A few months after Doris arrived in Paris, striving to sort out her life as she settled into the new environment, she'd received an anonymous email filled with malicious affronts and abuses.
She waved it off and took it less seriously. Those kinds of messages didn't look weird to her. As a celebrity, she was used to getting anonymous messages daily. Most times, some of her enthusiastic fans would create edits of her pictures or videos with themselves in them and send them to her email, declaring how much they loved her. Same way her anti-fans send her all sorts of hateful messages and grotesque edits. But that particular email was extreme and one she shouldn't have taken lightly but Doris, in her carefree manner, brushed it aside as a bitter hater doing what they did best—spread hate. She was unaffected by the situation until she started receiving death threats and photos of herself in various locations, which indicated that whoever was sending her the emails was stalking her. Suddenly, the mysterious situation turned from a mild inconvenience into a terrifying, life-threatening situation. She became concerned for her safety and immediately got the authorities involved. However, they proved to be of no help to her situation and the threats and photographs continued to arrive. When she asked the anonymous user once what they wanted from her, they responded with one word: LEAVE! She was confused with what that meant or what she should do about it so she ignored it yet again and continued living her life. But that was a bad idea! One rainy night, she was riding home when she received that last dreadful message that stated, "You've ignored my warnings so today shall be your last." She felt the coldness of terror clawing at her guts as she accelerated to get to the safety of her apartment as quickly as possible but she did not make it there. She awoke in a hospital a week later, where the doctors explained to her what had happened. Apparently, she had been in a car accident, caused by a truck colliding with her vehicle, but she was most certain that wasn't the case. Someone was after her life! She knew it but couldn't do anything about it because she didn't even know who it was. With the help of the police, she tried to find the perpetrator, but they'd always gotten to dead ends. Whoever was behind this must be really good at covering his tracks. Scared for her life and that of her loved ones, she'd decided to lay low until she discovered who was threatening her life and why. Especially now she had something very precious to protect. Something that meant so dearly to her that she couldn't afford to put in harm's way. ~ ~ Geneviève hurried towards her instantly, her ruby red lips stretching in a smile. "Ma'am! You didn't have to come all the way here from Nigeria," she said in her thick French accent. "I and the rest of the team are getting the situation under control." Doris had found this stunning young lady on I*, a couple of weeks ago and had decided her agency needed a fresh face like hers. Her beauty was striking, but it was her raw talent that truly captivated Doris. Hence, she'd flown all the way to West Africa herself determined to get her girl. Although it would have been more convenient to let the casting team handle it, Doris knew that when it came to scouting underaged potential models, she preferred to do it in person. And there had she heard all the buzz revolving around her agency. Doris raised a well-carved eyebrow. "Oh? Then why is the dougebag still not behind bars." "Well. . ." "Tell me! What. Exactly. Happened?" Doris cut in, drumming her pointy, manicured fingernails on the table with each word she spoke. She was losing her forbearance. One of the staff members spoke up, recounting the disturbing incident that had occurred a few days prior. Apparently, a few of the models from the agency had been chosen to model the apparel for a brand's upcoming showcase. But after the showcase, one of the models, Elena, had been cornered by a VIP attendee who had subjected her to unwanted, inappropriate advances even when she protested continuously. The staff member's voice shook as she explained the incident, and Doris could feel her anger rising. "Fortunately," Geneviève said after the staff was done speaking. "There was not much harm done. Though she'd sustained a few bruises from struggling to get away from him." Another of the staff members continued, revealing that after the incident, Elena had run into Julianne, another model from the agency, and told her what had happened. Julianne, on the other hand, had immediately taken action. She went to the dress changing room, where Elena had been cornered, and recorded a video of the man leaving the room, calling him names while he tried to avoid the situation. She uploaded the video on social media, along with pictures of the bruises on Elena's arm. With these damning pieces of evidence, she publicly vilified him for misconduct, calling for consequences. Atta Girl! Doris thought with satisfaction. Julianne was like a sleeping volcano, always simmering with fiery passion just below the surface. Her anger burned hot, and she was quick to act when she felt that someone had been wronged. She would not stand for injustice, and she was not afraid to voice her opinions loudly and publicly. But. . . "How did something like this happen, anyway?" Doris seethed. "Where was the security team?" Geneviève, her voice unsteady, interjected. "Our top models were at a bigger showcase in New York. Most of the securities were assigned to them. We were stretched thin, and we didn't have enough security at the local showcase." Geneviève's explanation made sense, but Doris was still not satisfied. She'd been in this industry for long and had experienced the good