The Mistress

CHAPTER FOUR

Charlotte's POV

"Miss Garnier... there's been a change regarding your appointment."

My smile vanished.

A change?

The HR manager quickly noticed my panic and smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry. Please, have a seat."

I sat, my heart pounding.

"You originally applied for the Administrative Assistant position," she began.

"Yes."

"That position has been filled."

My heart dropped.

"Then... why am I here?"

She laughed softly.

"You haven't lost your job. After reviewing your interview, it was decided your skills would be better suited elsewhere."

She slid a document toward me.

At the top was my name.

Executive Personal Secretary to the Chief Executive Officer.

I stared at it in disbelief.

"I think this belongs to someone else."

"It doesn't."

"I've never worked as a personal secretary."

"True," she admitted, "but someone believed you'd be a better fit."

Someone?

Before I could ask who, she added, "You may decline if you'd like."

I thought about the apartment, the rent, and the promise Marie and I had made to build lives of our own.

This wasn't the job I'd wanted.

But it was an opportunity.

"I'd like to accept."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

She stood.

"Come with me. It's time to meet your new boss."

The executive floor was unlike anything downstairs.

Dark wood, glass offices overlooking Paris, and employees who moved with quiet confidence.

Outside a beautiful office, a silver plaque caught my attention.

Charlotte Garnier

Executive Personal Secretary

My office.

I stepped inside, taking in the polished desk, computer, shelves, and breathtaking view of Paris.

For a moment, I simply stood there.

Only months ago, I'd been struggling to find where I belonged.

Now I had my own office.

Maybe this really was the beginning of a new life.

"Ready?" the HR manager asked.

"To meet Mr. Moreau."

We stopped outside another office.

Alexander Moreau

Chief Executive Officer

The same man whose suit I'd ruined with coffee.

The same man who interviewed me.

Now...

My boss.

The HR manager knocked.

"Come in."

Alexander looked up from his paperwork.

"Thank you, Claire."

Once she left, silence filled the room.

"Good morning, Mr. Moreau."

"Good morning, Miss Garnier."

He gestured for me to sit.

"I assume HR explained your appointment."

"Yes."

"And?"

"I wasn't expecting it."

"You applied to be an administrative assistant."

"Exactly."

He slid a blue folder across the desk.

"These are your responsibilities."

Inside were pages detailing my duties managing his calendar, arranging meetings, handling confidential calls, preparing travel plans, organizing files, and reviewing correspondence.

The list seemed endless.

"This is... a lot."

"It is."

He met my eyes.

"Do you still wish to accept the position?"

I thought about why I'd left my parents' mansion.

I wanted to build something for myself.

"I do."

He nodded once.

"I don't expect perfection."

That surprised me.

"I expect effort. If you make a mistake, fix it. If you don't understand something, ask. I have no interest in employees pretending to know everything."

"I'll remember that."

"I hope so."

He stood.

"Sasha will help you settle in."

As I reached the door, he spoke again.

"One more thing."

"Yes?"

"Be here before me every morning."

"Of course."

"I arrive at seven-thirty."

Seven-thirty?

"I'll be here."

Outside, a woman leaned against my desk.

"Sasha," she introduced herself.

"How did it go?"

"He explained my responsibilities."

"And?"

"I think I'll enjoy working here."

Her smile disappeared for the briefest second.

"Let's hope you last."

Before I could ask what she meant, she walked away.

The morning passed faster than expected.

I answered calls, organized documents, and reviewed Alexander's schedule over and over.

By noon I was finally beginning to relax.

Maybe I could actually do this.

"Miss Garnier."

Alexander stood outside his office.

"Come in."

He handed me several files.

"I'll be meeting with Laurent Group this afternoon. Print the presentation, organize it, and have everything in the conference room before three-thirty."

I quickly wrote everything down.

He noticed.

"You take notes."

"I don't trust my memory on my first day."

A flicker of approval crossed his face.

"Good. I dislike repeating myself."

"I'll try not to make you."

"I'm counting on it."

As I prepared to leave, he reminded me the meeting started in forty-five minutes.

"I should probably stop talking," I admitted.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"I was about to say the same thing."

I hurried out, embarrassed.

