Paris and us

Chapter 4

Paris fashion week would be in 4 weeks.

I spent the whole week reviewing the proposals and preparing for the budget. Compared to the Haute Couture show, the prêt-à-porter show was relatively simple to organize. The venue was booked a year ago, the setting was the basic catwalk runway. After all, the clothes we sell were under 5000 euro, compared to the 200,000 euro formal gown that you wear to the Oscars. You get what you pay for.

I hadn't heard from Louis de Vallois during the whole week. He probably had picked up another girl during the week and forgot about our Friday night plan. I was relieved, but also disappointed. I shouldn't have expected anything from a womanizer like him.

A woman I hadn't seen before came to my cubicle and said, 'Miss Pelletier, Mr Aurélien Portier would like to see you, please come with me.'

I ignored Aurélien Portier's work emails. He requested a meeting time with me. I just clicked the decline button. Now he sent someone to drag me there. I did not want to make a scene. So I followed her like a guilty student walking to the principal's office.

In the elevator the woman took out her pass and pressed on the 29th floor, the Executive office. Only the top directors and executives can access this floor with a special pass. Aurélien must had an office here now, but I hadn't met him once so far.

The woman used the pass the open another glass door. We entered an open space office for the assistants. There were many office doors encircled the open space. This was where you found the big potatoes.

One office door opened, Mr Vallois came out. He raised his eyebrows. I nodded at him and just followed the woman to another office on the right corner.

"You may go in now," she gestured me to the door.

I knocked and opened it. There were full length windows behind him, showing the view of Paris. I could see L'Arc de Triomphe and Champs Élysée from where I stood.

Aurélien was sitting on the chair and reading something on his MacBook. He was wearing a white shirt with silver cuff links and a dark grey suit pants today. No tie. His left elbow was on the table. His long finger was caressing his chin, a posture that he did often when he was very concentrated.

He looked up and smiled, "Close the door, would you? Have a seat."

I walked to his side and my back leaned on his desk. My right hand was on his desk, if I moved five centimetres I could touch his hand. I looked at the view behind him to distract myself, and said, "Very nice view from here. My office could only see the windows of the other office building. How may I help you, Mr Portier?"

He smiled, a bit embarrassed perhaps, "I tried to reach you by emails but you never answered. I had to ask someone to bring you here,"

"I had been busy this week, it just slipped out of my mind to reply you." Never say no to your boss.

"How are you?" He asked.

"I am doing great. And you? Did you enjoy being a CEO and order those middle-aged executives around?"

"It was challenging indeed. I can see the resentment in their eyes, and my face is not intimidating enough. Sometimes I felt they don't take me seriously."

"Yeah, people will think you are just one of the new trainees, they probably want to ask you to do some photocopy job , if they didn't know who you are."

His face is so innocent and angelic, almost a bit childish. For me he was this young adult who loved playing Civilization on his computer. He probably partied every Friday night, and went skiing in winter break, just like any normal 27 years old would do. In reality, he was the boss of a multi-millions dollars company. What he earned in one day was what many people make in their whole life. The decisions he made could affect thousands of his employees. He wouldn't stop here in Mare, he would continue to achieve more. He would buy more companies and develop new businesses ventures. He would go to the director board of AP Group. He would ultimately become one of the richest man in the world, after his dad died. He would own a very large part of the world. Your handbag, your makeup, your wine, your clothes, and even your groceries were sold by one of his companies.