and bad side of it. She knew with the slightest negligence a model could get molested at any time. "That is no justification," Doris said firmly, her voice low and steady. "If we are running short on security, then we need to hire more. I have made it clear that the protection of our models is our top priority. This should never happen again." Doris' words were unequivocal. She would never tolerate any excuses or negligence when it came to the safety of the models. She expected nothing less than the highest level of care and security. "Yes, Ma'am," Geneviève uttered in a low mumble. Doris took in a deep breath, retrieving her lost composure. She smiled at the other woman. "I'm sorry. . ." "It's okay," Geneviève nodded, returning her smile. Then just as immediately, Doris' brows creased up in fury. "Who's the scumbag, anyway?" "Antoine Baudelaire," Geneviève replied, handing Doris a file with his profile. "He's the youngest child and only son of Laurent Baudelaire, the Chairman of Baudelaire Hotels. He's known for his wild parties and reckless behavior, but no one expected this." Her voice was full of anger and disgust. It was clear that she, just as Doris, was not going to let this matter drop. "Initially, we received threats from Laurent Baudelaire's lawyers, who claimed we're defaming his son," Geneviève said, her voice quivering with emotion. "However, when they realized that our legal team was not to be trifled with, they retreated." She scoffed. "We are not going to let this slide. We're suing him for sexual harassment, even though, we may not have concrete evidence, considering they'd beaten us to getting our hands on that CCTV footage." Doris frowned. "What do you mean by they beat us to it?" "When we went to the hotel to get the footage from the day of the incident, we found out it was erased," the PR team leader asserted a note of frustration in his voice. "They must have known that we would come for it. I think The Baudelaires had made prior contact with them. They are trying to cover their tracks." Doris released a scoffing laugh laced with thick resentment. "Oh? That's how they wanna play?!" After a moment's pause, she spoke up, her voice strong and resolute. "PR team, draft a statement to release to the press. It should clearly outline the allegations against Antoine Baudelaire, and it will state our intention to seek justice for our model. We will not let this incident go unchallenged. We need to tell the world that we will not tolerate this kind of behavior from anyone, no matter who they are. We would show them we're serious about protecting our models and would not stand for any kind of abuse or harassment. Get it done right now." The team leader grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, Ma'am." "Oh, and one more thing, make sure that video never leaves the internet." "Ah. . . how they've tried to take it down," he said cheekily. "But no matter how many times they try, we keep making it go viral." "Good!" The sides of Doris' lips lifted in a wicked smile. "Make sure Antonie Baudelaire never stops topping the trending keyword chart. We're not going to let him get away with this. Let the public know what a disgusting person he is. Oh, while you're at it, dig up as much dirt as possible you can find on Baudelaire Hotels." "Already on it, Ma'am!" Doris scoffed. "They think they can cripple us by erasing the CCTV footage, they have no idea how petty I can get," she muttered under her breath. Then she turned to Geneviève. "It's time we played dirty too, and gave them a taste of their own medicine. We are going to keep using the power of the internet to our advantage. Let's see how they'll deal with the public backlash to their corporation.""LET ME get this straight," Brad said through clenched teeth, struggling to keep his anger in check. "You made me come all the way from LA on short notice to defend your son for sexual harassment?" The last two words escaped his mouth like explosives. Are these people kidding me right now? He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be spending time with his daughter today as he'd promised. His little princess was the only person he lived his life for, ever since his ex-wife walked out from their lives. His ex-wife! The thought of that woman fueled his temper. In his eyes, she had been the perfect woman for him. Clever, stunningly pretty, and, best of all, a total Sci-Fi fanatic like himself. They used to talk for hours about the things they both loved, laughing over tall tales from all of the exotic places that they had visited. They had been inseparable. It was hard for him to believe that their beautiful relationship had ended so badly. . . and
DORIS KNEW she was being petty but what could she say? She was wired that way. It was already an hour past the initial time they had agreed on and she was well aware Antoine Baudelaire and his lawyer were already in the meeting room but she deliberately wanted to make them wait. Two days ago, The Baudelaire's lawyer had contacted them, requesting to settle out of court. It was a long, strenuous debate between her, Elena, and the legal team. She was so adamant and wanted nothing more than to see that Baudelaire delinquent sniffing metal rods behind the slammer but Elena didn't want to press charges since they agreed to settle. She knew that taking legal action would be expensive and time-consuming, and she didn't want to waste any more money and time, but Doris was reluctant to let the matter slide. "We have a strong case and I'm confident in our chances," Doris said, her voice inundated with conviction. "Honestly speaking. . . we don't have a strong ca
