by JA Low
“Oh, hi.” I’m feeling a little flustered, I’m beyond tired. Louis’ party went until all hours of the morning. After he tried to give me a show by the pool but failed, I tried to go back to bed to grab some sleep to start a fresh on day one of my new job. But due to the private porn performance some woman decided to give early in the morning, sleep was not an option. Having to listen to some woman fake an orgasm, and badly at that, at 5am was not how I wanted to start my day.
Louis - 1
Emily - 1
“I’m Gabriel, Louis’ chef.” His chocolate eyes looking me over leisurely.
“Nice to meet you.” I hold out my hand, he ignores it, coming around the kitchen counter and standing in front of me.
“That’s not how we greet each other in France.” A sly smirk falls across his lips. He steps up to me and kisses my cheeks twice, a slight blush warms them. “What would you like for breakfast?” he asks, his dimples popping out.
“I can just grab something; you don’t have to—” He doesn’t let me finish.
“It’s my job to serve you.” The French words rolling over his tongue seductively.
“Only if you are sure?” Because I feel bad, I’m not used to this level of richness.
“Of course. I’m just about to pull out some fresh croissants from the oven.” My stomach decides at that moment to make itself known. Awkward. We both burst out laughing. “And I have coffee too.”
“I’m going to need that after last night.” Gabriel looks up at me with a frown, the tone of my voice gives it away. “Mr. Marchant turned up last night unannounced.” Gabriel’s eyes widen, then he chuckles.
“Ah, let me guess. Louis threw a party, didn't he?” I nod. He hands me a beautiful brewed cup of coffee. “Don’t worry you’ll get used to it.” He shrugs.
“This is a common occurrence?” Gabriel nods as he busies himself in the kitchen. “So I need to invest in some good ear plugs then?”
“Maybe buy a set of those noise cancelling headsets instead. I have a pair.” Gabriel laughs as he pulls the buttery croissants from the oven.
Of course the croissants are delicious. If I’m not careful I’m going to put on a whole lot of weight if I keep devouring this buttery goodness every morning. Thankfully, Gabriel also made a fruit bowl for me so I don’t feel too bad for the extra croissant I ate. We’re sitting there chatting, laughing at some story he’s telling me, when we hear someone clear their throat behind us. Gabriel jumps to attention and instantly moves away from me. Louis is standing in the kitchen doorway, a different woman hanging from his arm than the one I saw giving him a blow job. His face is like thunder looking between Gabriel and I.
“Good morning,” I say cheerily. Hoping I can kill him with kindness, those blue eyes narrow at me and silence filters through the kitchen.
“Louis, I’m starving,” the woman beside him whines. We all cringe at the sound of her nasally voice.
“The croissants are amazing. I had two.” I rub my stomach. She looks at me as if I’m crazy. Condescending eyes look me up and down.
“Do you have any idea how much fat is in one of those?” she says with an American accent.
“Um, no.” I feel awfully embarrassed at this woman’s tone toward me.
“I didn’t think so. It looks like you don’t worry about those sorts of things.” Her eyes trail over me again. Gabriel drops the plate at her harsh comment. I’m stunned. I’ve never met anyone so mean in my life. I can feel the stirrings of utter humiliation creeping up through my veins, my whole body is heating up, my neck is probably red and my ears feel like they are on fire. I will not let this woman intimidate me. Sitting up straighter, I look at her.
“And I see you don’t worry about being sloppy seconds.” Her jaw drops, she looks shocked that someone like me would dare fight back to someone like her. I look over her shoulder and Louis has a bemused smirk across his face. When his eyes meet mine his lips quickly form a thin line.
“Gabriel, Stephanie will be taking her breakfast to go,” Louis tells his chef. The girl flinches.
“My name is Sophia.” Her voice goes up a couple of octaves looking shocked that Louis has forgotten her name. I don’t hide my smile.
“Sorry, my English is not so great,” he says in perfect English. Her face softens a little. Seriously? She reaches out and lightly touches his chest as she stares up at him adoringly. Is this chick for real? Gabriel and I give each other a look of what the fuck.
“I had fun last night,” she purrs. Louis’ body stiffens. “You were amazing.” She says the word with a pop, trying to be seductive. Louis doesn’t say a thing; her hand moves from his chest down his stomach until her hand squeezes his dick. “You want another round, big guy.” Louis swallows hard and tries to extract her fingers from his crotch.
