Chapter eight
Rylee
You got this.
“B onjour, Miss Rylee.” Bertrand’s already waiting outside when I step out.
“Bonjour, Bertrand, I made you something to thank you for sending the candles to my room.” I pass him the container as he opens the car door for me.
He’d called me over the weekend, letting me know he was picking me up on Monday. No explanation, just a matter of fact. I didn’t ask questions I wouldn’t get answers to. I think my new boss is a little obsessed with me. I was planning on reaching out to him anyway to give him the Tres Leches cake I baked as a thank you.
A small crease appears on his brow as he takes it. “Thank you, miss, but I didn’t send candles to your room.”
“Oh.” Maybe it was a coincidence. “Well, I hope you enjoy it anyway.”
“I’m sure I will,” he says as he closes the door behind me, and I settle into my seat.
The drive takes about fifteen minutes, and soon Bertrand pulls up to a tall, sleek building. Its glass facade catches the early light. He parks the car before glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “We’re here, Miss Rylee.”
I stare out the window, heart picking up speed as I take in the faint reflection of myself sitting here. My hands feel damp, and I press my palms against my pants, fingers fidgeting against the fabric.
“Do you need a minute?”
I draw a long breath, filling my lungs, then let it out slowly, shaking my hands in my lap to release the nerves. “I’m ready. And no need to get out. I got it.” I push the door open. “Merci, Bertrand.” I smile at him before stepping out.
“Have a nice day, Miss Rylee. You’re going to do great.” He calls after me.
I glance up at the building, taking in the beautiful molding and the arched doorway with black accents. I step forward, expecting the door to open automatically. It doesn’t. I try pushing, but nothing. I pull it, and it finally opens. I step inside. The lobby is elegant, with high ceilings and gorgeous fashion artwork. Soft music plays in the background, and the sweet scent of fresh flowers fills the air. There’s a sitting area with beautiful ivory plush sofas.
A man sitting behind a reception desk looks up at me, a knowing smile hinting that he probably witnessed me struggling with the door.
I pull my shoulders back and lift my chin up as I walk toward him with a smile.
“Bonjour,” he says. “You must be Rylee,” he continues in French.
I mentally switch my brain to French. “Oui, c’est moi (Yes, it’s me).” My French is rough around the edges, but it’s understandable. It doesn’t come to me as easily as Spanish. I grew up around Spanish, and I can switch between it and English effortlessly. With French, I have to translate everything in my head first.
“May I see your identification, please?” He gestures toward my bag.
“Bien sur (Of course).” I hand over my passport, and he scans it briefly before pressing a button on the phone beside him.
“She’s here,” he says quietly.
The elevator doors to my right open, and a tall blond man steps out. He’s wearing a pink floral blazer over a white shirt with khaki pants.
“Bonjour, Rylee! I’m Leon.”
I hesitate, unsure which language to use, but settle on French. “Nice to meet you, Leon.” My accent earns a warm smile.
“You’re welcome to speak English, if you’d prefer,” he says. “I’m not saying your French is no good—it’s perfect! I just want you to be comfortable.”
I let out a small laugh. “Good to know. My French is… let’s say, a work in progress.”
He chuckles, grabbing a card from the security desk and gesturing for me to follow him.
“This is your key card.” Leon hands it to me with a slight nod. “It gives you access to the elevator, which will take you to your floor, your office, and the amenities floor.” His eyes light up with enthusiasm as he continues. “That’s where you’ll find the café, massage chairs, library, and my favorite spot—but I’ll save that surprise for later.” He flashes a quick grin before scanning his card to open the elevator, and we step inside.
Once we are in, he scans it again to select the marketing floor on the screen. I take in the high-tech elevator. This is a far cry from my old company. Everything feels surreal. I’ve still yet to meet the mysterious boss, but I’m already in awe.
Leon catches me looking around, a slight smirk on his lips as he glances down at my outfit. “I love the pink! Looks like we have similar taste.” He raises his eyebrows playfully, giving his blazer a quick tug.
A little of the tension melts away as we share a quick grin. When the doors open onto a bright, open workspace, I step out, heart pounding again as I take everything in. People look up from their desks, some smiling in welcome, while others nod as Leon introduces me to each team member, naming their departments as we go.
I’m amazed by the different departments—Social Media and Digital Content, Brand Strategy, Public Relations, E-commerce, Creative Production, Market Research, and Luxury Client Services. I try to match each name to a face, nodding and smiling.
At my old job, two other employees and I handled everything. This is a dream.
Leon gives me an encouraging wink as he introduces me to the next group. After meeting everyone, I follow him to another elevator.
“Next stop, the amenities,” he says, scanning his badge again. We head up one floor.
If the marketing floor took my breath away, this floor knocks the air out of me. It looks more like the lobby of a luxury hotel than a workplace.
There’s a café, like Leon mentioned—but I’d imagined a small coffee maker tucked into a corner. At my last job, the “coffee station” was a neglected machine that barely worked. Here, they have an actual café with a full menu and baristas.
Leon leads me around, pointing out each area: a gym, a massage room, a cozy library, and a game room. I’m not sure if people come here to work or to have the time of their lives. There’s even a chill room with a massive flat-screen TV and plush armchairs.
“This is… wow,” I gasp, taking it all in.
Leon chuckles at my expression. “Next stop, your office.”
I follow him, expecting to return to the marketing floor, but we enter another elevator and ride up to the top. We pass what Leon says is the meeting room. There’s a large office across from mine.
“Whose office is that?” I point toward it.
“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.” He smiles at me.
Great. Another mystery. I bite back my thoughts as I follow him inside to what is apparently my office. Through the glass window, the Eiffel Tower rises in the distance. Behind it, the sky is a pale blue that melts into the soft gold of the morning sun.
On the right of the office, there’s a white desk with a vase of flowers, peonies and forget-me-nots, and a welcome bag. How did they know those were my favorites? There’s a small sitting area on the left with two couches and some green plants bringing life to the space.
“Are you sure this is my office?” The words slip out before I can stop them; it’s the same question I’ve been asking since I got here.
“I’ll let you settle in.” He chuckles. “Mr. Lucien will let you know when he’s ready to see you.”
Lucien? Why does that name sound so familiar? So, I’m finally going to meet the mysterious boss. Leon steps out, leaving me alone in my office.
I pinch my arm to make sure this is real and that I haven’t somehow slipped into an alternate reality. Taking out my phone, I record a quick video to send to my sister. She’s going to lose it. She nearly passed out when I showed her my apartment, and she promised to beg our mom to let her visit. With a new boyfriend, maybe she’ll be in a good mood and let her come.
Carefully, I lower myself into the chair, perching at the edge before leaning back fully. Oh my God, it’s like sitting on clouds. I can’t help but twirl a little, stifling a laugh.
Then, suddenly, that strange feeling hits, like someone is watching me. A chill prickles across my skin, and goose bumps form on my arms. My eyes drift to the glass office across from mine, my own reflection staring back at me. If someone’s in there, I can’t see them.
But I can’t help but feel like someone is studying me. Maybe it’s my emotions getting the best of me.