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I have a sneaking suspicion we aren’t here for the culinary experience nor the deal-making. We’ve barely had the most expensive bottle on the wine list opened, and we haven’t even ordered our appetizers, when Fabien leans over the table with something clearly weighing on his mind.
“Do you still have it?” he asks. “Your presentation? Your folder?”
“My notes? Yeah, why?”
Fabien smiles.
“Perfect.”
“Why, Fabien?”
He settles back in his chair, a flicker of smugness crossing his face.
“I’ve got something planned for tomorrow,” he says. “Something that could fix everything.”
“Wait...”
“Yes.”
“You mean... my work?”
“Yes.”
I sigh. I’ve heard words like this before.
“I don’t want anything to be fixed, Fabien. I screwed up. It’s my fault. I trusted the wrong person. I have to live with my failure. I don’t need you to make things right. I don’t want you to carry that burden.”
“You haven’t even heard what I have to say.”
“I don’t need to. What’s happened is impossible to fix.”
“Are you sure?”
“If even Clement thinks so, then what hope would you have?”
“That’s not how I work, Jolie. Let me do this for you.”
He’s deadly, quietly serious.
“I really don’t need you to do anything for me,” I reply.
The man opposite me freezes. He’s so smart, but he’s still unable to grasp that I can’t owe him after what I did to him.
I deserve whatever consequences come my way.
“Let’s stay on mission,” Fabien says as if trying to remain calm. “Don’t get emotional. Let’s look at the problem.”
My voice rises.
“Emotional? Ha. That’s rich coming from you. Very rich. You’ve done nothing but give me emotional whiplash all week.”
“Let me help you, Jolie,” Fabien says.
“Why do you think I need your help?”
“That’s not what it felt like when you were in my arms crying. You wanted my help then, why is this any different?”
“It wasn’t like that, Fabien.”
