Odile St. Pierre

"All sins have their origin in a sense of inferiority otherwise called ambition." - Cesare Pavese

[odile-stpierre]

Odile St. Pierre in Versace New Year’s Eve at the Kingdom December 31, 2019

Escorted By: LOL

[odile-stpierre]

It seemed a glum mood had settled over the city since the last time she’d been present. Then again, she supposed that sentiment tended to follow the Russians wherever they decided to infect. It’d been a stressful time since her arrival; last-minute planning for the hotel opening topping her list of priorities. Didn’t mean she couldn’t sneak a drink now, though. Especially after overhearing the incessant moaning of someone further down the bar.

“It’s the end of a decade, and there are some people who plan on spending it on their couches. What happened, London? I thought you were supposed to be good for a party.”

It seemed a habit, frequenting a few bars in the city later in the evening, after she’d gotten all dolled up in her London apartment. It seemed her brother was ignoring her - either that, or he was wrapped up in the responsibilities that his new position required. 

Either way, Odile was bored.

Maybe that was why she’d taken to doing herself up and hitting the town, keeping her own personal score of how much she could get any given gentleman to spend on her. 

It was surprising, when she walked into the bar on that particular evening, she was surprised to see her best friend’s familiar face - Odile instantly grinned as she heard Aurélie speaking to herself.

“That’s the perception, but let me tell you... I haven’t found it to be the truth. Far from it, in fact.”

“And why, my dear friend, didn’t you tell me you were planning on coming to town? I missed you.”

[odile-stpierre]

Although Emilia’s heart was partly in Christmas in London and partly back home in Launcestion, she was determined to get the best of her holiday blues. She was usually the type that had everything planned to a T, a schedule on which she could rely and she was very rarely ever a procrastinator. However, time had gotten the best of her and she’d lost track of the days. Was forgetting to buy someone’s present until a few days before Christmas considered rude in some way? She had to wonder.

When she spotted Odile inside the cafe, she only had one bag in her hand, shopping still left to do. She walked over to the other woman and gave her a smile. “I know what you mean. I usually always make lists. If I did make one, it’s lost somewhere now.” She raised her eyebrow at the comment from the beautiful blonde.

She herself would never say out loud that someone wasn’t important, but she didn’t judge those who were harsh truth tellers. “I’m just hoping that at Maya’s party, I end up with something for everyone. I’ll feel terrible if I left someone out.”

Emilia’s raised brow didn’t go unnoticed by Odile, but the blonde greeted the familiar face with a smile, patting the chair opposite her spoils as an indication that she could sit, if she chose to. “It makes things all the more productive, that’s for certain - you look gorgeous, Emilia darling. It’s been a moment since I’ve seen you - I trust everything is well?”

Odile’s brows raised at the mention of a party, her curiosity piqued at the mention. “Maya is having a party? Do tell, darling. I just got back into town today, and I’m certainly out of the loop.”

[odile-stpierre]

“Ouch. That’s hurtful.”

Regardless of whether or not her words were directed at Gene, he spun around in his seat, cup of coffee in hand. Good thing he had such a tight grip on it, because hers was a face he knew – that was a face all his friends knew because they couldn’t shut up about how attractive it was. They weren’t wrong, of course, but her last name instilled a sort of primal terror within him which only the bottom of the food chain could experience.

Yeah. Bossman’s sister just told him he was unimportant. Cool, cool, cool.

Gene took a sip of coffee to mask his surprise upon seeing Odile before he put the mug aside. “Honestly at this point, I’ll even appreciate a letter filled with anthrax. At least I won’t have to deal with actual Christmas, then.”

The blonde sipped her espresso quietly, yet when the gentleman next to her spun around in her direction, it didn’t go unnoticed by her. She remained quiet, disguising her gaze behind her hooded lashes while she glanced at her phone absent-mindedly, her gaze meeting his when he finally did speak to her.

Odile chuckled lightly at his statement, not allowing the absence of the gentleman’s name reflect on her features. "That’s a bit grim, don’t you think? I’d be careful making comments like that in a place like this... you never know, you may just get what you ask for.”

