PRINCELESS by Cam Jace Storykiller

Chapter 31

Copyright©by Cameron Jace 2019

Venus Wilde’s Diary Part 3

Friday, Paris, 8PM:

Back home!

Pierre cooked for me today, wearing nothing but overalls. He was a skinny man. Ripped but without the muscles. We once had a playful fight and I realized I could accidentally kill him. No fighting skills whatsoever.

“Lasagna, baby?” he teased me with the pan in his hand. He was a great cook, and baked sinfully delicious bread.

“I think I know what you should do for a living,” I said, sipping wine and watching him cook. “You should open a restaurant in Paris.”

“And call it Venusian Cousine.”

“You’re a fool,” I was getting tipsy. “Use your name, and I will fund it.”

Pierre suddenly stopped cooking, gloom draping down his face.

“You messed up the lasagna?”

“Please don’t mention money every again, Venus,” he sounded bitter.

“Oh, I was just… joking?”

“I know you were but I hate it when I stay with you in your hotel, you pay most of the expensive travels, and all this. I only do it because I want to spend time with you—“

“Pierre, it was just a joke.”

“Yes, but I’m not happy about it.”

“Come on, seriously?”

He turned off the stove and put the pan on the side, then pulled off his cooking gloves and took off his overalls, disappearing into the bathroom.

“Pierre?” Did I sound snobby, drinking too much wine? I was drinking so I wouldn’t think about the tattoo on the man’s hand. Too many riddles had presented themselves in my life all of a sudden. “Are you mad?”

The bathroom’s door sprang open.

Fully dressed, Pierre walked out, heading for the hotel room’s main door.

“Pierre, this is ridiculous,” I followed him. “We’ve never fought before.”

“Maybe we should have.”

“What’s this all about? I’m sorry if I offended you but—“

“What do you do, Venus?” Pierre stood me up.

I struggled to balance myself on my feet. The question hit me right between my drunken eyes.

“You know what I do, Pierre. I’m a—“

“A Goodwill Ambassador.”

“Yes.”

“In a nameless organization that you can’t talk about.”

“Yes.”

“My mother works for Unicef. She is a Goodwill Ambassador, too. She doesn’t make this much money.”

“Huh?” I needed to sit.

“She doesn’t travel every other day like you, and it took her twenty years to achieve her position.”

“I told you my uncle is a professor. He is rich…”

“You never tell me where you are,” Pierre insisted. “Or with whom.”

“Come on, babe. Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I just discovered that I don’t really know you.”

“See?” I tried to compose myself and wave a playful finger at him. “I brought this up a few days back when I asked if you would still like me if you knew bad things about me.”

“I don’t mind knowing bad things about you, Venus. I mind not knowing anything.”

The glass of wine slipped through my fingers. I stared as it shattered to pieces. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Pierre said. “Maybe you need time to explain things to me.”

“Thank you. I do need time.”

“Then take your time and think about how you will explain this,” He dropped my LEGO gun on the table. “I didn’t know what it was at first. Then when I put it together I realized what it was. Not one toy store in Paris sold something like it.”

Shit. I forgot to pack this away.

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