Chapter 6: Vivienne Le Clair
1592 Words
Vivienne Le Clair POV
“You’re on in two minutes, Ms. Le Clair.”
Backstage at the Valentino show smelled like hairspray and sweat, sounding less like a high-fashion event and more like a daycare.
Someone was at the corner crying about a shoe, other models stood in formation as assistants made last minute adjustments.
It was a typical fashion week circus, which Vivienne found amusing. She’d attended more often but it was simply too loud.
“Kairo’s team confirmed for the debrief at four,” Jade murmured directly into her earpiece. “Also the final numbers came in on his Vanity Fair cycle.”
“And?” Vivienne asked, not slowing her pace.
“Thirty-two million impressions in the first twenty-four hours. His public approval rating jumped nineteen points. Only the Snoop Dogg feature has surpassed those metrics this quarter.”
“As expected?”
“Slightly better.”
“Good.” She checked the card in her hand. “What else?”
“Priya Lamar’s stylist called about the Met Gala look—the controversial one.”
“The one that depicts a v****a on the fabric?”
“The very one.”
“Tell her I said it’s perfect. Don't change a thread.”
“Understood. Also — Monsieur Marchand’s office called. He wants a meeting tomorrow morning.”
Vivienne kept walking. “Alright.”
“You’re on stage in thirty seconds.”
She glanced at the card once and walked out.
The applause subsided as she reached the microphone.
“Valentino has always understood,” she said, her voice carrying cleanly through the room, “that elegance is not about what you add. It’s about the quality you’re consistent with.”
She paused.
“I give you the summer collection.”
She left the stage to more applause and was back in her earpiece before she reached the curtain.
“Car’s at the east exit,” Jade said.
Her personal phone buzzed in her jacket pocket.
Lumi.
“Hi, baby.”
“Mama, guess what happened.”
“Tell me.”
“Julia said her drawing was better than mine and Ms. Renard said they were both good but I could tell she liked mine more because she put mine on the wall first and Julia’s was second and the wall only has space for eight drawings and mine was first which means—”
“Yours was the best.”
“Yeah” she paused. “Is that bad to say?”
“Only if you say it to Julia.”
“I didn’t. I only said it in my mind and then to you.”
“Then you’re fine, what else happened?”
“Not much, Marie made pancakes, I saved you some.”
“That’s very thoughtful, bug.”
“And then I ate them because they were delicious and you weren’t here.”
Vivienne chuckled. “That's fair.”
“Ms. Renard says I should share more. But I think sharing is situational.”
Vivienne laughed out loud. “Where on earth did you hear that word?”
“You, mama.”
“Touché.”
Vivienne found the car and got on board, Jade was already waiting inside.
“Mama, are you coming home tonight?”
“Yes, baby bug.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Before you’re asleep.”
“You said that last week.”
Vivienne pressed her eyes closed for half a second.
“I know. I’m sorry about last week.”
“It’s okay.” Her voice shifted, slightly lower. “Marie said you’re an important person, and important people are always busy.”
“Marie is right. But you’re more important than any of it.”
“Even more than the famous people?”
“More than all the famous people combined.”
Lumi giggled.
“Okay, Mama.”
“Yes.”
“You can go back to work now.”
“Thank you for the permission.”
“Bye. I love you the biggest.”
“I love you the biggest back, baby bug.”
The line went quiet.
Vivienne held the phone in her lap for a moment.
“Jade,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Walk me through the Kairo debrief.”
She opened her laptop.
The next morning, Théo Marchand was not alone.
Adrien was at the window when she walked in.
“Ahh.” He spread his hands. “If it isn’t France’s most precious quick fix kit.”
“Adrien.”
“You say my name like a warning every time.” He kissed her on both cheeks. “One day I’ll find out what I did.”
“You exist,” she said. “That’s usually enough.”
He laughed.
Théo, at the table, didn’t bother hiding his smile.
She sat. Looked between them. The Marchand cousins in one room without crystal tumblers of scotch meant there was something important being decided.
“How was the Valentino show?” Adrien asked, pulling his chair around.
“Fine. The designer got his five minutes of curated press out of me, just as he paid for.”
“Always so modest,” Adrien smirked.
Vivienne rolled her eyes. “Why am I here, Théo?”
Théo folded his hands on the table.
“A major American agency has requested our services,” he said. “One of their assets has developed an attitude problem. He paused. “They are worried he might start to hurt the numbers. They want a complete brand rehabilitation.”
Vivienne looked at him steadily.
“I’m overbooked through March.”
“I know.”
“And I don’t do overseas clients. Especially not in—” She bit her tongue before she said Hollywood. “—America.”
Adrien sat up in his chair. “Oh—I already signed off on it though.”
She looked at him.
“The fee they’re offering would make turning them down irresponsible, it was a no brainer.” He shrugged. “Knowing you, it’ll be two weeks and a cover story. A breeze.”
Vivienne looked at the folder on the table.
She looked at Théo.
“One condition,” she said.
“Name it.”
“Suki comes with me.”
Adrien made a sound. “Your nepo baby friend?”
“Why?” Théo asked.
She didn’t respond, she just stared at him.
Théo looked at her for a moment. “Fine. I’ll add her to the roster.”
She reached across the table and picked up the folder. She didn’t open it, she just put it in her bag.
Adrien stood and collected his jacket.
“I’ll leave you love birds.” He touched Vivienne’s shoulder briefly on the way out. “Don’t be too hard on the Americans.”
The door clicked shut.
“You already signed off on the contract too?” Vivienne said.
“Yes.”
“Without asking me.”
“If I had asked you, you would have found an elaborate way to say no.”
“That’s exactly the point, Théo.”
“Even by Marchand standards, the number got Adrien’s attention, and they asked for you specifically, that’s the part Adrien left out.” he said. “I couldn’t turn it down either.”
“You could have told me.”
“I know, that’s what I’m doing now.”
She looked at him. He looked back.
This was how it went with them. She pushed. He held. Neither one broke.
“What about Lumi?” she said. It was the only argument that ever changed anything.
“I’ll handle Lumi.”
“Théo—”
“She has school. She has Marie. She has me.” He said it simply. “ She’ll be fine.
“It’s just another damaged actor,” he said quietly. “You’ll work your magic. You’ll be home before Lumi notices you’re low on pineapple juice.”
He held her gaze for a moment.
“Just don’t get distracted by Suki,” he said.
She looked at him. “I never get distracted.”
She stood, picked up her bag and left.
Distracted by Suki was exactly what happened.
Somewhere over the Atlantic, between Suki’s breakdown of every person at the Valentino show and her extremely detailed opinions about Hollywood, Vivienne decided she would review the folder when they landed.
She did not review the folder when they landed.
Vivienne walked through the agency lobby with Jade on one side. She decided she’ll take a look at the folder in the elevator, yea, she could do that.
The elevator opened. Fourteenth floor. The folder stayed in her bag.
“Just another entitled actor.” She muttered. “Wing it, you’re a professional.”
She walked into the conference room.
And there he was.
Seven years older. Broader. The jaw sharper, the eyes the same.
Rafferty Cole.
The memories hit before she could stop them. Not in order. Just — his laugh. His hands. A script on the floor.
She had four seconds to gather herself and she needed all of them.
He looked up from the table.
He smiled like he’d been waiting to meet her, she froze.
He knows.
“So.” His voice was exactly the same. “You’re the fixer.”
He didn't recognize her. He had absolutely no idea.
The memories dissolved.
Replaced by memories of missed dinners, agency posts and a bathroom encounter with Bex Ashford.
Vivienne looked at him.
“And you’re the problem,” she said.
- Writer