“No thanks. Once was enough.” His words are curt. Sophia stiffens. Like I said, he’s an asshole. “There is a car waiting outside for you, he will take you anywhere.” Wow. What a dick. Sophia is being served some karma.
“Seriously? You’re kicking me out?” Her voice booms through the kitchen, making my ears bleed.
“Yes,” he says coolly. “Gabriel, I would love a coffee.” Louis basically ignores her, which she doesn’t appreciate one bit. She tugs on his t-shirt, forcing him to look at her.
“You’re an asshole.” She pokes him in the chest with her overly manicured fingernail. How does she wipe herself with those nails? I mean that would have to hurt, they look like daggers. She probably has a man servant to do something so menial as that, hence the nails.
“You understood it was a one-night thing,” Louis tells her.
“But I let you put it in my ass.” Silence falls across the kitchen. I choke on the sip of coffee that I unfortunately took at that very moment, I’m trying not to produce it back up through my nostrils. Gabriel stops himself in the middle of brewing Louis’ coffee, the dark liquid falling over the side of the espresso cup as he stares in amazement at the woman. Louis looks like he wished the ground would swallow him up right there. She taps her high heeled foot impatiently waiting for Louis to respond. Louis looks to Gabriel and I for help, his blue eyes pleading for some kind of intervention.
“She let you do butt stuff on the first night, she’s a keeper,” I say in French to Louis, my little revenge for him being a dick for last night. Obviously my French surprises him. The blonde sends daggers my way.
“I don’t pay you to sit around and eat croissants. Do your job,” he demands in French. Oh. This is how he is going to play me on the first day. Okay. I jump up out of the chair and smile.
“Sophia, if you would like to follow me. I have your I fucked Louis Marchant and all I got was this lousy t-shirt top. It comes in a range of colours.” I give her my brightest smile and Gabriel sniggers behind me while Louis curses me.
“You’re a bitch,” Sophia snarls at me.
“Don’t you dare speak to my assistant like that.” Louis voice rises. “Now, it’s time for you to go.” He points to the exit. She throws a slew of curses at him, then dramatically turns on her heels and saunters off. Louis scrubs his face in frustration while Gabriel and I burst out laughing. I’ve never seen anything like that before. Louis glares at both of us.
“I’ll be in my studio. You can deliver my coffee there.” With that, he too dramatically exists stage left. Gabriel and I burst out laughing again.
“That was crazy,” I say.
“I would love to say that was a one off, but it wasn’t.” Gabriel busies himself making the coffee again.
“I can’t believe she said that.”
“Women will say and do a lot of things to keep Louis’ attention.” He shrugs.
“Ugh. So I’m going to have to deal with bitchy women on a daily basis then?”
“Depends on his mood.” Great. “It’s become a recurring theme over the past four months. It’s like he’s trying to prove to himself that he can still pull women or something.” Typical male response to being ch
eated on I guess.
“Why, because his ex ran off with a younger man?” Gabriel lets out a sigh.
“Don’t let him catch you talking about his ex, anyone who mentions her or him has to deal with his wrath. Their names are to never be spoken here.” That’s good to know, not like I would ever bring them up, but still, if by accident I don’t want him to yell at me anymore than he already has. “His ex was a real…” He looks around to make sure we are truly alone. “Bitch.” My eyes widen, I need to know more.
“Really?”
“I lived with them for many years. Yves was not the first artist that she slept with behind his back. There were a lot of people she tried to seduce. She was beautiful and she knew it.” I nod in agreement. I’ve seen photos of her, she’s stunning. “She even tried to sleep with me.” I let out a shocked gasp, he nods furiously.
“Did you?”
“What? Of course not. Louis gave me a chance and put me through culinary school. I owe him a lot. There was no way in the world I would ever do that. But not all employees were so…” He doesn’t need to finish; I get the gist.
“And he never knew?” Gabriel shakes his head.
“I tried to…subtly tell him, but he was in love. The woman had him wrapped around her finger and she could always convince him the rumours were started by jealous people. People who wanted to see him not succeed.” Wow, she sounds like a piece of work. “Here.” He hands me Louis’ coffee.
“What do you want me to do with this?”
