I couldn't move, and apparently, neither could Giselle.

We'd wanted Dean gone but hadn't thought of what that meant after. How it'd affect Giselle and her job at LeRouge.

"Fuck," I said again, ignoring the board members and Monsieur Girard as they passed me, leaving the auditorium.

Giselle fell into a seat beside me and dragged her hands down her face. "I don't usually say it, but yes, fuck."

Coop stayed behind and posed in front of us, their eyes going from me, to Giselle, and back to me. "It seems we all need to talk."

"My job..." Giselle sat up straight, peering up at Coop, her lower lip trembling. "I applied for other positions outside of here, but I haven't heard back yet, I...I can't...I can't lose this..."

Coop kneeled before her, gently touching her knee. "You haven't lost anything. I will look into this; in fact, I'll go talk to Monsieur Girard and see what we can do. Go home, for now. I'll call you with more information."

Giselle looked at me, nodded, and seemed ready to fall into my arms. Instead, she got up, wobbly and holding in her sobs, and trudged up the stairs to the elevator.

That left Coop and I in awkward silence. I didn't know what to say—to congratulate them while trying to hide the bitterness in my voice? To thank them for putting in so much effort to win over Dean?

Or to be mad at them for hiding the fact that they'd been in league with the board and Monsieur Girard all this time?

"Why did they even offer me a shot at the position?" I shook my head, struggling to fight my tears. All the stress, the anxiety, the pressure I'd put on myself—and I was never meant to win.

Coop sat beside me. Though I wasn't looking at them, I sensed their tension, sensed their features drooping in disappointment. "For appearances, I think. One man, one woman, and...me." They chuckled. "It's twisted, I know. Trust me, I wasn't one hundred percent on board with this."

I pivoted to them, unable to stop myself from glaring. "Yet you are on board. You accepted the position. You claimed to want to help me, but now I'm wondering if you ever did."

Their eyes narrowed as they set their hands on the armrests, turning away from me. "You don't know the first thing about what I want and what I tried to do."

As much as those words slapped me in the face, they were true. I didn't know the first thing about that. I didn't know the first thing about Coop, period.

Sammy Cooper, former executive secretary from England, was a total mystery to me. And I wasn't sure I wanted to find out more.

"Everything is still too fresh for you," they said, heaving up and out of their seat. "I'll call you tomorrow, too. Keep you apprised of what's going on with Giselle. It's only fair that I do that much."

I gritted my teeth, keeping in all the things I wanted to say.

Where does this leave Giselle and me?

Will you let us be together?

Will you let her transfer departments?

Can she leave if she finds a better job?

Coop hadn't confirmed or denied any of this, and I wanted answers.

But they walked off and out of the auditorium so fast, I had no choice but to wait until tomorrow.

They were right—the wound was still too fresh. I needed a moment to breathe, to process. To try to accept defeat and figure out how I'd move forward from this.

I texted Pierre and begged him to meet me for drinks.

***

I shouldn't have had as many glasses of wine as I did, but they were necessary. One turned into two, which turned into five, accompanied by pity shots bought by Pierre.

On the way home I couldn't walk straight, and had a hard time getting up my stairs, but it was worth it. I wouldn't have slept otherwise, I knew that.

When Coop summoned me to their office the next day, I struggled not to stumble down the hall. To not fumble with the doorknob. And to not collapse at the sight of Giselle seated in one of the chairs in front of Coop's desk.

I'd forgotten she was the main reason for this meeting—to find out what Coop would do for her, if she still had a job here, or if she'd receive a severance package for her troubles.

I doubted that.

"Sorry," I said, closing the door behind me, my thoughts a bit blurry. I was running a few minutes late; unusual for me.

This hangover had hit me harder than I'd anticipated, and I'd been slow most of the morning, coffee not helping me much. No nausea, but a lot of brain fog.

It was weird to meet in this office—Coop's old one, filled with cardboard boxes, piles of books on the ground, placards and diplomas leaning against the walls. They were in the process of moving to Dean's office, from what I understood, until Monsieur Girard was ready to leave the building officially.

I'd heard rather than seen Dean being escorted out. My door was open, and since our offices weren't far, I listened in on his loud excuses and complaints—reaching my office on purpose. He wanted me to hear him, to remember his threats, to be afraid.

Well, I refused. I hadn't won, but neither had he. He'd straight-up lost. I still had a job, even if it wasn't the one I'd wanted.

"No worries, Lucy. Sit." Coop gestured at the chair beside Giselle's. I would have opted to sit far away from her, but messed up as I was, the last thing on my mind was getting frisky with her.

On top of my hangover were the nerves—the jitteriness inside me, the panic at what would happen next.

I didn't want to lose Giselle, but in this situation, it was clear our relationship—or the start of it—would be strained. Postponed. Maybe even severed.

I sat, clasping my hands in my lap.

"Thank you both for coming on such short notice," Coop said, picking up a frame near their computer, tossing it into a small box on the desk. It clattered against the other items inside, making me wince. "I realize it can't be easy, being in the dark like this."

I tried not to roll my eyes. "So, what's the deal?" This was about Giselle, yet I couldn't stop myself from advocating for her, speaking up for her in case she was too distressed.

She looked anything but distressed. She sat tall, one lithe leg crossed over the other, sporting the same coral-colored pantsuit I remembered her wearing from our earlier days of French lessons.

Shit—if she left LeRouge, would those lessons continue? Would someone else take over? Did they even matter now that I'd lost out on the title?

Coop cleared their throat and pulled out a paper from a file, holding it away from Giselle and me. "I understand the stress Dean has put you through, so I'll ensure your new boss doesn't resemble him in any way." Their gaze rested on Giselle, who returned that gaze without blinking. "You'll work in a different department, as requested. Still as a secretary. For your troubles, you'll get a boost to your current pay."

