I’d never experienced the feeling of otherness more than I had in my brief time working for Noah. While I understood the basis of their intense shock upon discovering my position, I still resented their classlessness. They didn’t have to treat me like an anomaly because of Noah’s modern choice to hire a woman.
Instead of taking my hand, she continued staring at me dumbly.
“Is there an issue, Joanne?” Noah’s tone went from emotionless to icy cold.
“Not at all, Mr. Keegan,” she swore nervously, shaking my hand to appease Noah’s displeasure. “Have a seat. Léon will come to escort you back there shortly.”
“Excellent.” He gestured for me to follow him to the seating area. “Léon is the Amage brothers’ cousin and personal assistant.”
“Got it.”
Less than five minutes later, Léon, a young blond man, led us down a hallway with beautiful wooden floors. The Art Déco emerald patterned wallpaper held various paintings. As in the first-floor lobby, the Amage brothers embraced the building’s historic design. At a wood-framed, frosted glass door, the man tapped on it.
“Entrez!” an authoritative voice called from the other side, prompting the blond to usher us into the room, revealing six men at a large conference table in the middle of the room, all of whom paid no attention to me and focused on Noah.
I was in the presence of the famed Amage brothers.
As Léon closed the door, I followed Noah to the table. He found our assigned chairs and he held out my seat, waiting until I sat before taking his own. I sat my briefcase on the floor next to my chair. No matter the dismissive curtness he’d shown toward me in the past days, being close to him right now served as a great comfort.
“Noah, on time as always,” a good-looking, older man said, offering him a smile. He sat at the head of the table, and after reading his name tag, I realized this was the CEO of the company, Mr. Boyd Andrews. Knowing my presentation would be in front of the CEO of such a high-profile company made my palms grow sweaty. He lookedexpensive, with his impeccably groomed hair and flawless black suit. “Nice to see you.”
“Hello, Boyd,” Noah responded.
One brother was absent.
“Allo!”
“Bonjour!”
“Bienvenue!”
“Salut!”
I tried to place the faces to each Amage brother greeting us, but couldn’t identify Denis, Guy, Sacha, Hugo, or Leo. My research had focused on Claude as the majority owner.
Assholes were always easy to spot. Claude Amage was no different. He had graying black hair and rugged good looks. Yet, he stood out from the other men in the room because of his fearsome scowl at Noah.
“Gentlemen.” Noah nodded to everyone except asshole. “When have we begun conducting our meetings in French?”
Ignoring the cold query, Claude turned his attention to me, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Comment vous appelez-vous?”
Noah stiffened, his livid expression threatening to derail the presentation before it began. I tried to capture his gaze, but all eyes turned to me.
I rummaged my brain to translate Claude’s question.
“This is—”
I interrupted Noah. “Enchanté!”Not.In no way was it nice to meet this man. “Je m’appelleRyan Hagen.Comment allez-vous?”
“Parles-tu français?” Noah asked in surprise.
“Un peu,” I said, demonstrating how little by using my thumb and forefinger to measure. “C’est une langue difficile.”
Fuck, was it ever difficult! I’d taken French honors in high school because of my New Orleans roots, but I’d lost most of my knowledge since I’d had no one to converse with. I had to use the correct pronunciations based on gender and formality. There were so many rules to follow!
“Comment ça va?” one brother asked.
“Bien, merci,” I said. “Et toi?”