NO WORDS could begin to depict what Doris was feeling at the moment, seated at one of the tables at Le Bistro Chabots, awaiting anxiously for Brad to walk in. Le Bistro Chabot was a sight to behold, with its high ceilings, ornate chandeliers, and plush velvet upholstery. The dark wood floors and paneling gave the restaurant a timeless elegance, while the large windows overlooking the Parisian streets added a touch of modernity. The tables were adorned with crisp white linens and sparkling crystal, and the waiters bustled about in neat uniforms. The atmosphere was one of sophistication and refinement, with the gentle buzz of conversation and the soft clink of silverware on china adding to the ambiance. But the true beauty of Le Bistro Chabot was in the details. The art on the walls was carefully curated, and the flowers on each table were perfectly arranged. The crystal glasses sparkled in the candlelight, and the wine list was filled with the finest vintages. But perhaps the m
"I THINK it's about time we consider expanding D&M Agency," Geneviève opined with certainty the moment the executive committee meeting started. Doris wasn't in the best state of mind, not after that humiliating and infuriating ordeal yesterday. Everything still felt surreal to her. She still couldn't believe she'd been stood up by that... that... Inhale and exhale, Doris! She mentally instructed herself. There was no point calling him derogatory names. Be the bigger person. But no matter how much she breathed, it still couldn't calm the rage and hurt she was feeling that kept bubbling out of proportion whenever she envisioned him having a laugh in his hotel room while she sat at the restaurant for over four hours waiting for him. ASSHOLE! There she said it. Today wasn't it for her. Particularly not to discuss business matters. Work was the last place she wanted to be at today, she'd just wanted to stay in the comfort of her home, wrapped in her thick duvet cov
SQUEALING, THE little boy climbed onto Doris' lap, giggling mischievously. "Hey, Sweetie!" Doris singsonged, planting a kiss on his forehead. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I tried to stop him," Annie apologized ruefully. Then she made a face at the kid. "But he's such a naughty boy." "It's okay, Annie," Doris replied chuckling. With a polite nod and one last funny face directed at the boy who, likewise, gave in return a bit of his own display, the petite brunette was out the door. "Hey, Sweetie, what are you doing here?" Doris asked, stroking the little boy's head who was still giggling on her thighs. "Oh my gosh, Mummy! I was like super duper bored, and I begged Nanny Lucy to take me to the playground. And when we got there, I saw all my friends from school, like Johnny and Sarah and Grace and Jacob! We played tag and hide-and-seek and we even got ice cream after. The ice cream shop had chocolate and vanilla and strawberry and even some fancy flavors I've never heard of
"YOU'RE PUTTING that place up for rent?!" Jason asked, a note of surprise in his voice. Even over the video call, Brad could sense the shift in his friend's demeanor, from casual and relaxed to amazed and curious. He sat up a little straighter, his eyes wide and questioning. He seemed to be waiting for an explanation as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. Perhaps it was the suddenness of the announcement or the fact that he hadn't expected him to make such a decision. Either way, it was clear that the news had caught him off-guard. Jason Lyndon was about the only best friend Brad had in the universe that he could trust with his life. They hadn't actually started out as friends. They had begun as mortal enemies. They'd met in the third grade of their elementary school when Brad had just transferred to the school Jason attended. He had been the new kid and didn't know much or cared to. Their animosity had begun when someone broke the overhead proje
THE DINING room was bathed in early morning light, as the sun shone through the large windows. A soft breeze drifted in, carrying with it the sweet scent of flowers. Brad and his daughter, Nora sat at the table, each lost in their own thoughts while Mrs. Hopkins bustled around the kitchen, making sure everyone had what they needed. Brad was so engrossed in reading the morning paper that he barely noticed what was happening around him. As he reached for his coffee to take a sip, his eyes drifted for a second, and caught a glimpse of his daughter with eyes fixed on her breakfast. She absentmindedly poked at her cereal, taking a few half-hearted bites, but leaving most of it untouched. She sat hunched over, her shoulders rounded, a far cry from her usual bubbly self. Something was clearly bothering her, and Brad's parental instincts kicked in. He set his paper down and turned to his daughter, concern etched on his face. "Hey, sweetie," he said, his voice gentle. "Is every
IT TOOK all Doris' life force not to laugh her lungs out. The look on Brad's face was epic. It was one to be captured, printed, enlarged, and hung in a museum as the emblem of shock. It was a look of pure, unadulterated astonishment, the kind that could make even the most jaded person do a double-take. Doris took a quick look around the living room. Things didn't seem to have changed that much around here, she thought, nodding in acknowledgment. The living room was a study in contrasts, its sophisticated decor interspersed with the adorable and the whimsical. On one wall, a gorgeous oil painting hung in an ornate gilded frame, its colors rich and vibrant. On the opposite wall, a row of childlike drawings hung from tiny clothespins, their crayon strokes haphazard and uneven. In the corner, a plush toy monkey peered out from a giant potted plant, its tail curling around the leaves like a vine. The couch was upholstered in a deep, rich velvet, its cushions plump and inviting.