Chapter 7
Present
“Black tea with two sugars, please.”
Surprised, I remained silent for a minute. It”s sad to say, but I”m almost glad Cécile managed to utter a polite phrase. Usually, she barks her orders without any consideration for me. Corentin is right. I shouldn”t be raving about something that should come naturally.
In the cafeteria, I take the opportunity to prepare my caffeine fix. I”m already dead tired, and it”s only ten o”clock in the morning. I usually have more willpower and stamina, but I”ve been racking my brains all night. After her compliment the other day, I want to try. I worked up the courage to ask Cécile to give me a chance and leave me in charge of one of the many files piled up on her desk.
I have no choice but to act. As long as she hasn”t given me the opportunity to prove myself, there”s little chance of me moving on to the job of my dreams. I need to stand on my own and move forward professionally. I return to her office with hushed steps and place her tea on the mahogany cabinet. My superior ignores me and keeps her eyes riveted on her file.
Come on, Florence, you can do it.
I take a deep breath, but my words are stuck in the back of my throat. I”ve been practicing all weekend with the girls. I know my speech by heart, everything was perfect, but it seems my memory is failing me at the worst possible moment.
Anxiety digs into my stomach, twists my guts. The abdominal pain intensifies, sweat beads down my back. I”m on the verge of giving up and turning back when Cécile raises her almost translucent irises to me. Her gaze lets me know she”s indisposed by my presence.
“What do you want?” she asks me curtly.
Good old Cécile is back.
“I—I mean, I”d like to know if—” I fumble with my fingers, unable to make eye contact with her.
This is my future at stake, damn it! I”ve got to pull myself together!
“Florence, I haven”t got all day. Hurry up, will you?”
I jump at his exclamation, then clear my throat and visualize my friends in a corner of my head. If they were here, they”d be cheering me on, that”s for sure. Especially Corentin, who”s been waiting for this moment for as long as I have.
I close my eyelids for a moment and inhale once more.
It”s about time! I can do it; I have to do it!
“I—” My words expired in a breath. “I”d like to take on more responsibility. I”d like to do more than manage your appointments, file things, and bring you tea. Do you have a contract for me?”
That”s it! I did it.
To my surprise, she takes the time to think about it. Hope springs up in me. I hold my breath, panting. After more than a year as her assistant, I”ve finally proven I”m up to the challenge of being entrusted with a wedding. A broad smile flashes across my face, but it disappears when Cécile opens one of her drawers and hands me a familiar file.
Too familiar, in fact.
“Wasn”t it the union I canceled?” I asked, confused.
“That”s the one.”
I frown, skeptical. Is she making fun of me? I wait for her to burst out laughing, telling myself she”s joking, but nothing comes. Elbows on her desk, she stares at me.
“Uh—I don”t think we understood each other. I wanted to plan a wedding, not handle an annulment.”
Cécile exhales in exasperation and picks up her index cards again.
“I understand, but it”s not possible. You need more experience.”
I refrain from telling her if she doesn”t give me responsibility, I”m not likely to acquire the skills she says I lack.
“Can I ask what I”m going to use this file for?”
She sighs once more, as if the answer were obvious, but I was too stupid to grasp the meaning of her words.
“It will allow you to see what a well-done job looks like. Take notes during your analysis, it will be useful to you.”
I barely contain a grimace of displeasure. Cécile is certainly not lacking in self-confidence, but this much. I”ve done tons of weddings. I don”t need to take notes, I”ve already got everything I need. Yet I know there”s no point in insisting. I”m about to go back to my office when she stops me.
“You forgot to thank me.”
She”s getting on my nerves!
How I”d love to spit in her face all the insults I can think of! But I don”t. What”s the point?
I dig my fingernails into my palm, bite my tongue, then shake my head in spite.
“Thank you so much for your invaluable help, Cécile. I am honored.”
My answer seems to satisfy her, and I doubt she even detected the sarcasm in my voice. She then beckons me to leave with a wave of her hand. I comply, happy to escape this stifling atmosphere. I turn right into the long corridor lined with plants and various paintings. When I reach my workspace, I collapse into my seat, annoyed, but above all despondent. I think back to my boss, her way of being, and how she treats me.
Out of all the organizers at the company, why did I have to run into her?
I cannot discern whether her behavior stems from inherent tendencies or a dislike toward me. What is evident is her assertiveness. I have not intentionally triggered her displeasure, yet it appears she is dissatisfied with my presence and is committed to expressing it.
I still remember when I first joined the company. The joy of working with her and learning new things alongside her. No longer using my imagination to design weddings. To grow and evolve, thanks to her advice.
