Page 39 of Je T'aime, Actually

“Thank you all for coming. I’ll get straight to it.”

A quiet shuffle of chairs followed, the room instinctively bracing itself for something none of them wanted to hear.

“As you know,La Fée du Livrehad entered into acquisition talks with Shutler Fitch. I flew to England last week and met with them to thrash out the best possible deal—for me, the company, and each of you. I’ve spent these past few days thinking things over and I’ve agreed to accept the offer.”

A low ripple moved through the group. Chloé held firm.

“The plan, as it stands, includes a twenty-five percent reduction in staff.” She paused, letting it land. “That number is final. The rest of the team will remain employed, at least for now. No one is being asked to leave today.”

Heads turned back and forth, some whispering, others staring at the table in front of them. Chloé pressed on.

“Shutler Fitch will be moving the majority ofLa Fée du Livre’sassets to a new regional office here in Nantes. It will operate under the Shutler Fitch name and branding. There will be changes in reporting structures, workflows, and systems. This is a merger in name, but a takeover in practice.”

She looked around the room, making sure to meet as many gazes as she could.

“I know this is difficult. I know it feels like the ground is shifting beneath us. And maybe it is. But I’m here right now, being honest with you, because that’s what I would want if I were sitting where you are.”

Silence.

Then, one voice: Cecille, from editorial asked, “Will you be moving with us as well?”

Chloé hesitated, just for a second. “No. I won’t be relocating. I’ve been offered a different role within Shutler Fitch. One that’s not tied to a specific location.”

“Will you take it?” someone else asked.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Chloé said. “And that’s the truth.”

She let the quiet settle again. There was no tidy ending to this; no slide full of inspiring bullet points.

“Today, I don’t expect you to be okay with this. I only ask that you take time to absorb it. HR will be reaching out with one-on-one meetings this week. I’ll be available after this for questions.”

With that, she closed her notebook. The mood was heavy but honest. As she walked out of the room, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Monroe: Booked my ticket. Friday, 6 p.m. Don’t be late.

Chloé allowed herself the smallest smile. Not everything was falling apart.

Some things, quietly, were falling into place.

thirty-two

The arrivals board blinked overhead, a soft buzz of movement stirring in the terminal around her. Chloé stood just outside the doors, a small bouquet of white freesia and lavender cradled in her arm. She checked the time again, then looked up as the glass doors slid open.

And there she was.

Monroe emerged from the stream of travellers, dragging a carry-on behind her, her coat slung over one arm, eyes scanning the crowd. For a moment, Chloé just watched her. That purposeful stride. The slightly dishevelled hair. The way her face changed, lighting up, slowly but undeniably, the moment she spotted Chloé.

“Hi,” Monroe said as she reached her, a touch of fatigue on her features.

“Bonsoir,” Chloé replied, handing her the flowers and taking her luggage. “For you.”

Monroe blinked at them, surprised. “Oh! You are charming, you know that?”

“I try.”

She took the flowers and leant in, kissing Chloé on the cheek, and then just rested there a moment longer than necessary. “I’m glad to see you.”

Chloé pulled back and touched Monroe’s wrist gently. “Me too. Come on, I parked close.”