outside her building, reciting love poems. She was spoiled with the attention of men, it seemed from the moment she was born, and that explained her cold, catty, and at times spiteful attitude she wouldn’t think twice to demonstrate. From time to time, it seemed she was even tired of all the admiration. Whether it was just an act or truth, it certainly added certain charm to her character. From all of her admirers she was drowned to those so-called trustafarians. In my mind, there was little room for a doubt she would soon be scoring her “golden ticket,” getting successfully, yet conveniently married. The “thick wallet” or perhaps his son she eventually will pick – will be her perfect companion. I strongly believed in it, even though could not openly endorse her approach. Elly didn’t mind. She was firmly convinced true love didn’t exist while material issues certainly did. It was a very important element of her belief system, that also featured much pride in her family name, quite prominent in the intellectual circles. She was a firm believer that any nouve riche – new rich, and his family would be honored to blend families with hers, and do everything for herself, her mother, and especially, her granny Rosa Markovna. To be honest, being surrounded by the people she chose to hang out with was never really my thing. However, I did that because she asked. I wasn’t a big fan of “jet set’ – trust funds children, and never missed an opportunity to point it out. I believe all they were was a gang of super-depended and degrading “dwarfs. I was happy not to be one of them. Yes, I myself may have been born into a wealthy family, but I was never a part of trust-fund babies club.

I remember debating about it at our favorite Italian restaurant.

“So, what are you then? A proletarian?” she would snide as I touched down on the subject. I thought of myself as being rebellious. Having a choice, will, and possibility not to hang out with them of course meant I had nothing to do with them.

“I am not on the jet set list, trust me on this one. Maybe ‘on papers’. But I refuse to be labeled. You know what my dad’s like. I am just a daughter of a wealthy man, awho still depends on him. That’s it. But I am Eva Isaeva. I am a person. You will see the day will come when worthy, strong, and independent women will take over the world. I believe in women’s strength and talents without male oppression. Not only is this world ready for such women, it needs them. I will be one of them, you will see!”

“Yea, I see. In the meantime, can you pass me that peppermill? Thank you, my powerful woman,” Elly wouldn’t stop teasing.

“You can laugh all you want!”

“I hope you’re not gonna take part in protests?” Elly asked, having almost choked on her truffle sauce.

“Are you insane? I am trying to make a point here. Can you hear yourself? I am talking about the importance of life priorities! But if you insist, I would take part in something like that, if it will be needed!”

“I am just messing with you! You know stuff they write about in the media this days. Nutcases. I am really scared,” she rolled her eyes. “By the way, Rosa literally made me read “The Catcher in the Rye” and guess what? Having read it, I actually liked it but only because of just one thing… have you read it?

“No”

“Well, it’s more like for teens. It’s about this kid who decides to rebel… Go against his family rules, because he had this life realization, a shock. I won’t spoil it for you, though. You have to read it. But here’s what I really liked and I think that is the point the author was trying to make. Well, so this kid’s friend gives him a very powerful idea.”

“What idea?”

“Well, he basically says that an immature man is that one who wants to die for a right cause, and a mature man will accept and live for a right cause.”

“So deep, but what’s it got to do with me? I was talking about the power of women. In other words, my dear Elly, a day will come and you will see how we girls can work and make enough money to buy Chanel and Bentley!

She listened carefully and then asked with a hint of sarcasm.

“Well, let me know where to apply for a job like that? You may be surprised, but I personally wouldn’t mind working to afford Chanel and Bentley without having to date some daddy’s boy.”