Page 150 of Boss of the Year

At first glance, my best friend resembled a pirate, with his sooty black hair and dark eyes paired with a dangling silver earring that took his otherwise chic daytime appearance to something a bit more dangerous. Intimidating until he smiled and transformed into one of the kindest people I’d ever met.

“You say pirate,” he had teased on the day we met. “I say Prince.”

To his credit, he later dressed up in a pitch-perfect Prince costume for aPurple Raintribute show.

Now he looked up from where he had just set down his oboe case, and his face split into a grin that ruined the piratical effect.

“Et voilà, la cheffe est de retour!” he cried when he saw the mess I was cleaning up. “You are cooking. This is good. No more tears,n’est-ce pas?”

“Only from chopping onions,” I confirmed. “Tarte a l’oignonfor dinner. To say thank you for putting me up and cheering me up. I talked to my brother-in-law. He had some ideas for getting started. As soon as I find a job to help me get a work visa, I can start looking for a place to live.”

Louis poked around the produce I had set out to make a salad. “Bien sûr. Of course, you can stay with me for as long as you want to cook. But it is a little small.” He waved around the garret, which was, admittedly, approximately the size of a shoebox.

“We’ll make do. You’re the best.”

“You can also thank me by coming to my show tonight and applauding very loud so that everyone else follows, okay?” Louis suggested with an impish grin. “It’s a new club, and I need the moral support. So, you get out of the apartment and no more crying over the stupid rich man,d’accord?”

My eyes bugged out. I’d never gone with Louis to one of his drag performances in Pigalle, only watched him rehearse from the safety of this apartment. The idea of a crowded nightclub had always felt like too much, even after a year of living here.

“Louis, I don’t think I’m ready for?—”

My phone buzzed on the counter. A series of messages from Lucas lit up the screen. Most of them I had seen and ignored, but the newest was sent just a moment ago.

I sighed and picked up the phone. It was time to face this reality as well.

Marie, please call me. I can explain.

Where are you? I’m worried.

A leave of absence? Really?

I’m going out of my mind. Just tell me you’re safe.

And so they went. They were probably just damage control, part of whatever plan his family had cooked up to manage this situation, but they still affected me. The concern in his words, the desperation, felt real, even though I knew they weren’t. Couldn’t be.

The last hit me where it hurt.

Please. Don’t make me beg.

I typed out a single response:

I know you were only trying to keep me away from your brother. I need the week. Please don’t contact me until then.

I took a deep breath and then turned to Louis, who was watching me with sympathetic eyes. “You know what? You’re right. Let me be your fan club tonight.”

Louis’s face lit up. “Vraiment? You are ready to have some fun?”

“I’m ready to remember who I am in Paris,” I said firmly. “The me that existed before Lucas Lyons turned my world upside down.”

30

ABSINTHE COCKTAIL

*a few drops of saltwater really opens it up.

Two hours later, I stood in front of Louis’s full-length mirror, barely recognizing the person who stared back at me.

Truthfully, I barely recognized either of us, though for Louis, that was just an average Saturday night. Technically, he wasn’t Louis at all right now, since the moment he put on the green sequined gown, towering heels, and multi-colored wig, he became Celeste.