Is Didier Pascal as hot in person as he is online?
Jamie
He has nose hairs and belches all the time.
Coco
That means he is.??
He knew better than to engage in this conversation. Tossing his mobile on the bed, he went downstairs to see if the guys were awake yet.
They were in the kitchen. Didier was making Moroccan coffee—the scent was redolent through the entire floor—and Erik sat at the counter eating a bowl of cereal.
“I’m having clothes delivered for us,” he said, nodding his thanks to Didier who handed him a cup of coffee. “We need to look like regular guys. Regular guys don’t wear high-end fashion.”
“What do regular guys wear?” Didier asked with a small amount of suspicion.
“I have no idea.” He clapped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out when we see what Coco buys for us.”
Erik winced, setting his empty bowl aside. “It’s not easy finding clothes that fit me.”
“Coco is in fashion. If anyone can dress you, it’ll be her.” When the kid still looked dubious, he added, “Think of it this way. With the right clothes, we’ll increase our chances of winning. We need to dress for success.”
Didier nodded at Erik’s head. “What are we doing about that?”
Jamie smiled. “I’ve got it covered.”
Two hours later, they left the barbershop. The barber had taken one look at the kid and then motioned him to a chair, saying, “You lose a bet or something?” He’d somehow managed to even out the thick furrows of hair so, while the haircut looked severe, it didn’t look mental. Jamie figured it’d grow out in a couple days anyway.
They stopped at a little restaurant they came across on the way back and had lunch. Didier regaled them with stories from his childhood in Marseille, how he carried a football with him everywhere, always practicing because he’d wanted to be the best footballer in the world.
Enjoying each other’s company, they lingered over their meal and then ambled back. Jamie took a few photos of the neighborhood as well as Didier and Erik walking in front of him. Erik was a bit taller than the Frenchman, but the way the sunlight lit up their contrasts, dark and light, made a great picture. One to frame when he got home.
Thinking of home made him think of Brad and the extension management had offered him, but he wasn’t ready to contemplate any of it, so he took a few more photos and then caught up with the guys.
“When I arrived, I thought it was a joke,” Erik said as they approached their rental. “Who’d imagine turning a building like this into flats?”
“The British,” Didier said.
Jamie took a few pictures of the building and checked them. In the photos, the columns looked even more incredible.
Inside the compound, next to their front door, there was a stack of boxes addressed to Jamie from a local clothing store. “Coco works fast.”
They piled the boxes in the living room. There was a note attached to the top one.
I included shoes. I’m sure I got the sizes right,
but if you need to exchange anything, call and ask for Louis.
You owe me BIG-TIME.
Love you—
Coco
“They’re labeled,” Erik said, lifting the boxes to look at them. “There’s two boxes for each of us.”
“Coco is organized. Her closet is a thing of awe.” Jamie ripped off the tape from one of his boxes and pushed the tissue paper aside to look in. Neatly folded shirts in an array of blues, some with muted patterns or stripes. A few soft, faded designer T-shirts with classic bands on them. Three pairs of jeans and two casual cotton pants, one light and one dark. Solid turquoise-blue long swim trunks as well as one with small palm trees.