“Take it to him.” He gives me a look. I’m his assistant so this does fall under my job description. “His studio is at the other end of the garden, past the pool.” Gabriel wishes me luck. Great.
After a couple of wrong turns I eventually find the studio. I lightly knock on the door but no one answers. Should I just walk in? I know how artists are when they are in their space; they generally don’t like to be disturbed, but he did ask for his coffee. I push on the wooden door; it creaks as it opens for me. I step up the front step and into Louis’ secret world. Everywhere you look there are thousands of paint splatters all around the room; even the wooden floor is covered. My eyes are drawn to the canvasses hanging around the room, the dark broodiness of them, the deep, dark red anger in some, slashes and scratches on others as if he has literally torn his art to pieces searching for some kind of Catharism. I’m so mesmerised by his magic that I don’t notice the bucket on the floor and trip over it, the ceramic cup of coffee launching itself across the room and directly all over Louis. The scalding liquid leaving a dark stain against his grey t-shirt. He screams as his t-shirt soaks it all in. I fall with a thud and a crash against the wooden floor, scraping my skin against it. That hurt.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he screams. I look up from my position on the floor and he’s pulling off his t-shirt and patting his stomach, cursing.
“I’m so sorry.” I scramble up. “You need cold water to stop it burning.” I rush over to the sink. Frantically, I look for something that I can soak in water. Finding an old rag, I turn the tap on then rush back and place the cool rag onto his taut stomach. The muscles tensing as I touch him, he quickly recoils back from my touch.
“Don’t touch me,” he yells. “You’ve done enough.” He’s angry. I totally understand that, I would be as well. He’s probably got third degree burns over his body. Over his incredible body. Wow. Who knew artists looked like that? The ones I’ve met have either been old or they are as skinny as a rake. But Louis Marchant, with his Mediterranean tan, a body chiselled from the finest marble, it’s hard not to look and appreciate it. His body is art in itself. “Just get the hell out, you’ve done enough.” My stomach sinks. His face is red with anger; he’s still dabbing at the red marks on his stomach. He’s going to fire me for sure now. It’s not like I’ve made a good impression on him or anything. Twenty-four hours seems like a new record for holding a job.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” The look on his face tells me he isn’t in the mood to hear my apology. I turn on my heel and rush out of his studio, the tears threatening to fall down my cheeks.
“Are you okay? Hey what happened?” Daniel surprises me, catching me as I rush inside, the tears fall down my cheeks.
“I…”
“Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?” His eyes look at my cut up knees, the blood falling down my shins.
“Oh God, no.” Daniel’s face is clouded in worry. “I tripped over a bucket on the floor and spilt a cup of hot coffee all over him. I guess when I landed I ripped the skin off my knees.” Daniel stills, his head tilts to the side.
“You spilt coffee on him?” I nod trying to put a professional face on. This has to be the worst first day at a job I’ve ever had. His hand comes out and wipes the tears from my cheeks, my stomach does a somersault as he touches me.
“Yes. It was an accident.”
“I don’t know if I would be upset if it wasn’t. He can be a dick.” Daniel makes me smile. “Gabriel told me about the party last night, I’m sorry. I had no idea he was coming here until I got back to Paris.”
“No, it’s fine. This is his house, if he wants to party then I just have to deal with it.”
“You don’t have to. I know what he’s like when he parties, he gets out of control. You can always call me and I can arrange a hotel room for you to stay in. You should be able to feel safe here.” I give him a smile, because Daniel is a really nice guy and I kind of wish he was my boss. He kind of is, but I mean, I kind of wish I got to go to work with him every day instead of some self-destructive artist.
“I’ll let you know if that ever happens.” He gives me a nod and marches off toward Louis’ studio. I wish I could be a fly on the wall for that conversation.
7
Louis
Motherfucker, that hurts. It hurts so much. Is my skin peeling?
“What the hell is going on?” Daniel surprises me, entering the studio, looking pissed off, which isn’t unusual. “Why is your assistant in tears?” I can hear the accusation in his voice. His eyes widening as he notices me shirtless. “You didn’t—?” I don’t let him finish his words.
“Are you fucking serious right now? You think I would force myself onto a woman?” My chest is heaving with adrenaline. Daniel shrugs. “She poured fucking coffee over me.” I pull the rag away from my stomach, which is bright red from the scalding liquid. Daniel doesn’t react. Dick.
