J'adore Paris by Isabelle Lafleche Read Free Book Online

bluster, Rikash now looks totally confused.
    “You’re both going on a raid tomorrow morning to observe some seizures and arrests. You’ll be accompanied by three gendarmes and a private detective. So, yes, I guess you can call it getting pretty close to hell.”
    I nearly fall off my chair. I knew that my responsibilities here would involve dealing with law enforcement agencies, but I wasn’t expecting to be sent on a raid my first week on thejob. This is a far cry from my visions of sitting in the front row at couture shows, next to the editor-in-chief of
Elle
magazine.
    I peer over at Rikash, who’s as white as a sheet.
    Like the winner of a boxing match after the referee has counted to ten, Frédéric rises to his feet triumphantly. “Here’s the seizure warrant. The police officers will meet you here tomorrow at seven sharp. You might receive some threats along the way, but don’t worry about it—it’s pretty routine.”
    “Threats?” I croak, dumbfounded.
    “Unhappy vendors can get a bit violent. One of your predecessors had his knuckles broken with a lead pipe.”
    Rikash now looks as though he might faint. “But you don’t understand. I don’t like pain. I cry when I get a facial.”
    My head spins. How could Sandrine not have mentioned this at lunch today? Did she purposely avoid telling us?
    “I’m sorry, it’s just that Sandrine didn’t mention we’d be going on raids so soon. I’m afraid we’ve been caught off guard.”
    “Sandrine isn’t the one making this decision; I am. There’s no better way to learn the ropes,” Frédéric says curtly. Then he smiles. “By the way, Catherine, you should forget about wearing high heels tomorrow. I think jeans and sneakers will be more appropriate. Just in case you need to run for your life.”

Chapter 6
    C hampagne makes you feel like it’s Sunday and better days are just around the corner
. Marlene Dietrich’s famous words come to mind as I wait for Antoine at the Hôtel de l’Abbaye, a charming and romantic
hôtel particulier
, a townhouse of a grand sort, in the heart of Saint-Germain. We had agreed to meet here after work to celebrate my first day at Dior. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was to be ordering a bottle of Champagne to calm my jittery nerves. After a few sips of pink Taittinger, I start to relax and admire this dainty, delectable space. The tiny bar at the back of the lobby adjoins a lovely courtyard. I take a deep breath and remind myself of why I moved back to Paris: first and foremost, to be with the man I love; second, to pursue a career in a field I’m passionate about. So what if my first day wasn’t exactly what I expected?
    “Hello,
ma chérie
,” Antoine arrives and moves in for a kiss. I stand to greet him but can barely muster a smile.
    “Why the long face? What happened on your first day?”
    “We got an unexpected assignment.”
    “Oh?” He takes off his suit jacket and places it on the back of the antique settee.
    “Rikash and I are going out with the local police tomorrow. Let’s just say that’s not what I imagined for my first week.”
    “What do you mean?” He takes a seat next to me as the waiter pours him a glass of bubbly.
    “We’re going on a raid to bust counterfeiters and confiscate their merchandise.”
    “Really? That sounds amazing! I wish I could be a fly on the wall to see you guys in action.”
    “I don’t know about that. It seems a bit scary. Apparently, a former colleague got his knuckles broken doing this.”
    “Are you serious?” His expression changes from jovial to concerned. “Who told you that?”
    “Frédéric, one of the top dogs in our legal department.”
    “Was it—the broken knuckles—a one-off? Or does it happen all the time?”
    “I have no idea. He didn’t say.”
    “I knew most luxury houses were active in doing raids. I just didn’t realize the risks for the people actually carrying them out.” He takes a sip of Champagne, then stares into his