J'adore Paris by Isabelle Lafleche Read Free Book Online Page B

staring at his iPhone. He’s obviously looking for a distraction before we go off on our very unglamorous mission. To make matters worse, Laetitia and the PR team are massed in the hallway outside our office, discussing guest lists, runway set-up, and Champagne for the Shanghai show. I stare down at my casual outfit and feel completely out of place. I remind myself that it’s only a test to see what I’m capable of, and that things will get more glamorous soon.
    Just then, a dark and handsome man appears in the office doorway. He is tan and fit and looks straight out of a Calvin Klein ad. He’s wearing a Burberry trench coat and dark jeans, with bright red Converse sneakers.
    Rikash looks up and nearly drops his phone.
    “Hi, everybody. Sorry I’m late. There was some major traffic on the way from the airport.” His accent is American.
    After he shakes Frédéric’s hand and greets the three gendarmes, he walks toward Rikash and me. “I’m Chris. You must be the new team members. Welcome aboard.” He flashes a Colgate smile.
    “Hellooooo, so nice to meet you.” Rikash darts forward to shake Chris’s hand. “You can’t imagine how thrilled we are to be going out on a raid.”
    It’s amazing how the presence of an attractive male will rev up Rikash’s enthusiasm. I shake my head.
    “Fantastic. I heard you guys worked in New York for Edwards & White,” Chris adds cheerfully. “I did some work for them a few years ago. Great firm, isn’t it?”
    “Oh yes, we absolutely loved it!” Rikash is now shamelessly lying to this handsome stranger. I discreetly pinch his left arm to signal that he should stop.
    I move forward to shake the investigator’s hand. “Catherine Lambert, and this is my overzealous assistant, Rikash. But you can call him HRH. It’s short for
His Rikash Highness
.”
    Rikash is silent for a moment before bursting into laughter. To my surprise, everyone in the office follows suit, including Frédéric. Pleased that I’ve managed to break the ice, it occurs to me that we might be in for a highly entertaining day after all.
    “How did you get into this business?” I ask Chris once we’ve settled into the undercover police truck. The back-seat windows are blacked out, so there’s nowhere to look but at each other.
    “I started working in L.A., my hometown, as a general investigator but got a break when a big sporting goods manufacturer asked me to go after some counterfeiters. Now I have hundreds of clients in the retail industry.”
    “How fascinating.” Rikash gives him sweet eyes.
    “It is, actually. I have forty agents working for me in cities all over the world, but I still like to get my hands dirty, especially for my most important clients.”
    “That’s impressive,” I say enthusiastically. “We’re thrilled to be learning the ropes with someone as knowledgeable as you.”
    “It’s great to see you interested in playing such an active role. Your predecessor, Mr. Le Furet, didn’t go on raids much. He preferred to remain behind the scenes.”
    “Sorry to interrupt,” Larivière says, “but we need to tell the driver where we’re going.”
    “Yes, of course. Porte de Saint-Ouen,” Chris says. “A large shipment of fake goods was due to arrive there early this morning.”
    “Where do you get your tips?” I ask, intrigued.
    “Some come from the clients, others from law enforcement officers who’ve seen something shady. But most tips actually come anonymously from other counterfeiters competing for territory. It’s like the drug trade: mercenary.”
    I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to relax beforewe get to our destination. I know we’re heading to an unsafe part of town and need to calm my nerves. I see Rikash checking out his hair in the driver’s rear-view mirror. My phone vibrates and, startled, I jump from my seat. I peer down and see a text message from Antoine wishing me good luck. This soothes and energizes me: I’m ready for