“Why was she bleeding then?” That bit of information gets my attention. “Her knees, they were bleeding.” How did that…oh.
“She tripped over, hence the coffee all over me. But I didn’t notice she was hurt, I was trying to not get third degree burns.” He eyes me again, suspiciously. “What are you doing here?” I dab the cool material against my skin again.
“I wanted to make sure you were behaving.” He arches a brow at me. He knows about the party. Fucking Gabriel.
“You know what? Fuck you. If I want to party in my own goddamn house I will.” Throwing the rag at him, I hit him square in the jaw. “I never wanted an assistant, especially a totally incompetent one like her. She can’t even serve me a coffee without fucking it up. You hired her because she’s beautiful, not because she’s any good at the job.” A smile falls across his face.
“I knew you noticed her.” I stalk angrily toward him.
“I don’t give a shit if she’s a fucking Victoria’s Secret model, she is still fucking useless.”
“Your studio is a mess. There is shit everywhere, I nearly tripped over a bucket as I came in.” I roll my eyes at my brother.
“This is my space, everything is where I need it to be.”
“Give her a chance before you write her off,” Daniel tells me.
“I don’t need an assistant. I’ve told you this.” Grabbing a spare t-shirt from my pile I slip it on, my skin still a little delicate as the cotton touches it. I grab the bottle of tequila from the shelf and take a sip. Daniel’s eyes narrow at me, the disappointment comes off him in waves bu
t he doesn’t say anything.
“Okay then, tell me this. Are you going to be in control of your social media? Are you going to answer the million and one messages you get on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter?” I grunt, he knows the answer to this. “Are you going to sort through your mail, answer your emails, check your voicemail?” I don’t like where this is headed. “Exactly, you want to be able to paint, even if it’s this demonic shit.” He waves his hands at my creations. “So, trust me when I say you need help. Remember, Elisabeth did all this for you.”
“I told you not to mention her name,” I growl at my brother; he’s really working my last nerve.
“Oh for fuck’s sake grow up, Louis. You need to get back to the real world and stop living in this self-centred bubble you seem to be living in, because this shit is getting old.” I ignore him. “The longer you keep going on this destructive path the longer they win.” I take another swig of tequila. “As much as I hate to say it, the woman was a brilliant brand maker.” I sneer at him. “I don’t want to compare the two of you, but Yves is everywhere. She’s turned him into the biggest celebrity in the art scene at the moment.” That little bit of information jabs at me like a knife.
“But that isn’t me.” I take another swig of tequila.
“I know but his art is selling and for a lot of money.” I frown at my brother. “I know, I know, it’s not about the money it’s about the art.” He mocks me. “But your art has given you a great life, Louis.”
“And it took it away as well.” Daniel places his hand on my shoulder.
“You could have been anyone and Elisabeth would still have done what she did.” I hate that he’s right. She’s an opportunist. I may have sunk into some alcoholic funk, but I heard the chatter, the rumours, the gossip. I now know Yves wasn’t the first man she’d slept with while we were married; she was just less discreet with him. Maybe she could see his star rising and that’s why she didn’t care that she got caught. I loved her with every inch of my soul. Giving someone that much control over you is dangerous, especially when they appear to be not what you thought they were. I probably would have forgiven her, that’s how in love with her I was. As long as she still loved me, as long as she was still in my life, even if I didn’t have all of her, just a piece of her was enough for me. I’m an addict, a junkie, and she’s my drug of choice. I still crave her. I still wake in the middle of the night reaching for her, remembering what it’s like to have her love shine directly onto me. I hate that her love has been replaced with anger, bitterness, hurt. I hate that she’s changed me into someone that I don’t even know anymore. I hate that she’s taken the colours from my world. This isn’t healthy, I know this, but I don’t know how to stop. The obsessive feelings I have over seeing the two of them together is not healthy. Daniel doesn’t realise I still check up on Elisabeth online. I obsess over the images I see of the two of them, I hate the way she still lights up my screen even though her light is directed elsewhere. I’m sick, that has to be the only explanation why I torture myself daily. Looking at their happy faces I wonder what I did wrong. Why was I not enough for her? What the hell do I do now?
