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CHAPTERNINE
E-e-ek! Are you trying to kill me?” Babette barely made it on board before the trolley started moving. Olivia easily fit between two men in business suits, while Babette had a harder time squeezing in. Once she was situated between a plump woman and the railing, she continued her dramatics.
“I do not understand why zee people in ziss country don’t walk to work. In Paris I walked to work every day.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Ohh, how I miss my precious Par-ree. If not for you, I would be enjoying an espresso and cream puff at Popelini right now. Instead of being here in this”—she waved a hand at the traffic that whizzed past—“madness you call home.”
“You were the one who applied to French Kiss,” Olivia said.
“Because I thought I would get good money. But so far I’ve been paid less than a street cleaner.”
Olivia wanted to point out that she would get her money when Olivia got her designs. And she wasn’t talking about a bunch of flamboyant burlesque costumes. But she didn’t want a repeat of yesterday’s dramatics. After the thong hanging, it had taken the rest of the day to calm Babette down.
Not that Olivia had been involved in the calming process. It had been Deacon who carried a sobbing Babette to the guest room. Deacon who placed her on the bed and spoke to her in soft French. Deacon who ordered Olivia to bring Babette some wine to soothe her nerves. Olivia had opened a bottle of her best merlot and taken it and a glass to the guest room. Instead of thanking her, Babette had sobbed even louder.
“You seem to agitate her,” Deacon said as he ushered Olivia out of the bedroom and closed the door. Talk about agitated. Olivia had been so agitated she wanted to kick in the door and order him out of her house. The only thing that kept her from it was the unsigned contract and the thought of having to deal with Babette by herself. So instead she had gone upstairs and waited. And waited. And waited. When Babette’s loud moans drifted up the stairs, Olivia couldn’t believe her ears. It took a good five minutes of moans before her naïve brain could accept the truth that Deacon was having sex with a woman right under her nose. Furious, she marched down the stairs with the intent of kicking them both out of her house. But when she arrived in the guest room, she found the bottle of wine empty, Babette sleeping like a contented baby, and Deacon gone.
“So will Deacon be at your office?” Babette’s question pulled her out of her daydream.
Kelly had called to inform her that Deacon had stopped by the office and was waiting to see her. Olivia had little doubt that he had signed the contract. He’d made no bones about how ridiculous he thought her idea for a men’s lingerie line was. Olivia was relieved. And also terrified. Deacon had some valid points that had her second-guessing the idea. But there was no going back now. Especially when she didn’t have another plan.
She glanced over at Babette and tried to give her the brightest smile she could. “I know we’ve had a little communication problem, Babette. But starting today that’s all going to change. I’m going to listen to you, and you’re going to listen to me. And together we’re going to produce a great line.” She pumped her fist in the air. “Viva la Girl Power!”
Babette stared at Olivia as if she were a pair of granny panties. “Sacrebleu.”
***
By the time they reached the office, Olivia had a plan. Or something of a plan.
“What time is the board meeting tomorrow, Kelly?” she asked as she strode past Kelly’s desk with Babette in tow. She wanted to reschedule the meeting for later in the week. Or even next week. But she knew that would only cause panic. Which meant that she and Babette had exactly twenty-four hours to come up with new designs for their men’s line. Twenty-four hours to save Olivia from looking like the ditzy adopted stepchild.
“Nine o’clock,” Kelly said as she stared at Babette.
“This is Ms. Fontaine,” Olivia made the introduction. “She’s the Paris designer who is helping me with the new line.”
“Should I get you a coffee, Ms. Fontaine?” Kelly asked. “Or would you prefer French fries?”
Babette lifted her nose and strode into the office. “Your American humor escapes me.”
Olivia had started to follow her when a thought struck her. “Where is Mr. Beaumont? I thought he was waiting to see me.”
“He was. But then Mr. Melvin showed up and they went to his office.”
That made things a lot easier. Jason would take care of getting the contract, and Olivia wouldn’t have to see Deacon again. The tinge of disappointment that settled in her stomach was easily explained by lack of caffeine.
“Could you get me some coffee, please, Kelly? In fact, bring an entire pot. I think I’m going to need it.”
It turned out that not even an entire pot of coffee was enough to help Olivia deal with Babette. The inspired, innovative designer from Paris had turned into a whiny prima donna who couldn’t seem to draw anything that didn’t look like it belonged in a drag queen’s closet. And after seven hours of neon jockstraps, leather briefs, and see-through pajamas, Olivia was ready to admit that Viva la Girl Power couldn’t generate enough power to turn on a lightbulb, let alone save an entire company. And when someone tapped on the door, Olivia was relieved to take a break from the madness.
“Hey.” Parker peeked his head in. His gaze took in Babette, who was sprawled out on the couch sobbing, then returned to Olivia. “If you’re busy, I can come back later.”
Babette stopped sobbing and sat up. After giving him the once-over, she sent Parker a weak smile and proceeded to speak to him in French. When he only stared at her in confusion, she flopped back on the couch. “Barbarians.”
Olivia wanted to show her “barbarians.” She wanted to slap the snot out of her. Instead she walked over to her desk and buzzed Kelly.
“Could you take Ms. Fontaine shopping? I’m sure she would love the break, and you can charge anything she wants to my account.”
Babette perked up immediately, but didn’t offer one word of gratitude as she got to her feet and walked to the door. “I’m sure I won’t find any-zing, but it’s better than being held prisoner.”
“Be back in two hours,” Olivia said as Kelly came in the door and escorted Babette out. When they were gone, Parker spoke.