The file Cécile has given me sits on my desk. With a roll of the eyes, I open it and analyze what she”s done. I open a Word file to record the names of all the suppliers and venues she has chosen in relation to the couple”s theme.
Something I”d already done.
All morning, I focus on drafting emails and reviewing my manager”s file, which mostly involves tasks for an upcoming wedding that won”t happen. It”s essentially busywork. I carefully go through each item, including the boutique where our former client purchased her wedding dress. While assisting future brides isn”t obligatory, positive recommendations are always helpful. Although my input may not be crucial, my advice could be valuable.
I spend the entire day in my office, only stepping out to grab a sandwich from the local supermarket. When my phone vibrates, I realize it”s half-past seven in the evening. I read the message left by the lawyer.
Corentin: Are we still meeting at eight?
Darn!I forgot again. Awkwardly, I pack up my things and rush out of Amour Passionnel. Phone in hand, I run in the hope of being on time. I text him our dinner will take place. His reply soon arrives.
Corentin: Don”t run, Florence. I”m going to Columbus Café Co, so you can take your time.
What?How does he know about this? Is he spying on me? I frown, scan the area but see nothing. It”s true I”m often late, but he can”t anticipate my actions.
Me: How do you know that? Are you telepathic?
Corentin: Maybe. Or maybe it”s because I know you.
Frowning, I start typing my message, when?—
“Florence?”
I jump, almost dropping my phone. With my hand on my chest, I turn around and relax when I see Lucas”s blue eyes. I step forward from my coach, happy to see him.
“Hi, blondie. What are you doing here?” I ask.
He smiles back at me, his hands stuffed into his tasteless trousers. Well, I won”t judge, we all have our moments of weakness.
“I”m here to take you to the gym for a little workout. On the program: two sets of ten squats. A few lunges and a minute and a half of burpees. We”ll finish with thirty seconds of plank. Are you ready?”
Now at my height, I notice he surpasses me by a few centimeters. Lucas is so close I can feel his breath.
“I would have loved to, but I already have plans for tonight. It”s a movie night with my best friend.”
He pouts, pretending to be sad. “Oh, darn!”
I laugh. I adore this man. He is simple and easygoing. With him, I don”t need to ponder a thousand questions about what”s going on in his mind. He is clear and cheerful. Despite our infrequent meetings, I enjoy his company. We exchanged numbers, and we sometimes talk in the evenings – when we have time.
“Next time.”
“I”m counting on it, miss. You still owe me a rematch.”
I gaze at him, raising my eyebrows. “I believe we”re even.”
“True, but we need a winner. No draws.”
I roll my eyes. “I doubt it”s a good idea. You”ll lose again, and I”m not sure your ego can handle it. At least now, you can rest without fearing I”ll finish you off.”
“I adore you, Florence.” He laughs.
My eyes widen as I gaze at him, a stunned silence enveloping me. In addition to his eyes, his whole face expresses this emotion. This spectacle of joy lightens my burden. He”s not like Corentin. I love my best friend, but sometimes understanding him is not an easy task. However, my conscience feels guilty for being so harsh with the lawyer. He”s not expressive, but he”s still my midnight sun.
“If you adore me so much, we should see each other more.”
“With pleasure.” He smiles.
We walk a few steps before stopping near my street. His hand rests on my shoulder. My heart beats a bit faster than usual, and I swallow hard. I”ve only had one relationship, and even one wasn”t serious. We got together to form a couple. There was no love in the air, only awkward moments before he broke up with me over the phone. What a coward! He must have taken inspiration from Joe Jonas. Sorry, Joe, but I”m a Swiftie, and I don”t like it when someone messes with my mom. I planned to break up with him too, but I would have had the audacity to do it in person.
“I have to go.”
Lucas moves closer to me. With closed eyelids, I expect the touch of his lips against mine. That”s not what happens. To my dismay, his lips land on my forehead. A grimace on my face, I let him move away from my space.
“See you soon?” he asks.
I nod, hoping my disappointment is not too obvious. He gives me one last smile before disappearing around a corner. Looking up at the sky, I stand still on the sidewalk. I like Lucas, but I don”t know if it will go beyond our workout sessions. Sure, I suggested we see each other, but there”s no guarantee he would want more. I could also not be his type.
“Is there something to see?”
I jump. This time, it”s not Lucas, but Corentin standing to my right. His head, which was raised to the sky, lowers in my direction. I get lost in the powerful green of his eyes. Corentin is wearing linen pants and a slightly open white shirt. I notice his beard has grown in a week.
I prefer him with it.
On its own, my body moves closer to his, and a smile lights up my lips. It”s strange, but whenever he”s around, life is a bit more beautiful.
“I was somewhere else.”