Sasha looked up as I passed.

"Done already?"

"Yes."

"I thought you'd be in there longer."

"I'm not sure that's a compliment."

"It wasn't."

The afternoon became a blur of schedules, phone calls, and meetings.

Around three o'clock, Daniel stopped by my desk.

I met Daniel during my interview.

"How's our newest secretary holding up?"

"I haven't cried yet."

"Excellent. That's usually a good sign."

He looked over my organized desk approvingly.

"The executive floor notices everything."

Before I could answer, Sasha interrupted, handing Daniel a stack of contracts.

After she walked away, Daniel whispered,

"Does she always sound like that?"

"Only when she's awake."

I laughed.

"I heard that," Sasha called from the hallway without turning around.

Daniel only grinned.

Later my desk phone rang.

"Mr. Moreau's office. Charlotte speaking."

"Miss Garnier."

Alexander.

"The Laurent meeting has been moved to tomorrow morning. Rearrange the schedule."

"I'll handle it."

He studied me for a moment.

"Can you manage that?"

"I can."

"And if you can't?"

"I'll let you know."

He nodded.

"Good."

As I turned to leave, he stopped me once more.

"You've done well today."

I blinked.

"Thank you."

"It was your first day. I expected more mistakes."

The words escaped before I could stop them.

"Should I be offended?"

For a second, I regretted speaking.

Then, to my complete surprise...

He laughed.

A quiet, genuine laugh.

"I suppose you could be."

"I think I'll choose not to."

"A wise decision."

His expression settled back into its usual calm.

"Enjoy your evening, Miss Garnier."

"You too, Mr. Moreau."

I left his office smiling.

I'd actually made the CEO laugh.

It felt strangely like a victory.

Then I noticed Sasha watching us from across the hallway.

She wasn't hiding it anymore.

She looked angry.

For the first time since joining Moreau Industries, I realized learning the job might not be my biggest challenge.

Surviving someone who had already decided I didn't belong might be.

By six o'clock, my first day was finally over.

Daniel joined me at the elevators.

"You survived."

"Barely."

"That's all anyone expects on the first day."

"What about the second?"

He grinned.

"That's when the real work begins."

As we entered the elevator, Sasha walked past with another stack of files.

"Goodnight," I said.

She barely acknowledged us.

Outside, the cool Paris air felt refreshing.

For the first time in months...

I felt like I belonged somewhere.

My phone buzzed.

Marie: Where are you?

Me: Just left work. Twenty minutes away.

Her reply came instantly.

Good. I bought dessert.

I smiled all the way home.

The smell of garlic and butter greeted me before I even opened the apartment door.

"I'm home!"

"In the kitchen!"

Marie stood over the stove wearing one of my oversized hoodies and an apron that read Kiss the Chef.

"You cooked?"

"I reheated," she corrected proudly.

We laughed and sat down together.

After a few quiet moments, she sighed.

"My parents owe me an apology."

I asked what had happened.

She explained that while driving to a film set that morning, her mother had called, claiming her father had suddenly collapsed and begging her to come home.

Panicked, she'd rushed over.

Only to discover her father was perfectly healthy.

Instead, he'd been sitting in the living room with a stranger named Julian.

Her parents had lied to trick her into meeting a man they believed was the perfect husband.

She'd been furious.

Without listening to another word, she'd walked out.

I reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

"I still can't believe they lied," she whispered.

"I can."

She looked at me.

"We both know parents aren't always who we hope they'll be."

She nodded sadly.

"I thought they trusted me."

"They're scared."

"Of what?"

"That you're building a life that doesn't include the one they planned for you."

She smiled softly.

"You always know what to say."

"I really don't."

She lifted her glass.

"To disappointing our parents."

I laughed.

"I don't think that's something we should celebrate."

"Fine."

She grinned.

"To building lives we're proud of."

I lifted my own glass.

"That... I'll drink to."

Our glasses clinked together.

For the first time all day, everything felt peaceful.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new mistakes, and new lessons.

But tonight...

I wasn't the unwanted daughter.

Or the nervous new secretary.

I was simply Charlotte.

A young woman sitting in a tiny apartment with her best friend, chasing a future that finally felt like it belonged to her.

For now...

That was enough.