[odile-stpierre]

Yvonne took notice of the blonde – she was gorgeous, it would be hard to miss her – when the latter took the table next to hers. However, the Rutherford would have moved on with her day without a second glance at the woman had the latter not began talking. 

Was she talking to her? Yvonne wondered as she looked around them to see who the blonde could have been speaking to. The absence of an answer prompted the brunette to flash a smile, however awkward, to the woman. 

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?”

Odile wasn’t paying much attention as the brunette sat down to the table, the Frenchwomen too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice Yvonne’s confusion. As she sipped her espresso her gaze fell upon the brunette, catching the awkward smile and her statement. It took her a moment to realize what had happened, and when she did, Odile could’t help but chuckle at herself, her expression softening before she spoke.

“I’m so sorry - I think all this Christmas shopping and holiday madness is getting to me. I was talking to myself - nothing directed at you, I promise.”

“I certainly hope you’ve had more luck with your shopping than I have.”

[odile-stpierre]

Odile settled herself into the chair at the cafe, the bags that she’d acquired on her shopping trip strewn carefully between one of the chairs next to her, the floor beneath her feet, and the table. The holiday shopping she’d been putting off had been the first thing on her agenda following her return to London, the realization that she could be spotted out and about before she announced her return to Laurent an opportunity that was far too entertaining to pass up. 

Just another way to get under his skin.

The barista took her order and she relaxed back against the chair, her blue eyes surveying the spoils of the day’s trip. “I certainly hope I remembered everyone... I absolutely should have made a list, but it’s too late for that.”

The barista delivered her espresso and she thanked him gently, a quiet shrug as the blonde smirked to herself. “I suppose if you don’t receive a gift from me, it’s safe to say you’re unimportant.”

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[leah-cultice]

[odile-stpierre]

“Odile?” Maya couldn’t help but smile as she realized that she was right about who was standing before her. Though when she heard her comment she exhaled deeply. It was incredibly unfortunate that she was right and while there hadn’t been another sight of the Russians Maya had known it wouldn’t be long before word got out. She nodded towards Mistrals.

 "Would you like to join me for lunch - on me?“

“Maya,” Odile’s expression lightened as she recognized Maya, a smile spreading across her face at the familiar face. “I’d love to - and I hope you’ll be able to fill me in on everything that happened while I’ve been gone. God knows Laurent will withhold anything important from me.”

[odile-stpierre]

“Then why are you?” It wasn’t as though he didn’t want his sister with him. Life in the mob was lonely at the best of times, so to isolate the one family member he had left was not at the top of his to-do list. Yet still, he couldn’t help but wish she hadn’t come back. The Russians had a penchant for making their victims suffer indirectly, and they’d used others to get to him before. Hurting his sister would be incomprehensible; a chance he was not willing to take. “Shouldn’t you be off somewhere fucking Italians, and perpetually disappointing me?”

The deep sigh that escaped her wasn’t something she could’ve contained, even if she’d wanted to. As much as she’d never admit to Laurent himself that she’d missed him, and although she knew her brother well enough to know where he was coming from, his words still irritated her.

Most likely, that was his intention.

“How do you know I wasn’t? At some point, I have to come back and rub it all in your face, that’s the most fun part for me.”

“Really, couldn’t you have just pretended to be happy to see me?”

[odile-stpierre]

Expectations for summer were always far too high, Ethan thought. People were ready to shed their skin of seasonal depression and begin again. Breathe again. Live again. Until they realized that all summer did was give old, fat men a justification to leave the house without a shirt on.

And, ah yes – along with summer came Russians. 

“I’m sure you’ll prevail.” She had to, even if it was only to raise the Russian’s ire. That was fun enough. “Besides, I’m sure there is something for you here, no? Why else would you return?”

A chuckle escaped Odile’s lips as she pondered his statement... it was the truth, wasn’t it? Why had she returned?

She went with the obvious answer.

“My family is here, yes... although I must admit I’m not sure they’ll appreciate my presence” she answered with a forced smile. “And you’re quite sure of yourself, as far as the Russians are concerned. Is that just wishful thinking?”

