The Man Who Risked It All by Laurent Gounelle Read Free Book Online Page B

said the cashier.
    “Young man, it’s your turn,” the shop assistant said to the next in line.
    “No,” I said. “It was instead of the baguette, not in addition.”
    “Two loaves,” the young man called out.
    “Right, that’s two euros five cents for the gentleman, and two euros ten for the young man.”
    “Madame?” said the shop assistant.
    I felt awful. I didn’t have the heart to carry on. A glance toward the car. The chauffeur was standing beside it, his arms folded. He wasn’t taking his eyes off me.
    “Half a baguette, well done,” said an old lady.
    “Excuse me,” I said to the assistant, “I’ve changed my mind. I’m sorry, but I’d rather have a half-baguette as well.”
    “Make up your mind,” she said in her very high-pitched voice, taking the other half of the baguette she had cut for the old lady.
    I was very hot. I was sweating under my suit.
    “Sixty cents for the old lady and the same for the gentleman.”
    “Madame?” the shop assistant asked.
    “I’m still thinking,” said a young woman who was looking at the cakes with an obvious feeling of guilt.
    She must be counting the number of calories in each one, I thought.
    “Another problem, monsieur?” the assistant asked, suspiciously.
    “Look, I’m really sorry. I know I’m out of line, but a sandwich loaf. I think I want a sandwich loaf. Yes, that’s it! A sandwich loaf!”
    She stared at me with obvious annoyance. I didn’t dare turn around, but I had a feeling the customers stuck behind me were about to grab me by the collar and throw me out. She sighed, and then turned around to get the sandwich loaf.
    “Hang on! Stop! No, actually …”
    “Yes?” the assistant said in a choked voice, no doubt on the verge of hysterics.
    “I want … nothing. Actually, I don’t want anything. Thank you … sorry … thank you.”
    I turned on my heels and walked past the line of customers, head down, without looking at them. At the door, I broke into a run, feeling like a thief.
    The chauffeur was waiting with the car door open, as if I were a VIP, but I felt as ashamed as a little boy who has just been caught trying to steal a sweet from a stall. I dived into the Mercedes in a sweat.
    “You’re as red as an Englishman who’s just spent an hour in the sun on the Riviera,” said Dubreuil, visibly amused.
    “It’s not funny. Really not funny.”
    “Anyhow, you see, you did it.”
    I didn’t answer. The car moved off.
    “Perhaps I went a bit far for a first time,” he acknowledged. “But I promise you that in a few weeks you’ll be able to do it and treat it as a joke.”
    “But it doesn’t interest me! I don’t want to become a pain in the neck! I can’t bear people who are a pain in the neck, who are too demanding and piss everyone off. I don’t want to be like them!”
    “It’s not about you becoming a pain in the neck. I won’t make you go from one extreme to the other. I just want you to know how to get what you want, even if you have to put people out a bit. But he who can do more, can do less. I’m going to push you to do a bit more than necessary, so that later you’ll be quite at ease asking for what it’s normal for you to want.”
    “So, what’s the next stage?”
    “For the next few days, you will visit at least three bakeries a day, and you will ask for two changes of what you’re given. It’ll be easy.”
    Compared with what I’d just done, that did indeed seem acceptable.
    “For how long do I have to do this?”
    “Until it becomes quite natural for you, requiring no effort. And remember, you can be demanding and still remain nice. You don’t have to be unpleasant.”
    The Mercedes pulled up in front of my apartment. Vladi got out and opened the door for me.
    “Good evening,” said Dubreuil.
    I didn’t answer.
    Étienne emerged from under the staircase and stared at the car.
    “Well, someone’s doing all right for himself,” he said, coming up to me. He took off his hat and