Free Coco Chanel Saved My Life by Danielle F. White Page B

have time for a coffee?”
    It wasn’t really coffee time, but I wanted to accept. I also thought of his letter, that I still had in my hand bag, but I was too embarrassed to give it back to him at that moment.
    We went into a very elegant bar and ordered two espressos.
    â€œI love Italian coffee. In Paris I have an Italian moka pot, and use it every morning.”
    â€œSo, are you from Paris? Do you go back often?” I began to feel very curious about this man.
    â€œEvery time I can.” I heard a slight teasing tone in his voice.
    â€œDo you have relatives there?” I couldn’t confess that I had read his letter and knew he had a passionate fiancée.
    He looked at me, perplexed. “I have my family there.”
    Ok. He didn’t want to talk about Juliette. It was his business and of course I wanted to respect his privacy. At least this time!
    â€œDo you have a boyfriend?”
    I was taken aback. He was very straightforward!
    â€œNo, I’m taking a course to learn how to be independent!” I tried to be funny. I couldn’t confess to this fascinating man that I had been rejected by all the men I had met.
    â€œI like independent women.” His smile was so charming that I started to feel butterflies in my stomach.
    We got out of the bar and kept walking and chatting. It was pleasant. We were in via Sant’Andrea and I stopped to look at the Chanel boutique window. The collection was faithful to Coco’s original spirit: black and white dominated, and there were long strings of pearls round the mannequins necks.
    â€œI adore Chanel,” I confessed, while he was looking at the window with interest. “In Venice I had an aunt who wore only Chanel. She had been educated in a boarding school where all the teachers were dressed in severe little black dresses. She got so fascinated by this look that for the rest of her life she bought only Chanel clothes. She always had six strings of pearls round her neck and smoked long, thin cigarettes. I was her only niece and, when I was a kid, she let me try on all her beautiful dresses, tweed jackets with golden buttons and elegant knee-length skirts. She gave me the nickname, Coco. She died a few years ago. All her things went to an auction house. She was in debt because she had always lived beyond her means. Yet before dying, she gave me an important gift: her vintage Chanel 2.55 handbag. I still have it as a keepsake.”
    â€œIt’s a beautiful story. So, may I call you Coco?”
    I smiled, blushing. He could call me any name he wanted with that warm, sensual voice!
    â€œSince you know Chanel so well, do you mind being my personal shopper? I have to buy a gift for my mother and I’m still undecided. I leave for Paris tomorrow. We are having a birthday dinner for her that evening.”
    â€œAre you sure? I think Chanel prices are pretty crazy…”
    Having a small budget for my clothes, I never really went into a Chanel boutique. I only looked in the windows.
    He laughed. “I have some savings…”
    â€œPerfect!” I was excited. I was going to shop in the boutique of my dreams.
    We looked around the store: classic tailored suits, black and white sheath dresses and incredible evening gowns.
    â€œThat is you…” he said, while I was holding up a little black dress in front of me and looking in the mirror.
    â€œThank you. That’s a great compliment.”
    â€œSomehow you seem to come from another era. You remind me of my mother and her girlfriends in vintage black and white photographs.”
    Shit! Was he telling me I looked old?
    â€œWell, that’s not something a woman usually wants to hear…”
    â€œOh no! I’m sorry. I meant to say that you have a timeless charm.” He was sweet and kind, and I kept blushing.
    Then we started to look at accessories: beautiful pins shaped like camellias, elegant leather gloves and wonderful hats.
    â€œHow do