❛a preppy in nyc❜

ㅤ MAËLLE

ㅤ I feel like I’m at home. Even on the nineteenth floor, I can hear the muffled sound of sirens mixing with the noise of downtown Manhattan. The constancy of the car horns in traffic, the construction machinery in the middle of a construction site, or the aircraft engine passing overhead satiates the nostalgia that had been clinging to this place.

ㅤ It may sound crazy, but ever since I moved to a farm in the countryside of São Paulo, Brazil, because of Aleksei’s skittish temperament, I’ve realized how much I love the hustle and bustle of the big-city.

ㅤ I slide into the bathtub, finally finding a comfortable position to rest. The effects of the hot water are instantaneous, and I experience relief from the muscle pain that had been bothering me since yesterday. All the accumulated tension is gone, and all that remains is the feeling of being in a private paradise.

ㅤ I blow, in a great mood. “... Now that's tranquility and sophistication.” The deep relaxation would have pulled me to another astral plane if it hadn't been for Idalia’s voice in the other room.

ㅤ “Miss Rohan, it’s time to wake up,” she warns. I can guess her shock as she pulls back the sheets off the bed and doesn’t find me lying there.

ㅤ I take the robe hanging next to the bathtub to cover myself. The soft fabric hugs me comfortably. Answering her call, I shout, “I’m here!” The steam of the bath spreads through the room when I open it and walk through the door.

ㅤ “The agency called to schedule a meeting. I’ve confirmed your presence tomorrow morning” she informs. Beige tailoring pants, a brown belt, high heels, a dress shirt, and a khaki blazer perfectly dress Idalia.

ㅤ I hold out my hand, ready to ask for a moment of truce. God, I can’t bear to talk about work anymore! I grumble, feeling all the therapy of the hot bath being sucked away.

ㅤ It’s only been a day since New York Fashion Week ended, but here I am under this soft, warm comforter, scrolling through the comments on the photos I posted during the week. Even gossip sites and influencers’ reels don’t escape my attention this time. I think they know that I don’t give a damn about being labeled as a nepo baby. Deep down, I’m amused because I know very well that all the fuss about this title is envy.

ㅤ Any publicity is good publicity. The important thing is that they’re talking about me, I babble in thought. I feel the morning cold hitting me as soon as Idalia, in full professional mode, pulls the blanket that covered me from head to toe.

ㅤ “You only have two days before we board back to Brazil.”

ㅤ I mumble against the pillow, “That’s it? I haven’t even had time for a shopping spree yet...” Idalia wanders from one side to the other in the room. Laziness takes hold of every cell in my body, and all I can do is stretch out my arm to pick up the TV remote control. I suddenly sit up in bed, putting my cell phone aside. “What’s on my agenda today?”

ㅤ “For today—”

ㅤ I interrupt, “Preferably, only tell me what I want to hear.”

ㅤ I see her roll her eyes. “The Jenner sisters have invited you to a dinner party. Shall I confirm your attendance?”

ㅤ I gesture in agreement.

ㅤ “So that means I have the rest of the day off? How wonderful! What wonderful news!”

ㅤ “It's not quite that—”

ㅤ Finally, Idalia sighs, giving in to defeat.

ㅤ I crack a genuine smile of triumph. “What a wonderful day!”

ㅤ Idalia points to the pile of fan gifts left at the hotel reception and delivered earlier by the butler and room service. The smell of flowers fills the environment, and for a moment, I picture myself sitting in a Dutch tulip field.

ㅤ It reminds me that I need to call Aleksei. The guilt for not making a single call to my husband fills me with deep regret. I know that on the outside he can seem like the kind of tough guy who doesn’t know how to show or even deal with his own feelings, but I know him very well, and I know that at this hour he’s probably alone in the middle of the coffee plantation, grumbling at the plants like an abandoned puppy.

ㅤ Aleksei’s voice sounds like a melody when he calls my name from across the line. “Maëlle?”

ㅤ “Missed me, soulmate?” I hum excitedly, my tone becoming sweeter than usual. “Did I call you at a bad time?”

ㅤ He hesitates, and I get confused. This is one of those few times when he says more than a yes or a no. “That’s not it. It’s just...” he answers, but doesn’t complete what he’s about to say.

ㅤ “Did something happen?” I ask thoughtfully, and from the silence I know he’s become tense. “I’ll be home soon. So don’t worry so much, huh?”

ㅤ All I hear are a few murmurs coming from him, and this is clearly the result of an entire week of having to tolerate my parents’ pompous behavior on his own. I say goodbye hastily and hang up the call. Aleksei isn’t the kind of romantic who ends a call with an I love you too, but he’s undoubtedly one of the most devoted and faithful people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and that’s one of the many reasons why I married him.

ㅤ “He doesn’t really change, does he?” Idalia says.

ㅤ Rebuking her, “Don’t start, Lilah.” I leave my phone on the bed and get up. “He has a difficult personality, I know that, but look on the bright side... He’s not an asshole. Not like others.” The natural light illuminates the room and I allow myself to be drawn closer to the windows for a panoramic view of Central Park and Fifth Avenue. “You of all people know that I have a rotten finger for choosing men. Can’t you be optimistic and accept this miracle for once?”

ㅤ I do not hear her answer, so I consider she’s just given up on this discussion—which was wise, because there is no way I can come back on this subject.

ㅤ I’d trade anything, and anyone, for an afternoon of shopping on Madison Avenue. Today is Friday, and I’m more inspired than ever. I’ve been standing for a few minutes in front a gorgeously styled Chanel window display, mentally listing all the reasons why I need that bag... and those shoes... and the tweed set, of course. There’s absolutely no way I can walk away from that fancy-ass little dress right there.

ㅤ Idalia mutters, “What— what did you say? I can’t hear you” struggling to balance the many shopping bags. I grab the satin strap of the white-and-gold printed bag and gently move it away from her face so she can see me.

ㅤ “I said that...” I forget what I was saying, caught off guard by her exhausted expression. I try not to laugh. “Ah, you know what? Forget it. Let’s go in!” I exclaim, pulling her into the store.

ㅤ I’d love to stroll around in the open air, but walking in this cold is exhausting—especially with all these layers. I’m lucky I didn’t catch a cold after that stupid sunroof stunt. I’ve never shivered or clenched my teeth so much from the cold in my entire life.

ㅤ While Idalia rests and the sales assistant packs up my purchases, I feel my phone vibrate and hear the familiar ping of a notification. I read a preview of the message, and the contact name Jeanne Hamid appears: