Chapter 12

At 45, Rachel Staunton was a force of nature. Stepping off the train from Nice, she looked like she had just stepped out of a salon, instead of getting off of a five and a half hour train ride from the south of France. Her hair, worn tight against her head, was perfect, not a strand out of place, showing off her round face. Her makeup was impeccable, lipstick and cheekbones by the book. You had to be intimate with her to see the depth of powder and concealer that covered the dark circles under her eyes and fine wrinkles in the corners of her eyes and mouth and Rachel Staunton would never let someone get that close to her.

Alex sat casually on the bench watching her direct a porter who was gathering up a couple of bags and putting them on a cart. The grand lady herself only seemed to carry a purse, in her hand rather than slung over her shoulder, so as not to wrinkle the cream silk blouse she was wearing. Alex was certain that her bra was of the finest quality, even if it made her breasts seem less than natural in the way they did not move under her silk as she walked.

He immediately did not like her. There was something artificial about her that just put his hackles up. Monique would have said it was his bullshit meter working overtime and she was probably right. Someone who took that much care with their appearance was hiding something, some imperfection, some character flaw that needed fine clothes and expensive makeup to cover. Her hair was blonde, but he suspected that was one of the few natural things about her. The subtle shadings could not be achieved by the hands of anyone but a true artist and even then, he doubted that she would have allowed it. No, her hair was her one true possession which made Alex wonder why she wore it so severely restricted. Samantha had just welcomed her boss back to Paris and they were talking, not as friends but business colleagues, their postures formal and Samantha was deferring as needed. It was almost funny to watch. Alex did his best not to laugh or draw attention to himself. Samantha had wanted him to come with her, but had suggested it was best not to introduce him to her boss at the station.

They had taken an hour, earlier in the day, to move most of Samantha’s things back to the Marriott. It was window dressing to make things look appropriate and now, looking at the two of them, he agreed that it had been a good decision. Rachel and Monique would clash like fire and water he was sure and he was also sure that Monique would come out on top. Rachel struck him as someone who always had to be in charge and he knew Monique well enough to know that she always was in charge. He had watched Monique fence with some of the great names in fashion and in the end they always did what she wanted. He had no doubt that this would be the case again. And with Monique championing Samantha, he expected that the working relationship with Rachel would either fall apart completely or be a much stronger one. That would depend solely on Rachel’s ego, something Alex had no doubt would need a porter to carry around if it had been a physical thing.

He watched the two of them exit the platform and head into the main station. It was his cue to leave as well. Dinner was at 7:30 and he still had to get back to his apartment and change in to something more appropriate. Having seen the lady, he now knew the role he had to play. She would only accept another professional and Alex was sure he could play the part of a professional. He only wondered if he had a clean shirt as he descended into the Metro for the short ride home.