cannibal; kendall roy

57

Marguerite and Kendall had been on the rocks ever since his birthday. They had moments where they genuinely loved one another and could sit down, have a regular conversation and all. But most of the time they were arguing.

Whether it be over what to name their son.

What to do with their son.

Or, more pressing matters concerning their own lives. Like how Kendall felt like it was time for Marguerite to phase out of Garnier, and how Marguerite didn't want to do it. Or how Marguerite wanted to go home to France, and have her son be born there, but Kendall didn't want that, and was afraid his wife might try and stay there.

Additionally, neither of them trusted the other.

Kendall didn't believe that she wasn't drinking, and Marguerite, well Marguerite didn't have any reason to not trust him. She just didn't.

But now, she had settled into her old apartment, under the guise that she needed to go collect some papers, in reality, she had been moving her father's books into his old home, and was having her call with Anna Wintour there.

That, she also hadn't told Kendall about.

She wasn't sure what the call was about, but was sure that it would be an offer that would give Kendall a stroke, or have him bark a pre-made decision at her.

In the calmness of her father's old office, she made his favorite drink and sighed, taking a sip of the lukewarm drink.

Again, her defense being that her doctor had said nothing was wrong and, her mother making it through with her. It wasn't a good defense, but she needed it and clung to it desperately.

Finally, the phone rang and she picked it up "Hello?" she said, trying to sound as calm as she could, and allowing the more American-esq side of voice to fade.

"Hi, Marguerite. So glad we could make this happen, honestly I was surprised when you accepted the other night. Especially after all that went down."

"It's all water under the bridge, I understand why you made the decision.." She didn't feel that way at all, but being polite always got her ahead in the end.

"Good. But you know, it was never meant to be permanent, we have always, always loved you here. I mean that too, but Marguerite, do you care if I'm honest?"

"Not at all, go ahead."

Anna clears her throat "You were a mess after Louis died, and clearly, were not going to be able to function the way we needed. It was meant to be temporary, but you know what happened."

That, was most likely in reference to Marguerite's outbursts when she had been fired, and given a meaningless position in American Vogue. Then when she'd quit.

"But you did well at Garnier, and you've patched yourself up, well a little bit. But we're all works in progress."

"Anna, what is this about?" She asks curiously

"I'm looking for replacements, not for me, god no. But British Vogue, or French. If you'd be up for either of those."

"Ae you serious?"

"Why would I lie? Marguerite, you're a shoe in for either. You come from a reputable family, have experience with us and elsewhere. You've made yourself appear better than before."

"Where would you prefer, I go? If we discuss this further?" Marguerite was starting to wonder if this was how Kendall felt when he'd been promised Waystar over and over again. Or when he constantly fucked his father over for slivers of redemption.