In the summer of 1977, Parisian nights were alive with music and the scent of blooming jasmine in Saint-Mandé.
Young Claudette, just sixteen, spent countless hours with her headphones on, entranced by Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours. Her boyfriend François didn’t quite understand her obsession with the album. But for Claudette, it was more than music—it was a revelation.
Stevie Nicks’ voice wrapped her in an unfamiliar longing, a sense of freedom that whispered to her that love could be felt in ways she hadn’t considered. By the end of that summer, Claudette knew Stevie Nicks had awakened something within her—a hidden, delicate part that made her realize her attraction to women.
As the years passed, Claudette’s fascination with Stevie became part of her artistic soul. She grew into a luminous jazz singer, captivating audiences across Paris. In the summer of 1989, inspired by those youthful feelings, she penned a song she called Tea with Stevie, capturing her daydreams of sharing tea and secrets with the woman who had, unknowingly, shaped her heart.
In the winter of that year, Claudette debuted Tea with Stevie at the famed jazz club Le Duc des Lombards. The club was packed, the air thick with anticipation. François, now older, sat among the crowd, smiling as she took the stage. But Claudette’s gaze drifted beyond him to the back of the room, where a striking figure stood in the shadows—a woman in black with a corset that cinched her silhouette poetically, a top hat crowning blonde hair that peeked from beneath.
Claudette’s pulse quickened. Through the bright lights, she could make out the woman’s smile, warm and knowing, as if she was sending Claudette a silent message. Could it be… Stevie?
When the set ended, Claudette made her way through the applause, eager to find the mysterious guest. She reached the bar, but the woman was gone. Instead, the bartender handed her a card. “For you,” he said, grinning as he slid it into her hand. It was from the provocative Maison Souquet, a storied hotel in Montmartre once known as a luxurious hideaway.
On the back of the card, in elegant handwriting, was a note: “Tomorrow at 3 pm, let’s have some tea together.”
Heart racing, Claudette clutched the card, barely able to contain her joy as she whispered, “À demain.” Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. Whether the woman was Stevie or just a beautiful mystery, Claudette knew she was ready for whatever awaited her at tea.
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