Her shoulders relaxed, as they should have; it was a good deal. She got to keep her job and get a raise.

And yet...something came off wrong, to me. Coop still held the paper away from us, clutching it so tight the tips of their fingers were turning white. Their eyes were flighty, not focusing fully on Giselle or me. Their stance was shifty, as if they weren't able to get comfortable in their chair.

Even in my hungover state, I sensed something amiss.

I folded my arms, leaning back in my seat. "What's the catch? What does this mean?"

Coop ignored me, stacking the paper against the desk a few times, alternating between wincing and smiling.

"Coop?" Giselle's voice was strained—she'd picked up on their behavior, too. "What is it?"

Another wince from Coop and I'd hop over the table and grab them by their neon green shirt collar. "Coop," I said, low in my throat.

"Please," they took a deep breath, "don't panic. All this is good, Giselle, I swear. You've retained your spot in the company, with additional benefits. You're not going anywhere." They shot me a glance. "Neither of you are."

I angled forward, hands pressed on the desk. "So why are you freaking out right now?"

"I'm not freaking out," they said so quickly, the words were glued into one word.

"Who's she working for?" I cocked my head, envisioning Giselle having to work for a board member, which she'd hate. Or being moved down to the store floor, serving as a secretary to a manager, or having to deal with clients in person.

"Like I said," Coop inhaled, "you'll remain a secretary for now, Giselle."

"For now," I said, talking over Giselle, who'd begun to whisper to herself. I cringed at my disrespect and readjusted my position, touching her arm. "Sorry, I'm just...something's strange."

"I know," she replied, her leg jittery.

"Who is she working for?" I repeated, fixing the sternest gaze I could muster on Coop.

I owed them so much and didn't want to be so brusque with them, but their evasiveness woke my temper. My temples flared with pain.

And there was that wince again, and it turned into a grimace of pure agony that I didn't think someone regularly positive like Coop could show. Yet...they did. Eyes slitted, lips sucked in, nose wrinkled—they lowered the paper at last and sighed.

"For me. Giselle will be my secretary."

Giselle gasped, then clapped a hand over her mouth.

I watched, awestruck, as Coop pointed at the paper—the writing on the top of it was crystal clear.

OFFER: to Giselle Opeyemi - Executive Secretary to the President of LeRouge - Paris.

Beneath that was a spot for her to sign, to confirm her new job title.

It was an upgrade, for sure. From serving the director of sales to basically the boss of the entire company.

It still left us in the same spot where we'd started—in an illegal affair, and under new leadership that was aware of that illegal affair.

Something pinched at my spine, tingled in my belly. "How...why would you do this? I thought we...I thought you...we had agreements, Coop."

Coop put the paper down and steepled their hands above it. "We did, but I couldn't promise anything, remember?"

"You promised to try," I spat, hefting up to my feet. Flames soared up my throat. "And you didn't, did you?"

"I did try, Lucy. But I had other agreements with other parties I can't disclose. Those parties," they gulped, peering between me and Giselle, "gave me this job."

"Bribery," Giselle and I said at the same time.

Coop's eyebrows swept upwards. "No, not bribery. You don't understand." They stood up and turned away, their back facing us. "I'm not doing this to hurt you, either of you. I'm doing it because I have no choice."

"You're the new president of LeRouge," said Giselle, her fists clenched, her spine stiff as a board. "You have all the choices."

Coop jolted around, red splotching over their normally perfection complexion. "You think I wanted this position?" Heavy breaths left their rose-tinted mouth. "My hands are tied. Truly. This wasn't my decision, and I need you to realize that because I can't say it again."

They weren't lying; I didn't know how I knew, but I did. The sincerity, the pain cutting through their flawless features was real. Raw.

But it didn't stop my rage. "So after all this. All the fighting, the information gathering, sneaking around, compiling evidence—I still lost the position I moved across the world for? And I still can't be with the woman I'm falling in love with, because your hands are tied?"

I felt Giselle staring at me, but I couldn't stare back; not now. If our gazes met, I'd lose all my resolve and melt into her.

Yes, I'm falling in love with her, and just admitted it to my new boss.

The way Coop deflated before my eyes was torture. Like a puppet exhausted by their strings being pulled in all directions. Coop never had any free-will, any authority to do anything we'd planned, and I saw that now too clearly.

My rage dwindled into a tiny fire in my gut. How could I put all the blame on them? They were, in truth, the best for this position; I'd simply hoped they'd be able to do more.

But it seemed even the president of this prestigious company had no say in rules or pointless policies that overruled interoffice relationships.

"I'm sorry, Lucy. You know I mean that." Coop's dark eyes glistened, and I chewed the insides of my cheeks to not react, to not show sympathy. "I'll turn a blind eye as much as I can, regarding your...affair. But I can't make it legal. I can't change anything. It's this, or you're welcome to quit, though..." They grimaced. "I wouldn't advise that."

I opened my mouth to push more, but Giselle grabbed my wrist and tugged me away. She wouldn't fight this; she couldn't. Meaning I had to let it be, too.

"Thank you, Coop. For saving my job, at least," she said, before hauling me out of the office.

Outside the door, we were silent, at first. Both pressed against the wall, catching our breaths, processing the news.

We had our jobs, but not each other. Not officially. Not the way we'd wanted to be. We still had to hide, still had to act.

Was it enough? Could it be enough?

I felt her touch—her hand slid over mine, grabbing, squeezing. Soft, but firm all at once.

Then her whisper, so tiny I thought I'd imagined it. "By the way, I'm falling in love with you, too."

My hand grew cold as she let it go and disappeared down the hallway.

┴