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I can wing it. I know I can.
"Olivier," I try again, "good morning." Junk, I already said that."I need to speak to you about what took place on Saturday, and the consequences of that event." That’s better.
"I see." He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. Is that a glint in his eye? Don’t look in his eyes. Too distracting. Stay focused on the speech.
"We both know that Saturday went exceptionally well. Both in terms of the service provided, as well as in my leadership and hostessing."
I don't think that's how I wrote it in the speech. Leadership and hostessing? That sounds weird.
Focus.
"I understand that the cost of the crystal which fell—" I'm not supposed to say that I made it fall, or that it was all my fault "—must be great."
"Indeed it is," he says with his chin lifted. I get it, he’s using the same tactics on me that I’m using on him. I meet your chin lift, Olivier Dubois, and I raise you another inch. He counters by raising his even higher. Pretty soon we’re going to be staring at the ceiling.
"You need to know," I start again, but I’ve lost my train of thought with all that chin lifting. Back to the main argument. "Look, I can't pay it back, Olivier. I don't have the money. I'm barely scraping by as it is.” Did I have to tell him that? “And I don't know what else I'm supposed to do, but there's absolutely no way—” Don't cry, don't cry.“So, I want to propose an arrangement that should be of mutual benefit to us both.” I cannot mess this up any worse than I already have. “It involves an agreement where my efforts to improve the public view of the Bouchon Noir through online presence of social media—” That doesn’t even make sense!
Olivier cuts me off. “I have a different proposition for you.”
This was not in the plan. I shut my mouth and gesture for him to go on.
He stands from the chair and sits against the table. He crosses his arms, the muscles bulging like he’s about to transform from Clark Kent into Superman. "It's a time-limited special project. You can repay the cost of the crystal by doing this special project for two weeks. At the end of those two weeks, your debt will be forgiven. I'll continue to pay your salary for your time, so financially it’s viable. There's only one condition."
Is this really happening? Is he giving me a way out?
"What's the condition?"
"You can't complain. Do you accept?"
“Yes!” I laugh and jump toward him.
Oh my word, what am I doing?
I am in his arms, pressed against his rock-hard abs, my head resting on his chest. Hugging your boss is as un-French as you can get.
On top of that, he's hugging me back—too tightly for me to just gracefully slip away.
His breath grazes my ear as he whispers. “Americans have such interesting ways of showing gratitude.”
CHAPTER 13
Olivier
“Slow down, Marcial,” I tap my driver’s shoulder. “Pass through the centre-ville.”
Natalie bites her lip, her eyes wide with wonder.
“We are nearly in the center of the city of Tours,” I explain, leaning in close enough that the scent of flowers rolls off her hair.
“Tours,” she repeats quietly, as though the word itself were poetry.
“Marcial,” I tap his shoulder again. “The scenic route.”
He nods.
We start along the river, the lushness of greenery even more pronounced this time of year. Wildflowers burst along the sides of the road, and plantain trees create a canopy over us.
“It’s beautiful,” she says, her voice hushed.
