current bob. The dress was gorgeous enough on its own, so the hair stylist only straightened her hair. Her makeup was kept simple and glowing.
Their dates had been ready long ago. Arthur and Henri were sitting in the living room wearing dashing tuxedos, drinking beer and watching a soccer game on TV.
When the girls stepped out from Madeleine’s bedroom, the boys stood up. Madeleine’s boyfriend Henri must’ve been used to seeing Madeleine all glammed up because he only made a small comment about how pretty she was and turned back to the TV.
Arthur on the other hand couldn’t stop staring.
“Cut it out,” Clémence said, laughing.
“Wow, that dress on you…wow.”
Clémence blushed. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”
“Extremely early, you mean.” Henri said.
Madeleine had a limousine drive the four of them to the Grand Palais.
The Grand Palais was an exhibition hall in the 8 th arrondissement that hosted various art and photography exhibitions throughout the year. The architecture of the building was both classical and modern, with a stone facade and art nouveau ironwork. With its glass barrel-vaulted roof, the Grand Palais always reminded Clémence of a fancy and massive green house.
When they pulled up behind a pile of other limos and cars, they could see the red carpet rolled out by the grand entrance, and the photographers who lined around it, behind the velvet rope.
“Have you ever been to this kind of thing?” Clémence asked Arthur.
“ Jamais ,” said Arthur. “Never. I rarely get invited to these things, and when I do, I ignore them.”
Clémence smiled. Arthur was a bit anti-social, but that was what she liked about him. For someone in his social class, he was unfazed by the superficial things that impressed others, unlike Mathieu, whom she was still worried she would run into.
They thought they were going to be early, but apparently they were right on time. The cameras were blinding, and Clémence tried to smile through it all. This was more overwhelming than any event she’d been to in the past. She was holding Arthur’s hand very tightly. She couldn’t tell whose hand was sweating more.
Arthur found it difficult to muster a smile for the cameras, despite the paparazzi telling him to do so. He wasn’t the type to smile on command. When they walked up the stairs behind Madeleine and Henri into the front doors of the Grand Palais, she was relieved beyond words. She didn’t know how real celebrities do it. They must’ve had to use extra-strong antiperspirants too.
The inside was air-conditioned and she started to cool down. Livia’s family had sponsored the “The Royal Jewels”, an exhibit which featured extravagant jewelry from members of the royal family all across Europe.
The first thing that greeted them in the grand hall was a striking piece of modern art: a giant fake diamond hung from the ceiling. It must’ve been over 25 feet tall. A full orchestra played Beethoven’s fourth symphony on the stage, above the great staircase. Clémence looked around for Livia Egle. She wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
They each took a glass of champagne from the bar and admired the space. Clémence hadn’t been inside the Grand Palais for years and had forgotten just how awe-inspiring it was. If the Grand Palais was a massive greenhouse, she was a humble lavender flower. Red and blue lights projected onto the glass roof. When the sky became completely dark, it was going to look incredible to the pedestrians outside.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” said Madeleine. “I haven’t been here since the Chanel fashion show. There’s always something crazy and interesting happening here.”
“If only that was real.” Clémence pointed to the huge diamond suspended in the air.
The girls admired the diamond tiaras, the glittering necklaces and the rings, each enclosed in separate glass cases.
“Diamonds are princesses