He nods, then shifts his gaze toward the direction where Lucas went. I contemplate his Adam”s apple moving up and down in his throat.
“Who was that?”
So, he saw him.
“Lucas.”
“And? Is his name supposed to ring a bell for me?”
“He”s my friend.”
He says nothing, then gazes back up at the sky. We remain in silence for a while before he speaks again.
“Is he a friend like you and I?”
His question makes me furrow my brows.
“Only with you do I have a friendship like ours. He”s a buddy. Don”t worry, Corentin. No one will take your place.”
“Noted.”
He takes me by the waist, and I enjoy our moment of intimacy.
“How was the family meeting?”
The lines on his face become more severe. I have my answer.
“The usual,” he says, weary.
It”s better not to dig deeper, even with high curiosity. It”s essential to respect his limits, as he does with mine. The most important thing is he knows I”m here if he needs me. Regardless of my anxieties and fears, I will be there when he wants it.
“Can”t you escape it?”
“Yes, but this time it was important. Anyway, it”s over, and I have your flowers.”
He hands me a bouquet of pink tulips. Despite not being overtly expressive, I genuinely adore this man. I rise on tiptoe and plant a kiss on his cheek. My action surprises me as much as him, and he watches me with red cheeks.
“Uh—surprising.”
I laugh. “It”s my way of thanking you.”
“Don”t hesitate to do it more often.”
I chuckle softly, but he doesn”t acknowledge it, focused instead on retrieving a cup from his bag. I grab the coffee, but I only have time to swallow a few sips before he snatches it from my hands.
“What the—” My eyebrows shoot up in surprise as I stare at him incredulously, as though he”s sprouted a second head. He offers no explanation, simply handing me a chocolate croissant, which I eagerly devour in a few swift bites.
“It”s mine. Didn”t you see my name on the cup?”
I furrow my brows. “I thought you hated coffee?”
“No, I don”t like the one you drink; it”s different. By the way, you should think about slowing down on caffeine.”
Here we go again. I roll my eyes, disheartened.
“Daddy Corentin, are you going to start again? Besides, this will be my first of the evening.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Do you expect me to believe you haven”t had any others?”
I remain silent, defeated.
“Has no one ever told you not to overdo it on caffeine?”
I know he”s saying it for my own good, but how does he expect me to make it through the day with only one hour of sleep? I was so stressed about talking to Cécile, I couldn”t close my eyes all night. I preferred to watch true crime videos, which only heightened my discomfort and paranoia. All of this to end up with an old case file.
Great!
“You”re right. I”ll think about reducing my consumption when I”m dead.”
I smile, amused by my own joke, while my friend remains stoic, far from rejoicing at my jest.
“Have you eaten a clown?” he asks as we enter the building.
“Come on, party pooper.”
Corentin takes the time to check his mail. He asks if I haven”t forgotten his keys at his place yet, and I assure him everything went well during his absence. We climb the stairs when a question comes back to me.
“How did you know I”d be late? Did you install a tracker on my phone?” I ask amused.
“Almost. We share our locations. Did you forget?”
I slap my forehead at my stupidity. Arriving on my landing, I turn to Corentin.
“We”ll meet at your place in thirty minutes. I need to get ready. I promise I won”t take long.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Stop making promises you won”t keep.”
I stick my tongue out at him and enter my apartment, motivated to shut him up.
* * *
With Lola in my arms,twenty minutes later, I ring the bell at Corentin”s house. When he opens the door, his features show he”s surprised I”ve managed to keep my word. He steps aside to let me through. His apartment is quite different from mine. From the corridor, I enter his large living room. On the right, there”s a wall-mounted fireplace, which he uses to place his plants. Well, his cacti, since the old ones are dead. At the far end are two large windows, letting in the light from outside. I let my dog waddle her bottom on the wooden floor, but she prefers the softness of his beige sofa.
Before getting ready for our evening, my neighbor orders us two pokés on Uber Eats. While we wait for our food to arrive, we decide to make a chocolate cake for dessert. It couldn”t be easier for our maternal culinary skills. When Corentin leaves to fetch our dishes, I take the opportunity to lick my chocolate-covered finger.
I”m cleaning the counter when the door slams. Corentin is right on time. I stare at him for a moment, astonished by his gigantic size. Corentin is huge, which isn”t anything new, but why do I get the feeling he wasn”t this big before? Maybe because we didn”t see each other for a week?
With my six-foot stature, I can”t help but notice the contrast in our heights. As he glances at me from the side, I suddenly feel small, like a vulnerable creature. But in his presence, I feel secure and self-assured. I trust that he”ll always be there to watch over me, ensuring nothing can harm me.
“Florence?”
