“So… we’ve got a plan. Several actually,” Henri says and now it’s his turn to slide a file folder my way. “But we aren’t one hundred percent on any of them.”
I've seen this before. It's a strategy package. This one has three different tactics outlined. I read them as quickly as possible. It's nerve-wracking and I can't stop thinking about the way Louis Allard is just sitting there silently, hands folded, eyes never leaving me, like he's assessing me for some test I don't know I'm taking. I let my mind assess the ideas and make a mental list of hits and misses, which is essentially like a pros and cons list.
“So if you’re asking my opinion, with the basic amount of information I have,” I pause. “I would go with strategy one.”
“The fake relationship,” Damien reaffirms and gets a big grin on his face when I nod.
I honestly don’t like the idea of Gabriel, the best kiss of my life, fake dating someone but it's been years, and it's not like I pined for him. I didn't. I was embroiled in a long, horrible relationship, and Gabriel… well I've seen his face in tabloids and on gossip sites with various women hanging off him. And therewasthe pregnancy scandal a couple months ago.
I hadn't been following Gabriel Allard's life (I mean sure maybe a quick Google search every now and then), but my best friend is also an F1 driver and I listen when he talks about work. Also, the media kind of blew that paternity thing right up. It was everywhere. It isn't every day a fashion mogul's only child is accused of fathering a child with a one-night stand.
“Mr. Walsh?” Louis Allard says firmly.
Oh my God, I just spaced out in the middle of the biggest interview of my life. Was Eric right? Am I not cut out for this anymore? I sit straighter and refocus.
“Fake dating has so many advantages here,” I explain confidently. “One, it diverts public interest from the woman in question to the new one. Two, it shows a human side to the accused, which is the perfect way to combat the negative press that is sure to be written. Three, the public loves a good love story, and they see people in love as better, kinder, and more likely to be innocent than perpetually single people. It’s an absolute flaw in the human brain, but it’s true. So the caveat here is you need to make sure both the client and the person you hire for the role of significant other are on board. Have chemistry. And PDA is required.”
Well, that was quite the soliloquy. I feel my face start to heat. I mean, I know that everything I said is true, but I still feel a swell of panic because all three of these men are not just looking at me, but examining me. I feel like I’m missing something big. “Is the job I’m here for related to this problem? Because I thought I was here for an Allard Couture position.”
“It is in fact related to this issue,” Damien confirms.
All the hope and positive energy I’ve been feeling since I got the call from Henri fizzles in my chest like a defective firework. I can’t work with Gabriel Allard. And I can’t tell them why. I haven’t told anyone about that night. Not even Billy. And I don’t intend to tell anyone, ever. “What could I possibly add to the situation? You seem to have it under control. I mean, you’ve got a solid plan to implement.”
They stop looking at me and start looking at each other. My anxiety ratchets up as I try to figure out what the absolute fuck is going on here. Louis Allard leans forward, his eyes, which are the color of melted caramel, hold mine. “I have two more questions for you. What happened to your company? Why are you here, interviewing with us, when you created and ran one of the most successful PR companies in Australia?”
Shit. I blink. Look away and then look back. I have a bucket of canned responses I've been practicing. I didn't like the administrative work that comes with running a company. I needed a new challenge. I wanted more global work. I decided to move on before burnout happened. The problem with standard, canned responses is that people like Louis Allard know what they are. So I do the stupidest thing possible and tell him the truth. "My accounts manager decided to leave the company and took the top ten percent of my clients with him."
Mr. Allard doesn’t look shocked. “And you couldn’t make it work with the other ninety percent?”
"I could have. But the top ten were seventy-five percent of my revenue." I feel my palms get moist, so I press them into my pant legs under the table. "The accounts manager also tried to muddy my name. He made some massive errors in campaigns and blamed me for it to the clients. So I would have had to rebuild more than just fiscally, and I wasn't in the headspace to do that."
“Why not?”
“Because I was also going through a break-up from a six-year relationship,” I admit. “With my former account manager.”
Now Louis Allard looks shocked. But the expression moves quickly off his face. He's not one to let things throw him off. He wouldn't be as successful as he is if he was. I sigh and start to stand up, figuring we're done here. I mean who is going to hire a guy who tanked his own company by dating the wrong guy. But Louis raises one single hand in the air. A finger actually. I notice the tattoo on his wrist as his sleeve slips down. A set of Roman numerals. I'm shocked someone of his age and stature has a tattoo. He's still of the generation that kind of looks down on them. But again, that shows his maverick attitude. He wouldn't be where he is if he toed the line either.
Mr. Allard motions for me to sit down. I hesitate. He gives me a hint of a smile. “I’m still looking for your services, Mr. Walsh so unless you aren’t interested in a position with Allard Couture, you should stay.”
I sit. Mr. Allard looks at Henri and Damien. They turn back to me. "So you asked how you can help in this strategy. Well, we need a person who can play the role of partner to Gabriel. And we want it to be you."
Me? Fake date Gabriel Allard. The model handsome, sexy as hell, wild child who kissed me like it was the last thing he would ever do? The guy who is larger than life, passionate, bold, impetuous, and everything I am not and also not comfortable being around? I give them the only answer I can. “No.”
2AXEL
“But if you said no,then why are you standing here with me right now?” Billy James asks me, his dirty blond eyebrows raised high as he swirls the whiskey in his tumbler and leans back against the oak bar we’re standing next to.
“Because they wouldn’t take no for an answer,” I reply and bring my own whiskey to my lips. “But as for why we are here, in this vortex of hell known as a karaoke bar, well you’ll have to explain that to me. You’re the one who picked it.”
“It’s drag queen karaoke. Hosted by Montreal’s number one drag queen and the room is filled with hot gay men, mate,” Billy says, tipping his head toward the crowded tables peppered throughout the room, all facing the stage in front of us, waiting for Mademoiselle Kitara L’amour to start the show. “And you need to get laid, my friend.”
“I amnotgetting laid tonight,” I retort sharply.
A cute stocky brunette guy grabbing two beer bottles from the bartender to my left turns to me and gives me a once over. “Not with that attitude you’re not.”
And then he walks away. Billy, of course, bursts out laughing as I turn my usual fifty shades of red. The one thing I have never been able to control is the temperature of my face. Oh hell, if I'm honest it's not the only thing I can't control. I huff out a breath. "You're a dick, Billy."
“Yeah. I know.” He winks. “Now let’s get back to why you are here, in Montreal, with me at the Grand Prix if you turned down the job with Allard.”
