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It’s November 9, almost 9 p.m. Clementine insisted I head over to her duplex in the Opéra neighborhood for “a quiet celebration, just the two of us.”
Yeah, right.
They’re all there, pointy party hats on their heads, and either cheerful or teasing smiles on their faces.
Basile is the first to come over and give me a peck on the cheek, while patting me on the head condescendingly. “Thirty-one years old, little sister. It’s the beginning of the end.”
“Oh, shut up, you buzzkill!” scolds Lily as she hugs me.
“Glass of bubbly?” Clementine chirps, not the least bit sorry for luring me into this ambush.
“Sorry for tricking you,” Yann whispers, confiscating his wife’s champagne flute. “Here, drink this before Clem does!”
I do my duty and bring the sparkling wine to my lips.
“Let me through! I haven’t said hello to the VIP yet!”
Niels, in his gold-sequined sweater, weaves his way through the guests. Already a little tipsy, he throws himself at me with a dramatic groan.
“Alma, I got groped by some gross guy on the metro, and then a kid puked his Happy Meal onto my Dr. Martens! Please, marry me and take me far away from here with your senior executive salary! I’ll be the best kept man you could ever imagine!”
Everyone around us laughs. What a romantic.
“That’s the most beautiful marriage proposal I’ve ever had!” I exclaim.
We fall into each other’s arms, and it’s not long before Clem joins in to make it a group hug.
She confesses to us that, in order to get everything ready, she sent her twin daughters to stay with their grandparents for two days… and that she’s never felt better. She’s transformed her place into a giant dancefloor, complete with a disco ball and neon streamers—all for me. Sophie, Clarence, and Maximilian arrive around 10 p.m., carrying a bouquet of flowers and several bottles between them.
“Happy birthday to you, Miss Director!” Clarence croons, imitating Marilyn Monroe’s sultry voice.
“Alma, you would not believe how crazy he drove us in the cab! He practiced that song for twenty minutes straight!”
Sophie kisses me and disappears into the crowd. I’ve never met anyone so extraordinarily sociable.
“Like all geniuses, I’m misunderstood,” Clarence grumbles.
My coworkers quickly strike up conversations with Lily, Basile, Yann, and Niels. I take the opportunity to pull the party planner aside and interrogate her.
“Thank you for all this,” I say, sweeping my gaze across the huge room.
“There’s no need for thanks, Alma. Not between friends like us.”
“Was the final surprise my coworkers showing up?”
“Yes! You introduced me to them at the salsa party, remember? I’d already planned everything, but I got Sophie’s number then.”
“Clem, you didn’t invite you-know-who, did you?”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course not. I’m pregnant, not stupid!”
I smile at her, relieved.
“I had to restrain myself,” she adds. “I wanted to invite all your friends, but I settled for your inner circle. If it were up to me, there’d be fifty of us shaking our asses in my living room! But I don’t think you would have liked that, and besides, my dear husband put his foot down…”
“You did the right thing. All my favorite people are here. Well, I don’t know if I’d put Basile in that category, but he’s my brother, so let’s just say I put up with him. What surprises me most is that Maximilian came.”
“Really? I thought you two had become friends during your trip to L.A.”
