La Brat (11 page)

* * * *

Eugenie got up at around six in the early evening. She wandered into her living room then switched on the news while she fixed herself something to eat. She ate with her microwaved meal-for-one balanced on her knee in front of the television, and started to plan the rest of her life.

So Paris wasn’t happening. That was a shame, but it had demonstrated that, Aaron Praed aside, she was capable of getting an interview for a good job and of performing well. Maybe she could win herself a promotion, or there would be other jobs. Not of the Totally Five Star standard probably, but good enough. She began to wonder if there might be recruitment agencies out there, executive headhunters she could register with. Perhaps she should revisit her CV, or look for some training in the hospitality industry. That would enhance her prospects, surely. Oh yes, there was a lot she could do if she set her mind on this. Her future was hers to control and it was time she got on with it.

She dumped her empty plate by the sink and went to fire up her laptop.

She had twenty-seven unread emails. Three were from the TFS group. The first of these, which had been waiting for her since ten seventeen that morning, was from Madeleine Lambert. The second was from Elise Rougin, and the third was from Aaron.

Eugenie knew the protocols. Madame Lambert would be emailing to tell her that she’d been unsuccessful but to thank her for her interest in Totally Five Star Hotels. Madame Rougin would be wanting to offer her the opportunity to seek feedback on her interview performance. God only knew what Aaron wanted. She’d start with Madame Lambert.

From: Madeleine Lambert

To: Eugenie d’André

Date: 27 April 2013

Subject: Events Coordinator, TFS Paris

Dear Ms. D’André,

Thank you for attending the interviews earlier this week in relation to the above post.

I am pleased to inform you that the panel has instructed me to make you an offer of employment. You will find the principal details attached to this email. Please could you let me know within five working days if you intend to accept this offer? If you have any questions regarding the contractual arrangements, please direct those to me. All other queries can be dealt with by senior staff at TFS Paris.

I understand that Elise Rougin will be in touch with you to agree on a start date and discuss the induction arrangements.

Finally, I would like to take this opportunity to welcome you to the Totally Five Star Group.

Yours sincerely,

M. Lambert

Eugenie stared at the screen, rereading the short message three times before its meaning sank in. An offer. They were offering her a job.
The
job.

Holy fucking shit!

She ignored the attachment for now and went straight to Elise Rougin’s message

From: Elise Rougin

To: Eugenie d’André

Date: 27 April 2013

Subject: The Job

Dear Eugenie,

I trust you had a safe and pleasant journey home.

You have received an email from our HR department confirming our offer of the post. May I just add my congratulations on your stunning performance in the interview, and say what a pleasure it was to meet you yesterday. You were the unanimous choice of the panel. Rarely is any recruitment decision so simple.

I hope you will accept our offer, and I look forward to welcoming you to our team.

Some formalities. Your application states that you must give one month’s notice to your current employer. On that basis, and to allow for the necessary exchange of paperwork, contracts, etc., may I suggest we agree a start date five weeks from Monday?

If you require it TFS Paris can provide accommodation in our staff apartments, or you may prefer to make your own arrangements. Please let me know. Your starting salary and other particulars are in the documentation provided by Madame Lambert. I will be on leave from tomorrow for two weeks, but please don’t hesitate to contact my PA if you need to know anything else.

Best regards, and once again, welcome to TFS Paris.

Elise Rougin

‘Unanimous choice’. ‘Stunning performance’. ‘Simple decision’. Eugenie replayed the accolades in her head. She knew she’d done well at the interview, but had not expected such lavish praise. And no mention at all of the final couple of minutes when her brain had turned to porridge and she’d stammered like a broken record. And neither, it seemed, had Aaron undermined her efforts with any comments of his own regarding her less than stellar past. Which brought her nicely to his email. She clicked on his name in her inbox.

From: Aaron Praed

To: Eugenie

Date: 27 April 2013

Subject: Congratulations

Genie,

It was lovely to see you again. You looked well.

I gather we are to be colleagues. And neighbors—your office is next door to mine.

See you in a month or so.

Aaron

Christ, not a hint of bitterness, nor any of the acrimony she’d expected from him. Perhaps he was prepared to let bygones be bygones. The office next door—shit!

The next hour or so she spent in a flurry of activity as she downloaded her proposed contract, the offer letter, her terms and conditions of employment. She read those, found nothing unexpected or untoward, replied to Madeleine Lambert accepting the post, then to Elise Rougin thanking her for her comments and agreeing in principle to the suggested start date, though that would be subject to agreement with her current employer. She would hand in her resignation tomorrow.

Her final email of the evening was to Aaron. She took much longer to compose it, uncertain what she wanted to say to him. Eventually, she settled on the truth.

From: Eugenie d’André

To: Aaron Praed

Date: 28 April 2013

Subject: Thank You

Hi Aaron,

Thanks for your note, and for the congratulations.

It was a shock to see you yesterday, I think you know that. I owe you my gratitude, first for not letting me make a bigger fool of myself than I already did, then for not saying anything about what happened between us in the past. You could have ruined my chances of being offered the post and you did not. I do appreciate that. This job means a lot to me. I am so pleased to have been offered this opportunity and I intend to make a success of it.

I will be starting work in about five weeks. I hope it will not be a problem that I am in the next office, but if so I could request a move.

We will be colleagues, as you say, and neighbors, perhaps. I hope too that we can be friends in time.

Yours,

Genie

She hit send and started to compose her letter of resignation, ready to hand it in to the personnel department of the council in the morning. A few minutes later, the new message icon appeared in the corner of her screen.

