Beneath The Orange Sunset ✔️

45

~45~

Henrietta Cuomo was in Paris, and she was trying her best to focus on a whole new set of adventures. She had not spoken to anyone about this new development not even to her family at Mexico.

She had said goodbye and called it quits from the ruthless queen of rage, Emile Lacroix - no regrets, though the pay was good - but she wasn't about to risk her life for rich people with unending problems.

So she was now working in a food mart, in the middle of the city hoping she won't - for the love of God - meet anybody from the Lacroix family.

She was fifteen minutes early as usual on her work days. She wore a rubber hand glove and covered her small face with a protective transparent face mask. She quickly began to clean out the fruit and food racks. Next she set the fruits and vegetables in order. She restocked the refrigerator with more ice cream and then moved to the meat section where she replaced all old supplies with new deliveries.

She returned to her desk to check if there were any missing items from the previous day. Customers were fond of forgetting or purposely leaving their belongings at different locations in the store. Among the old grocery payslips and paper clips she found a small yellow and blue wallet. She unlocked the miniature side zip and brought out an ID. The photo was quite old. The letters of the name was blurry. She tossed it back inside the  drawer and got back to work.

Few minutes later, the door swung open and a young woman walked in. She was fully dressed for work.

"Hey... Good morning." The woman waved her woolen gloved hands at Henrietta.

Henrietta looked up to see there familiar face beaming at her on the corner. She smiled back.

"Good morning. You're early?" Henrietta asked.

"Yes, I am on my way to work but I think I might have dropped my wallet somewhere here. Did you happen to see it?"

"Just a minute."

Henrietta walked back to her desk and quickly fished out the wallet. She waved it at the woman who nodded happily.

"Yes. Thank you so much for keeping it." The woman quickly trotted out the store.

"Have a nice day," Henrietta called behind her. She walked towards the door. Her eyes caught her silhouette of a man standing  beside the store, in dark overcoat, puffing smoke in the air. Isn't it too early to smoke? Henrietta wondered. His attention was the woman who just left the store. He watched her till she crossed to the other side of the road and got into a taxi.

Henrietta thought it was odd for a man to stand strangely in front of the store. She was about to go confront the man when he tossed the burnt out half of the cigarette stick in a bin close by and walked away in the opposite direction.

~~~~~~~

Was that Lacroix voice?

It can't be.

It was really Maxime's voice.

It's Maxime. He is alive!

The runaway best friend of Alberte Lacroix, attorney of the Lacroix empire, Sebastian Denis couldn't believe he just heard the distinct soft voice of Maxime, the only son of his late friend. The emotions he felt at moment almost brought tears to his eyes.