[odile-stpierre]

The attacks of Russian terrorist groups had been still fresh in every Londoner’s mind. But for past few months, they’ve seemed to have gone silent. Which is why, the words that she’d just overheard for a beautiful blonde woman sitting on the next table sent Elene into an enraged panic.

“Excuse me, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but did you just say… Russians?” 

If anything had happened, she’d heard by now. In fact, she’d probably be the first to be alerted and asked to report, if the Russian terrorists had resurfaced again.

The blonde’s delicate brows knit together as she turned around to the voice behind her, although as her first instinct was to chastise the woman for overhearing her off-handed conversation, even if it was only to herself, her intentions changed when she observed Elene’s expression. 

The discomfort at even Odile’s mention of the cretins was more than evident on her features.

“It’s just what I’ve heard... I’ve been away for quite awhile,” her tone was soft, and her expression matched it, surprisingly enough. “

“I take it you’re not a fan?”

[odile-stpierre]

Adrian had known Odile from Julien, and whilst they’ve never really become friends, they’ve been amicable. When he heard the news that Julien had cheated on Laure, and sparked up a romance with Odile, Adrian could barely believe the former Paris-based French loyalist who had confided in him in a random bar in Porto Velho. He’d always believed Laure and Julien were forever, but then again, weren’t him, Laure, Julien, and Évelyne meant to be forever, too?

“London doesn’t have the atmosphere of Paris, but lack of garbage in every corner certainly makes up for it,” Adrian spoke in their native French, “Hello, Odile. Long time no see. Not thrilled to be back, I see.” 

Hearing her native tongue in a setting other than her homeland should have at least brought a smile to Odile’s expression... however as her gaze fell upon the gentleman that was speaking to her, she couldn’t stop the wave of nausea that she felt overcome her suddenly. Adrian was, to say the least, not her biggest fan, and the reason that accompanied it was nearly impossible to block from her mind.

The frenchwoman couldn’t stop the slight tightening of her expression before she spoke, her voice colder than she intended. “Very true,” she mused with a raise of her brow, “I’m impressed with your positivity.”

“I have to admit Adrian, you’re quite possibly the last person I anticipated seeing here.”

[odile-stpierre]

“I thought returning at the beginning of summer would make this place more palatable,” Odile mused, more to herself than anyone else, “however it looks quite the same as it did when I left.” 

She’d be lying if she didn’t admit she’d missed Laurent, and the other members of her extended family... although she’d rather die than admit that to her brother.

“... and now there’s word of Russians. I’ll have to actively remind myself why I’m here.”

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[odile-stpierre]

He rarely had an issue with the weather—it was the weather—inconsiquential so long as it was doing what it always did: rain. He understood though, on rare occasions, when his mood was sour and the world wasn’t spinning quite right, that the lack of sun did no favors for the vexed. Instead, it sometimes seemed to delightfully weigh upon suffering, making one drag a soppy mess of realistic brooding to the surface.

But at that moment, with both hands dragging across his face, Silas was not a Romantic, and he did not give a single damn about the precipitation. In fact, the foreigner’s complaint left him slightly baffled; thankfully her accent did well in solving the woman’s unabashed bluntness. The Frenchwoman was unbelievably beautiful but moody. 

Fair.

“As a Brit, and a politician, my knee-jerk response is to tell you—you're wrong.” He smiled tiredly at her, finding it quite easy to look at someone with a face like her’s, and humored her. “But, you might have a point. Just for today.”

Her attention turned to the man that had taken a seat next to her, her brows raising at the first portion of his statement, however as he reached the end, coy smile crossed Odile’s lips. “A politician, yeah? Very prestigious.” His tired tone didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde, and her fingers toyed gently with the base of her martini glass. A politician... her interest was piqued. 

A smirk crossed Odile’s features as she rested her chin in her hand, “Just for today? You’re telling me, as a politician and a brit, that I can expect better from tomorrow, and the rest of the week thereafter?” A chuckle escaped her lips briefly, before she added, “I have to admit, I’m skeptical.” 

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