I responded to him in French, asking if he had meant wine cellar.
His grin held a secret. “No.” He held out his arm for me to take.
I took it, but before we could really get started, he turned and gave Colette a pointed look.
“She is my guest,” I said in French.
“No.”
“We’ll be leaving then.”
I went to extract my arm from his but he held steady. He pressed a finger to his ear. A moment later, we began to move forward again.
Black tie led us to a room past the kitchen, which was wallpapered in velvet red swirls. His hands searched the wall, and when he felt whatever it was he had been looking for, he gave a push, sliding the paneling into the main wall, opening a doorway to another room.
He bowed to us, extending an arm, while we entered. Once we were through, the door shut quietly behind us.
This room was circular, empty save a leather sofa tracing the shape of the room for seating. It was exceptionally dark except for a red light that illuminated one spot on the floor. The walls seemed to mimic the others, wallpapered in velvet, but the ceiling seemed to be made of crimson roses. The smell was overwhelming.
Brigitte Bardot and Serge Gainsbourg sang “Bonnie and Clyde.”
A masked man stepped out of the shadows, continuing the bow. He held out a silver box lined with red velvet. Inside were rows of masquerade masks of all different colors, made from all different materials. I went to choose a black tulle number and he pulled the box back with, “Un moment.” He offered the box to Colette instead.
Colette scanned the masks as though her life depended upon it. She finally settled on one that was adorned with hot pink feathers and diamonds.
Once it was secured around her head, the host fell back into the shadows and then re-emerged with another silver box. This time he held it out for me. The delicate but sharp points of the black number protruded out of the box, reminding me of a mane made of swan feathers. The eyes were adorned with diamonds. Two glistening onyx stones decorated each temple.
I refused his help to secure it, instead asking Colette to do the honors. He gave a curt nod once we were done and then motioned to the darkness ahead of us. It was hard to tell the depths of the room; the lighting almost felt like a trick.
The most current host met us deeper in the shadows, giving another door a secret knock that revealed another room identical to the first one. This one had more red lights, and masked people sat along the sofa, sipping a drink that reminded me of sparkling seawater. The smell of anise—a liquorish tinge—hung in the air, covering the scent from the ceiling of roses.
If the door shut behind us, I was not aware. Another masked man stepped forward with a tray of the green drinks borne on a silver platter.
He bowed, offering up the assortment. “Mademoiselles.”
We each took a drink and thanked him.
The new host rose smoothly from his kowtow, staring into my eyes. “De tels yeux. Comme la boisson?”Such eyes. Like the drink?
Colette drank hers right away, a devilish smile coming to her lips. “Absinthe.” She licked her lips in a lavish way.
I sipped mine, the distinctive anise flavor strong on my tongue, but other flavors danced in the background—something floral, a bit spicy, with a bitter tang coming up third string.
The drink had just started to warm me when the host cleared his throat and the line of people rose to meet him. He cocked a finger at me, motioning me forward. Colette and I took first place.
We followed behind him down steep steps that descended into the earth. The only sounds were the padding of footsteps, the occasional heavy breath, and the hiss of flaming torches lighting the way.
The near silence seemed imposing; I allowed my hand to linger behind me, raking the coarse texture of the cool, uneven stone as we made our way further in. My heart pounded in slow, leaden drumbeats. My body lingered, relaxed and at ease.
Colette twisted her lips toward me. “La belle et la Bête,” she whispered.Beauty and The Beast.
Yes, I thought, but didn’t respond.I know a thing or two about a beast.
Finally, the steps opened up into a cavernous room. Torches continued to be the only light, throwing both luminosity and shadows over every crevice and corner. A bar that seemed built out of the formation rose up out of the ground; gilded chairs were placed here and there for seating.
Light music tinkled in the background. A circle had been drawn some paces away, and next to it, a long stage had been erected, nothing but a step up, mirrors behind it.
Our group separated, mixing and mingling with guests who must have arrived before us. I opened my mouth, ready to speak to Colette, but closed it with a snap. She had already left me solo.
