43. Chapter 43
forty-three
“ D o you think sex is this great because we don’t see each other every day?” Monroe asked, as they drove into the city for brunch, and then Chloé’s meeting.
“I don’t think that’s the reason.” Chloé smiled, reaching out to rest a hand on Monroe’s thigh. “Maybe it just feels more intense because it’s all crammed into two or three nights.”
“Like a whirlwind,” Monroe mused.
“We always said, ‘One day at a time.’”
Monroe turned to look at her properly. “You’re right. I’m not complaining. I suppose I’ve just never really had this before…with anyone.”
“No?”
“You have?”
“I’m French,” Chloé said with a teasing smile. “We’re all designed to be dramatic and intense.” She laughed, then added more quietly, “But yes…with Anais. It was like this.”
“And where is Anais now?” Monroe asked, trying, and failing, not to let the flicker of jealousy show in her voice.
“Being frantic with the woman she cheated on me with,” Chloé replied with a shrug, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.
“Oh…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine. That was another life.” She glanced at Monroe briefly, her voice calm. “I’ve no regrets.”
“Justine didn’t really like sex. I mean, she did in the beginning, but then…it just stopped. I think she was afraid of it, and by happenstance, made me a little afraid to be that vulnerable. You make me feel safe.”
Chloé’s hand moved to take Monroe’s. “That is the most important thing to me.”
“Me too.”
***
Chloé’s meeting overran.
“I will not sign off on this,” she said sharply.
The Shutler Fitch rep closed the folder in front of him with a sigh. “I’m afraid it’s the only option. We’ve done our due diligence, and it’s impossible for us to guarantee we won’t cut any more staff.”
“That was not our agreement.”
He scratched his beard, then shook his head. “Ms St Martin…are you pulling the plug on the deal? No one else is going to offer you a package like Shutler Fitch has. You’ll go out of business, and we’ll pick up the scraps for free. Is that the plan now?”
Chloé studied his face, not flinching.
“The best we could do is offer freelance work on an ad-hoc basis.”
“That isn’t good enough. These people have lives, commitments, bills to pay.”
He held up his hands. “And Shutler Fitch is empathetic about that, but it doesn’t change the fact that La Fée du Livre isn’t quite as…viable.”
“Then I believe we are at an impasse,” she said, calm and composed. “I gave my word to my staff this merger would be straightforward, and that the majority of them would keep their jobs. And now you expect me to go back and say, ‘Sorry, everyone, you’re all fired.’? No. I can’t do it.”
She stood, waving her hands slightly in front of her. “I won’t.”
“Then we’ll have no choice but to withdraw the offer and—”
“You can see yourself out,” Chloé cut in, her voice cool and final.
Once he was out of the room, Cécile blew out a high-pitched whistle and tossed her pen onto the table. “So now what?”
“I’ve no idea,” Chloé replied, sinking back into her chair. She ran a hand through her hair and let out a long breath. “Back to square one.”
“So, they’re just walking away?” Monroe asked as they drove back.
Chloé let her head fall against the headrest. “ Oui, unless I agree to these ridiculous suggestions. They’re a huge company. I can’t believe there’s no way they can’t absorb my staff…it’s just—”
“Greed,” Monroe interjected. “They want all the best parts of your business, but none of the responsibilities.”
Chloé didn’t respond straight away. Her fingers toyed with the gearstick, eyes fixed on the blur of the city moving past the window.
“I’m just tired,” she said finally, quieter now. “I built La Fée du Livre from nothing. Years of work, of putting people first, of doing things properly. And then these suits stroll in and tell me my staff are too expensive. Like they’re numbers, not people.”
Monroe reached across the gearstick, resting her hand gently on Chloé’s leg. “They don’t see what you’ve built. They only see what they can take from it.”
Chloé looked down at Monroe’s hand and felt comforted by it. “Maybe I was na?ve to think I could sell and keep it all intact.”
“That’s not na?ve, that’s principled.” Monroe glanced at her. “You said it yourself; you gave them your word. You don’t break promises. It’s why people trust you.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of Chloé’s mouth, weary but grateful. “You make it sound noble.”
“It is.” Monroe’s thumb brushed over Chloé’s knuckles. “You are.”
Chloé let out a breath, leaning back again. The silence settled for a moment, softer this time.
“You know,” Chloé said, turning slightly in her seat, “I wish you’d been in that room with me. I appreciate the way you support me.”
Monroe smiled, eyes on the road as she navigated Chloé’s car with easy confidence. “I was thinking… Would you let me take a look at your figures?”
“Of course. But I don’t think it’ll make any difference.”
“You let me be the judge of that,” Monroe replied, glancing over briefly. “This is my domain. I’m a figures girl.”