Page 117 of Savage Suit

“Je suis désolé mon bon ami.” I think he pretended to apologize and offered a phony look of sympathy. “How do you say? Your practices have come home to roost.”

Noah only clenched his jaw.

“The chaos she has created directly results from your methods,” Claude said. His English was heavily accented but understandable. “She is the center of attention everywhere because of your poor leadership and regressive thinking. Watching you crash and burn isla pièce de résistance.” His smile was nasty. “Réjane offered so much of herself to me on behalf of the company. Pity you have ruined what she so freely gave.”

This wasn’t an ordinary dislike between Noah and Claude. Their hatred had deep roots.

I sat as quietly as everyone else, watching the two of them as they launched into a conversation in French, their words too fast for me to decipher. Leo’s intervention silenced Claude. Noah’s expression remained ferocious, but he didn’t speak.

“You can see why our continued partnership is in jeopardy, madame,” Hugo told me. “Noah and Claude do not mix well.”

“We have worked with monsieur for a very long time,” Sacha added. “He has gone to Sauncier, and why we have all but decided they are the best option.”

Guy’s neutral expression remained. “When we met with Noah at his office, we feared his boast of a hostile takeover. In recent days, his standing has changed, as has our stance.”

The decision flushed my job down the drain. Quite appalling, yet incomparable to my alarm over the prospect of never seeing Noah again. Given his attitude toward me over the past days, he didn’t care.

I’m unsure which possibility motivated me the most. And although my confidence hadn’t fully returned since the fallout of the press conference, I had a job to do.

“I appreciate your position.” I glanced from brother to brother and then at Boyd Andrews. “And I understand your reservations.” Frantically, I searched my brain to speak in their language. They understood English, yet Claude would use my limited French against me. “But I can assure you, I will take my obligations to your launch seriously. I came fully prepared to present my ideas to you for your pillar launch and Mr. Keegan’s parfum. I am just as ready to present to you my brief for the fragrance Mr. Keegan wants on the market to honor his mother. I might not change your mind, but we will never know if I am not given the chance.”

When I fell silent, the men looked among themselves. Except Noah. He stared straight ahead, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

“We are not sure what good it will do,” Leo said. “Claude’s words might’ve been less than tactful, but they were true. The circus in the aftermath of your press conference wouldn’t happen at another company. Certainly, not at Sauncier.”

“Your short time at KMG has been bumpy,” Claude said. “That is a direct coincidence of his behavior,” he went on, jabbing a finger at Noah. “You defense of him.”

“You’re perceptive, monsieur,” I told Claude. “My short time with the company has been very rocky.”

Noah stiffened. I ignored him.

“And yes,oui, without a doubt, it is because of the small number of women in top positions within Mr. Keegan’s company. Change is rarely without controversy. But don’t malign him if you won’t allow me a chance to win the contract. You are condoning behavior he is supposedly guilty of, just as you have these many years by not protesting the predominantly male workplace.”

“You’re quite right,” Boyd Andrews said, capturing my attention.

“Of course she is,” Claude agreed with an indulgent smile. “You have always been in favor of Noah, Boyd.”

“A fact I’ve never made secret, Claude.” Boyd’s tone skirted the edges of courtesy.

He launched into French with the others. Judging by Noah’s look, he understood the conversation, while I caught a word here and a phrase there.

Boyd looked at me. “The floor is yours, Ryan.”

“Thank you,” I said, lifting my briefcase and opening it. Once I got my laptop out, I stood. Glancing around, I saw nowhere to hook up auxiliary connections. I had handouts, but I needed to make the presentation first.

Boyd rolled his chair back and moved his hand off the conference table. A moment later, a screen descended from the ceiling. I unbuttoned my jacket and shrugged out of it, draping it over my vacated seat.

Reid had convinced me to go for another designer look, given the prestige of the Amage account. Besides, over the weekend, Quinn had called me about an online report the brothers wanted to branch into fashion. The fuchsia-colored illusion dress I’d chosen was more expensive than last week’s outfit. The price tags astonished me and yet made me doubly appreciative of my job.

At the screen, I glanced around, unsure where to sit the laptop, since there was no stand.

A big, warm hand suddenly settled at the small of my back. Even before I glanced over my shoulder and met Noah’s blue eyes, I knew it was him. When he was close to me, my body flared to life and my senses were fully engaged.

“A utility cart has been sent for,” he told me.

“They hadn’t intended to hear us out,” I said wryly.

“No,” he agreed, inscrutable.