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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬, 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞
"Ms. Franc, Pierre Cardin wants an answer about the collaboration idea. What do you say?"
"Tell him I say yes, Meredith, thank you."
"Sure thing. Saint Laurent would like to schedule a meeting with you about some of the archive designs. What should I tell him?"
"Let him know I'll be available all next week, please."
"Got it. And one more thing before I go. Gianni needs a color for a suit he's designing, says it's your husband's. Red or black?"
"Oh, that's easy. Go with both"
"Absolutely," Meredith, the assistant agrees. "I'll catch you later."
"Of course." Alouette sighs. She pushes a few strands of hair out of her eyes and stands from her office chair, getting ready to go. It couldn't have been busier today. There were a plethora of people who were calling in, design requests were piling up, and journalists were at the forefront, trying to create a story out of any sudden move she made. She thought the Parisian media would be harmless. They were only less aggressive.
Alouette had everything going for herself. She'd finally become the established designer she worked so hard to be. She was working with A-list celebrities like Sharon Stone, Will Smith, and Lisa Bonet, designing a lot of their clothes. Making brand deals, all kinds of famous designers wanted to be in touch with her, and of course, she was a newlywed. Married to the very famous Michael Jackson, the two of them were America's sweethearts. Often times they were separated in different parts of the world because of work, but when they were together, they were inseparable.
This time it was Paris keeping them apart. The world of designing was so demanding, that Alouette rarely ever got a break. She was ready to find herself back in the California king size she shared with her other half.
Unexpectedly, the phone starts ringing off of its hook. Office hours were almost over, so she thought it might be Michael or one of her friends calling in so late. She answers it, "Hello?"
"Hi, Alouette," her mother says, on the other line.
"Hi, mom. What's the occasion?"
Michelle scoffs, "Oh please, I do not need an occasion to call my daughter...I just wanted to call and congratulate you."
"Awww, thank you, mama." she coos, a little confused. "Congratulate me for what exactly?"
"Well, I just had a conversation with Katherine over the phone. She told me you got invited to the White House along with Michael."
'The White House?' She ponders. 'Michael never said anything about the White House.'
"This is news to me, mom. Michael and I haven't discussed it." Alouette replies.
