Jeff's Cloud 9

Dear journal,

It was my first time working at an exclusive "club" like this. Beautiful women came here to be made famous. It was an image-building site where their lives and activities were planned out, even to who they would be seen with in public. They paid nothing for this "service", unless you counted the surrendering of their free wills to their managers, their owners, for the attainment of their dreams of fame, stardom, love by millions replacing the love of one, that sort of thing.

There were jobs that guys could get here of course. Guys were hired as body guards, waiters, repairmen, photographers, make-up artists, clothing designers... god, the job potentials were unlimited. The most coveted was that of "public escort." Not just anyone could get that. A guy had to be absolutely good looking in some way or other... the romantic sort, the rugged sort, or have some kind of "theme." And there were times, certain timing or "finicky" emergencies we will call them, that any guy that met a certain level of "credentials", ie: intelligence, acceptable looks, knowing how to be there and be inconspicuous, so as not to steal the stage from the princess-to-be, could be commandeered for an emergency.

Then there's me, my name's Jeff. I work here doing basically what would be called interior design, but they say I set the mood. Nice, huh. I'm no hunk, no snappy dresser, or anything else "catchy." Mostly I'm here, behind the scenes, maybe catching a sight or two of some beautiful princess working on her turn at "world love." Here in my jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers. Maybe with sample books in my arms, even smelling of paint at times. Or loaded down with knick-knacks I've shopped for to use in a particular setting. That's me, invisible.

Then, out of nowhere one of those beauties stole my heart. It wasn't my doing, I sware. It wasn't even intentional on her part. It was a busier day than usual, one of those that everything, I mean EVERYthing goes wrong! Things that had been set for delivery didn't show. Colors came out wrong. Some thing that COULD NOT be used because someone was allergic, or picky, just appeared at the last moment. You know the kind of day. Well, it was just like that this day. The day she showed up.

Her name was Chryssa. Beautiful, huh? I thought so, but not quite her either. Seemed out of sync with her somehow. But what the hey, SHE was beautiful... she made the name beautiful, you know. Her name could have Mortimer and I'd have loved it just the same.

Well, anyway, I was there in my jeans, t-shirt, sneakers and paint that day, and in she came, surrounded by the regular flurry of "assistants" they call them here. People to do make-up, schedules, make arrangements for one thing and another, her manager... his assistants. They came to a stop just a few yards from where I was going over my drawings for a setting I was working on that just would not come together. I ignored the racket they made, and god, the racket such little "gaggles" made: they were like gaggles of geese flying by on their way south, or north, wherever, honking all the time, each one with something to say, and seemingly no one listening.

But when Chryssa spoke, I listened. My heart missed a beat... I held my breath, waiting for her next word. I didn't even move from what I was doing. I just froze, every part of my body focused on listening for her next word. All she had said was, "But I can't go alone." What words, magical words. They had cast a spell over me in their speaking that I will never forget. Me, Jeff, the so-very ordinary looking "setting creator." The silence that followed them was deafening as the entire gaggle, excuse me, group, realized she was right. They were trying to arrange an outing where she would be seen by all the "right people", and her regular escort, one she'd selected all so carefully, that had met the approval of her very wealthy, protective parents, was out tonight... would you believe it, sick.

Then came the next words... these caused my heart to begin to race, panic, run away... I mean, literally run away! Nance, the really great staff person I had the blessedness to have over me, as she always kept anyone from taking my head off in a fit of passion because PINK had been used somewhere in a setting, or because the princess's mood had changed over lunch and the exact creation of what she'd wanted for a particular setting no longer suited her... Nance, the one person there that I would have been willing to chance calling my friend, said, "Jeff..." I turned and looked at her, the group turned and look at me as she stood there pointing at me, hunched over my drawing table. Not one of us spoke, all dumbfounded and speechless in our awe at her suggestion.

She smiled just a bit, and I sware I saw her wink at me as she continued. "Jeff would be perfect. He's a setting creator, and he has a natural intuition for moods, needs, for appropriateness. And he will meet with your parents approval, Chryssa, I'm sure of it. Plus, he is cleared to be used as an escort if needed." I swallowed, everything going dark about me. My mind swirled... she was the most incredibly beautiful woman I had ever seen, more than I could have imagined... and I had come here to do interior design! I knew I was no hunk, no "prince charming!"

What did Nance have in mind putting me in this situation? Then Nance was coming over to me. I had not uttered a sound yet. I couldn't. She had me stand up, walked me over to the still silent group, and as if we were children, introduced Chryssa and myself. I blushed, offered my hand, and said it was a pleasure to meet her. She just almost smiled, a bit wary and gave me her hand. I bowed, and kissed it! God, I did it as naturally as if I were playing out some fairy tale story.

As soon as I did I heard a sigh of delight escape Chryssa. I raised up, looked at all of their faces... disbelief, disgust, and then I came to hers in the midst of them. She was aglow, smiling at me. Looking into my eyes and smiling. My heart almost leapt from me! Nance separated our hands... I hadn't realized I was still holding her hand! I dropped my face, utterly embarrassed, my head throbbing now, no telling how high my blood pressure was. I felt nausea churning my stomach up. Nope, not now, old pal. No throwing up now, went thru my head.

I heard Nance talking again. "Jeff will be perfect. I assure you. Don't you think so, Chryssa?" I listened... that instant of time as I listened for her answer seemed an excruciating eternity, and then I heard her sweet voice saying, "I think he's nice. I think he's perfect." I looked up into her face, and was lost. I was such a totally lost cause I tell you. It didn't matter what anyone else thought then. Not even me.

"Jeff. Jeff." Nance touched my arm to get my attention. I caught a glance of Chryssa smiling as Nance had to physically get me to look at and listen to her. "You have an appropriate suit, don't you? I'm sure you do. If not I'll take care of it. Now why don't you run down to the showers, get cleaned up. Be sure and get the paint gone... including the smell, will you." She was smiling at me, smiling like she knew just what she was doing. I blinked, nodded, and said, "Yes, ma'am." Chryssa giggled at my polite response, my submissive response. I looked at her, and grinned.

She giggled again, and then the "gaggle" moved on, taking her away as their honking took up where it had left off, filling the air. But not just where I was. All I heard was, "I think he's nice. I think he's perfect" with a gentle giggling in the background. I was on that infamous "cloud 9" and had no care for whatever else happened around me.

Nance gave a look back at me, with a bit of a frown, she said, "Now, Jeff. Go get cleaned up now. I'll expect you in a half hour, my office." She made a shoo-ing gesture with her hand, then smiled and winked at me again before turning her attention back to the others. As I began to feel my body coming back to life, back into the present moment, I saw Chryssa look back at me. She sent me a warm smile, and a twinkling of her eyes. My heart leapt into the air, carrying me with it by the heart strings and I shouted with sheer, unadulterated delight.

I heard laughter as I stood again on my feet... I didn't care. They could laugh. I had a date with my own princess tonight! Charming, I thought to myself as I headed off to the showers. Prince Charming is what I am tonight... ha, and Nance had turned out to be my own fairy godmother! Thank you, fairy godmother, for the introduction! I could take it from here....