From: Aaron Praed

To: Eugenie

Date: 28 April 2013

Subject: No new office will be required

Brief and to the point. And exactly what she’d wanted him to say.

* * * *

The next few days passed in a blur as Eugenie put in place the arrangements for her relocation to Paris. She had to give notice to her landlord, send emails to countless utilities and official departments, complete endless change of address forms. Her boss declared himself sorry to be losing her, but assured her his reference would be a glowing one. He applauded her decision and the initiative she had shown in landing herself this plum prize. He wished her every success.

Her other colleagues took much the same attitude, and Eugenie knew she would miss the friends she had made there.

Most of them. She went online to discontinue her membership of the various kink clubs she had frequented, preferring not to appear in person anywhere on the scene. She was embarrassed, not proud of her behavior over the last couple of years. Sexual promiscuity was not really a concept that meant much in her circles, but even so, she wished she’d been a little more discerning in her choices.

She owed herself more respect, let alone the Dom’s she’d used in her self-destructive antics.

But that was done with. Over. She was starting afresh.
La Brat
was history.

Chapter Eight

She was here. She’d arrived. It was real.

Eugenie sat heavily on the bed in her studio apartment in the staff wing of Totally Five Star Paris and gazed around her. The fitted furniture was modern and sleek. Gleaming whitewood doors fronted the wardrobe and drawers waiting to be filled with her stuff. The place was compact, but perfectly adequate. It was also ridiculously inexpensive for a self-contained flat in the most sought after district in one of the world’s most sophisticated cities. She was not a stone’s throw from the Champs-Élysées, could take a morning stroll through Les Tuileries if she wished, the Eiffel Tower was no more than twenty minutes or so from where she now sat.

She’d brought a large suitcase with her and arranged for a few other possessions and the rest of her clothes to be sent on. She busied herself putting her things away, opening and shutting drawers, checking the contents of the kitchenette. Although utensils and cookery were provided in the furnished studio, she could see she would need to buy some provisions quickly. She’d ask at reception where the nearest mini market was. She didn’t expect to be doing much cooking as staff could get a discount at any of the hotel restaurants. Eugenie suspected she’d be a regular at the garden bistro. In fact, she wondered if they’d be open now.

It was Sunday evening. She’d been traveling all day and was tired. She was also hungry, and her stomach won out. She changed into a fresh skirt and blouse, tugged a brush through her hair and set off in search of sustenance. She hoped no one saw the little happy dance she did along the corridor leading to the lift. She had a dignified position to uphold now and she was a member of the senior staff at one of the most prestigious hotels in the world. But still…

* * * *

The following morning, at eight o’clock on the dot, Eugenie presented herself at the desk of Elise Rougin’s PA. She was ushered straight through into the general manager’s office, where a crowd awaited her. Elise came across the room to meet her and launched into a round of introductions.

Pierre Rivaux she had met already. Eugenie’s smile of recognition was warm as she shook his hand. Next, she was introduced to Claudette Leclerc, a statuesque woman who she learned was in charge of marketing and public relations. Jean Raymond, a middle-aged man with hair just starting to turn gray at the temples, managed customer services, which he went on to explain meant anything to do with the reception staff, entertainment, spa facilities—pretty much everything that wasn’t connected with eating, drinking or sleeping. Eating and drinking was the domain of a gregarious Italian called Antonio Alecia, an accomplished chef who now presided over all the hotel’s restaurants and bars. A small, bustling woman, Annette Giraud, was in charge of all matters related to housekeeping and the creature comforts enjoyed by guests. Fleur Mansouri she had met at the interview, and of course, she already knew Aaron Praed who, Elise explained, was responsible for keeping the guests and staff safe.

Eugenie reckoned he’d be good at it.

This group made up the entire senior management team, and now Eugenie was part of it. Elise explained that it was their regular habit to meet each Monday morning at eight to go over the events of the coming week, address any issues, and generally keep in touch with each other. The meetings were informal and brief, but a necessary part of the routine. She would be expected to make them a priority. Eugenie had no problem with that.

They all took their seats around the circular meeting table in Elise’s office. Eugenie was told to sit anywhere. The first few minutes were spent on a quick round of news and highlights from each department. Eugenie tried to take notes but soon abandoned that and opted to listen instead.

Anton had decided to change their fresh meat supplier for one more local and known to adhere to compassionate farming methods. Elise nodded, and explained to Eugenie that this was an important principle at TFS Paris. Annette Giraud chipped in that she was hoping to recruit three or four more maids later in the week, and Fleur confirmed that defibrillators were now installed on each floor and staff trained in their use.

The round-up completed, Elise turned her attention to the most pressing matter on their current agenda—
the
wedding.

For Eugenie’s benefit, she explained that Lucas Belanger, the captain of the French football team and a center forward playing in the top flight of the Italian league, was known to be looking for a venue for his wedding to Farah Ajram. The bride was less high profile, but probably substantially wealthier as her father owned half the oil production in the United Arab Emirates. This was to be the wedding of the decade, and Totally Five Star Paris wanted to land it.

Lucas and Farah were due at the hotel in two days’ time, complete with their usual entourage, and Elise was pretty sure the hotel was among the final one or two venues they were still considering. Their location was an asset. Farah had studied in Paris and loved the city. Transport links were as good as any in the world, which would be a significant factor in assembling guests from every continent. The facilities offered here were known to be superb, their reputation was second to none, and now that they had an accomplished events organizer on the team, this might just swing it.