Free Immortal Beauty by Thomas McDermott Page B

was something out of his past. There was a time in his life when he couldn’t sleep without drinking. To be more accurate, he couldn’t dream when he drank. All his life he was tormented by nightmares. Ever since he was little he would wake up in the middle of the night choking and screaming. After years of doctors and medications, he finally found out that if he drank enough booze, the dreams would cease to come. For a good ten years he lived his life this way but he could not keep up with it and the longer time went on, the more alcohol he needed. Last year he went for alcohol counseling and decided that the nightmares were better than dealing with the endless hangovers that plagued his life. He was an adult now. What harm could a dream do to him now? Even last night he had dreamed of violence. There was blood and death everywhere and he was desperately trying to find someone in all the chaos. He woke up screaming and the poor people in the room next to his called the desk thinking that someone was being murdered. He recovered quickly and tried to shake off the sense of fear an anxiety the dream had given him. He had a big day today. Celine wanted to meet him immediately. Of course, the official interview wasn’t for two more days, but he wanted to get as much information he could our of her and here she was making herself very available to him. As a reporter he knew a smoke screen when he saw one. There was something Celine didn’t want him to talk about. He would find out what it was and decide for himself if it was newsworthy. Besides, it’s always the stuff that people want to leave out of their story that makes it all the more interesting. He could make his colleague regret ever giving him this story. He had the feeling that this was going to be one of those really big stories. His gut instinct told him this the minute she saw the driver of his limo. Something big was about to break and he was going to be there when it did. He checked out his reflection in one of the mirrors in the car. He looked good. The bags under his eyes were gone and he was dressed in a semi formal fashion with a black blazer and a bright blue silk shirt and decidedly no tie. He even unbuttoned a few of the buttons to show a sense of recklessness but not enough to make him look like a gigolo. He was definitely vain and knew what worked with the ladies. Not that he had hundreds of lovers in his life but he certainly like the attention and the flattery. He checked one last time and brushed his hand through his dark hair slightly tousling it. He did not want to appear stiff and boring. He wanted to seem fresh and modern. He wanted to be someone that Celine D’Aumont would find attracting and amusing. Someone with whom she might let down her guard and reveal things that she might not reveal to another journalist . He was doing what he did best. He was working a story. He got out of the car and thanked the lovely woman Celine had sent to pick him up at the airport. For a moment he thought he caught her sizing him up. Aha! Finally a crack in that tough girl exterior. He had given up long before the car even pulled up to the hotel on the Champs Elysees. Yesterday she barely responded to his clever quips and playful discourse but then again he did look a fright. Today was very different. He was well rested and feeling on top of his game. He boldly have her a little wink which she ignored, but couldn’t help smile at his boyishness. He watched her drive off and took a good look around. People were moving in and out of the building with a sense of importance. This Celgen was a very busy place. The pace reminded him of Wall Street. He walked toward the glass and steel and was looking up at the edifice when a woman crashed into him almost knocking him to the ground.
    “ Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” The young woman with chestnut hair was reaching to the ground for her purse. Taylor was irritated but unruffled. “I hope you’re alright.” She