I shake my head and come back down to earth. “I”m so sorry. You were saying?”
A mixture of amusement and exasperation crosses his expression.
“The cake.” he finally breathes.
I roll my eyes and rush to my oven. I take out our dessert and note with horror, it”s charred.
“No! No! No!” I exclaimed.
“Fortunately, there”s popcorn in the cupboards. It should do the trick.”
He waves the package under my nose, proud of himself. We move to the sofa, launch Netflix, and put on Falling Inn Love. Corentin is focused on the movie, but I”m not. My brain starts going over my day again.
Will I ever be up to it?
I bite my nails to try and calm my nerves. Unfortunately, I don”t have enough fingers to soothe my anguish. I love what I do, but is it stupid of me to want to stand on my own two feet? The people around me succeed in everything they do, but I remain cloistered in this position of assistant. I wonder what they”re doing with me; their friendship is far too good for what I am. I”m afraid I”ll carry this image of incompetence, prone to throwing a tantrum at the slightest opportunity. With my head pounding, I take a glass of water but spill the contents on the coffee table.
“This can”t be happening.”
I get up, grab a cloth, and clean up my mess.
“It”s okay, Florence, it”s just water.”
It”s not only that. I can”t use my body without goofing off. That”s probably why Cécile thinks I can”t go any further. I”m not cut out for this job. I”m not cut out for anything. Certainly, without my bond with élise, I wouldn”t have reached this point. You require mental stamina, a quality opposite to mine. I can”t go on. What an idea it was to set off from Toulouse to realize unattainable dreams. I wanted to go too high, aiming for the moon, but I didn”t fall into the stars.
Every day is the same. I am a calamity.
“What”s wrong?” he asks me, concerned.
With my best fake smile, I turn to him. “Nothing in particular.”
“I know you like the back of my hand; you can”t lie to me. Especially not when you”ve scrubbed my table three times now. So? What”s the matter? It”s not the water, is it?”
I let out a long sigh and finally unpacked everything. “I spoke to Cécile.”
Surprise is written all over his face.
“Bravo, Florence! I know it”s not easy and you can be proud of yourself. How did it go?”
I let out a bitter laugh and got up to put the tea towel away.
“She said I wasn”t ready to organize a wedding, and she”s right. I don”t know what got into my head to think I would be up to the task. I won”t be. My abilities are too limited for such a responsibility. Even my brain is. See me, I”m capable of nothing. Either I panic over anything and everything, or I lament whenever things don”t go my way. So, all the time. It”s not possible to be so unbearable! How do you manage to put up with me? Because I can”t anymore. I”m exhausted, Corentin, I can”t take it anymore. And don”t talk to me about seeing a therapist or something; it”s not the right time.”
Breathless, I collapse on the sofa. With my head in my hands, I don”t dare meet Corentin”s gaze. It”s not the first time I”ve been in this state, but I usually keep it to myself. Complaining to my friends is the last thing I want to do. This moment must have surprised my neighbor too because he doesn”t respond, strokes my back. Glancing in his direction, I notice his furrowed brow and the worry lines etched on his face.
“I”m sorry, I”m ruining our evening. You”ve only just arrived back, and you clearly have more important things to do than listen to my little problems.”
“Florence, I”m here for you. It doesn”t matter I”ve just gotten back. The concern is the horror of your words. Do you mean what you said?”
I nod. “I don”t know. Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Maybe it would be better if I stopped and changed jobs. Do you need an assistant?”
I frown at the disapproving expression on Lola”s face. Does she understand what I”m saying? In any case, Corentin understands perfectly well, and he”s surprised. For my part, this idea didn”t come on a whim. I”ve been thinking about it for a while, but now it resonates even more strongly in my mind.
“You can”t give up. It”s your dream job.”
This time, I can”t help rolling my eyes.
“I know, but it doesn”t mean I”ll be able to achieve it. When I was little, I also wanted to be a singer, an actress, and a princess, but these are illusions, unattainable goals. You have to know how to let go, to be able to move forward. I”m trying, Corentin, but it”s wearing me out. The fact I want to give up is proof it”s not for me. I can”t do it, so I might as well stop.”
“But you”re good, you can”t give up without a fight,” he replies, ignoring my sarcasm.
“I may be gifted, as you say, but my boss thinks otherwise. It doesn”t matter what I think if she doesn”t think it too. Anyway, it”s an idea.”
Corentin approaches me, cupping my face and forcing me into his hypnotic green gaze. “Get the idea out of your pretty little head! It”s a little downtime, we all have them. Before you know it, you”ll be planning a great wedding.”
With my heart on the brink, I remain silent.
I doubt it, Corentin.
I strongly doubt it.