And that’s how I find myself after dinner standing by the terrace, overlooking the lake, with Sylvie beside me. We’ve been easing into the conversation I’ve been trying to avoid for a month.
I want her to stay as head designer at Armandelle. Surely Paige and I have proven to her by now that our marriage is real.
“Sylvie,” I say. “What do you want? Do you want more creative freedom? I can give you that. Do you want more time to pursue other opportunities? I can give you that too.”
She looks at me for a long moment. There’s speculation in her kajal-rimmed eyes, and she takes a long drag of her cigarette.
“Raphaël,” she says in French. “You and your wife are pretending. I know it. I’ve known it from the beginning. But it’s been very fun to watch you both… perform, let us say, in front of me.”
I’m quiet for a long beat before sighing. “Damn.”
Sylvie lifts an eyebrow. “You married her for business.”
There’s no point in denying it. I run a hand over my face. “Yes. Did you set us up?”
“Don’t be mad,chérie. It was a lot of fun.”
“Yourmassage therapist?”
“I’ll admit, I was expecting you to refuse that one.” Her smile widens. “But oh was it fun. Leelyn and I have had an absolute ball of a time. You are normally so uptight, yes? You don’t operate in your creative side, only your logical. I’ve had a lot of fun watching you pretend.” She cocks her head. “Only, it’s not pretend anymore, is it?”
Sylvie’s eyes are locked on me, and I shouldn’t say what I say next. We have a relationship that dances the line between professional and private. Friends and collaborators. Employee and employer. She has power. I have power. We trade it back and forth; one of the world’s most celebrated designers and the owner of the world’s largest luxury conglomerate.
I hold her fate. But she holds part of mine.
“No,” I say. “It’s not.”
“Ah. I have been correct, then. Things changed a few weeks ago?”
“Yes.”
“I am very perceptive,” she says, and her smile widens. “Maybe I will leave Maison Valmont one day, maybe I won’t. But it won’t be because of this.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, not knowing entirely what I feel about all of it. Across the terrace, Paige is in an animated conversation with Leelyn. She looks happy.
“Don’t feel played,” Sylvie says. “You two were trying to deceive us. We just had a little fun back.”
I run a hand along my jaw. “Yes. I can see that.”
Sylvie stubs out her cigarette. “Let’s go be with our wives and leave business talk to tomorrow.”
If only business could be entirely separated from my wife.
Because by the morning, it’s all anyone can talk about.
LEGAL NOTICE
Ben Wilde adds new documents to the lawsuit against niece
Newly uncovered emails call into question Paige Wilde’s claim that she married Raphaël Montclair for love. As noted earlier in this lawsuit, the will that regulates Paige’s access to her additional 10% of the stakes is conditional on her marrying “the love of her life.”
Newly discovered emails from Paige Wilde have been entered into discovery. They were sent several weeks before their courthouse wedding and clearly stipulates the deal: Ms. Wilde asked Mr. Montclair to marry her with the express reason to receive her shares and force Mr. Ben Wilde out of the company.
This goes against everything Mr. Montclair’s and Ms. Wilde’s lawyers have tried to argue over the past month.
This seriously calls into question Paige Wilde’s ownership of the shares, and thus also her majority stake. It was not hers to manage and not hers to sell to Raphaël Montclair.
PAIGE’S INCOMING TEXTS
