Be fine, Louis

Louis Trottier’ POV,

Five years later…Après cinq ans, 

All eyes were on me as I delivered the final words of my presentation. Behind me, the new perfume, L’Âme Nuel, gleamed under the lights inside the box put up for display. There was a round of applause after the presentation which was expected. Delivering speeches that would make people buy our products was sort of my thing. I was the best. It wasn't a thing of pride but I can't help but take all the credit.

I was about to leave when my father stopped me,

“Louis, A moment.”

He stood by the window, perfectly poised in his tailored grey suit. His sharp gaze locked on me.

“Yes, Father?”

“Have you seen your brother?”

The question was unexpected and had kept me frozen to one spot. Éric Cerf was my step brother, his golden son from his second marriage after my mother died . He was the one who’s always been paraded before the cameras, the investors and the world not until the moment I decided to turn the tables around.

I adjust my cufflink, avoiding his eyes.

“No. And frankly, I don’t care.”

His expression hardened. “You shouldn’t speak that way. We’re a family.”

A bitter smile tugs at my mouth. “Are we? Because last I checked, we were a corporation with a family name.”

For a moment, his face slipped, turning pale. Just a flicker of regret, maybe but it was gone in a second. He stepped closer and handed me an envelope, sealed in black with our gold insignia.

“An invitation,” he said, trying to explain. “For the latest Haute Couture program. The biggest names in fashion will attend. It would be… beneficial for you to be there.”

I took it without enthusiasm. “You know that’s not my line of work. I manage fragrances, not fabric and runway models.”

He folds his hands behind his back, his tone cool and deliberate.

“If you want to succeed in this business, you need to understand all of it. Perfume, couture, cosmetics — they are one and the same. Knowledge is power, Louis .Don’t limit yourself.”

I glanced at the envelope. “And I suppose Éric Cerf will be there?”

He didn't answer, but the silence is confirmation enough.

I slipped the invitation into my jacket pocket.

“Fine,” I said flatly. “If that’s what you want.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but I was already turning away. We might work at the same company, share ideas for business growth but it was evident we had a sour Father- Son relationship, he had always preferred my brother, Eric.

I got to my office, picked a few files and then rushed out immediately. It was already 4:00 pm and I had less than three hours to the event. I could swear my father had invited Eric long before he handed this invitation to me. Sometimes I wondered why he hated me so much.

I got into my Lamborghini still thinking about everything, drove out but as I passed a small flower shop tucked between a café and a jewelry boutique, a bouquet of roses caught my eye. Something about them made me pull over.

Inside, the air smells of fresh petals. A young woman stood behind the counter, her smile immediate and warm almost seductive.

“Bonjour, monsieur. Looking for something special?”

I let my eyes linger on her a moment longer than necessary. “Always.”

She laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her name tag reads , Élise.

“I’ll take a dozen of these,” I said, nodding toward the roses.

While she wrapped them, I added, “And one for yourself.”

She blinked, surprised. “For me?”

I handed her a single rose from the packed flowers she offered me and slipped a small silver card across the counter. “If you ever want to talk about something that smells better than roses… call me.” And then gave her a wink.

Her cheeks flush the color of the petals. “Maybe I will.”

“Do,” I murmured, then took the bouquet and left before she could respond.

I got into my car and drove home, I was sometimes a flirt only when I was bored. French ladies were too beautiful to be ignored.

“ You're home so soon.” Isla, my girlfriend , said as soon as she opened the door.

I kissed her forehead, both cheeks and finally her lips before handing her the roses.

“For me?” she asked, her eyes lighting up as she took them.

“For you,” I replied, brushing a kiss against her cheeks again. “Get ready. We have somewhere to be.”

Her smile faltered slightly. “Business?”

I nod. “Couture program. My father insisted.”

She sighed, already turning toward the stairs. “Give me an hour.”

I watched her disappear into one of the rooms, while I went into my study to stamp some of the documents. I was about to start when Isla entered.

“How about what we discussed the last time, Louis?” She asked, her face serious.

“ What about it?” I asked, feigning ignorance, my eyes still fixed to the documents before me.

“ I can't continue this drama, sometimes I feel like you still love Anne-Marie. Remember this was not the plan.” She explained, her voice laced with worry.

“ I understand your plight, Isla.”

“No you don't Louis, You don't understand anything. I feel like you changed after that night. Did the death of her child soften you?” she queried.

“You know she wasn't carrying my child so why should I feel hurt?” I asked, this time looking at her directly.

“Prove that by planning our wedding, Louis..”

She said and walked away without getting to hear a response.

I heaved a sigh as I continued what I was doing, talking about it was no use. Isla preferred actions to words. In the next two hours we were both ready.

The venue was magnificent , chandeliers dripping crystal light, Cameras flash, Executives swarm. I shook hands, offered practiced smiles, and said all the right words.

I was still saying hello to all the top business men who approached me until I heard a media personality say the name I dreaded so much. 

“Now let's welcome Éric Cerf with his pl

us one Anbe Maria Duval.”

As if answering my question, Éric introduced Anne as his wife.