Because Vansy demanded a continuation to this.
At a cafe near Centre Pompidou, on a large sidewalk filled with metal folding chairs and tables, the last of the lunch crowd finished their coffees in conversations while a portly waiter in white shirt and bow tie took away dishes and refilled drinks one last time.
Near the wall in the shade, greying hair at the temples, Joey read the lines from a new play for the thousandth time, muttering to himself.
A tall woman approached him, impeccably dressed in the latest fashion, leather boots and matching Louis Vuitton handbag. She stopped a moment and smiled, watching him memorise his lines.
As though her presenced disturbed him he suddenly looked up. A wide smile replaced the wrinkles from his face.
"I'm sorry I'm late" she smiled embarassed "You know the French, always late..."
Joey hadn't lost his New York accent "Oh, I know, believe me, I know."
She sat at the table, placing her bag on the chair, then took out her Macbook Pro.
He lifted his hand but the waiter was already coming with Rachel's salmon salad and a glass bottle of Evian.
"Oh crap I have a meeting with the French Finance Minister's wife at three!" and she started on her salad with the fork.
Joey put away the script on his lap and looked at her smiling.
Salmon in her mouth, Rachel said "What?"
"Look at you! Who would have thought you'd be Louis Vuitton account executive for the entire French government! Remember we were so broke in New York?"
A shadow crossed her face. "We've come a long way, you and I, haven't we?"
Joey's face took on a dreamy air, as though the smell of the NYC subway slowly drifted nearby.
She pointed at the script with her fork: "And you, look at you, playing at Palais Garnier with the Les Miserables Ensemble!"
His smile grew shy and embarassed. "Oh, you know, they do all the work. Hey at least there's no elevator shafts to put my character in a coma this time!"
Eye on her iPhone, she exclaimed "Oh shoot I have to go!"
Joey was on his feet. At the sidewalk he hailed a cab with the practiced waive of the impatient New Yorker on LaFayette Street. "Taxi!"
He opened the door for her and as she scrambled to put everything away "You'll bring the rest of the salad, yes?"
"Of course, of course!"
"And you're playing tomorrow night?"
She patted her bag "I have my ticket! Wouldn't miss it."
She reached her free hand to his neck and kissed him while smiling.
"Go, you're gonna be late!"
Rachel sat in the taxi and he closed the door.
"I'll see you at home tonight."
She blew him a kiss through the window as the taxi sped away, and he stood there a moment with a childish grin on his face.
If Chandler could see us now...
© 2017 Christopher Mahan
The Characters Joey, Rachel, and Chandler belong to their rightful copyright owners, of course.