cannibal; kendall roy

76

"You see anything you like?" Lukas Matsson nudges Marguerite Garnier—or Marguerite Roy, in the arm as they attempt to blissfully walk around the art gallery. The GoJo team lingering in the background, as well as the fucking disgusting brothers themselves. Greg and Tom. "I'm serious. I'll get you a homecoming gift. Don't women like that kind of thing?" He teases her gently, then adding something along the lines of "Was that a good Kendall impression?"

He was working, yes—searching for the right option to become CEO of Waystar RoyCo for the deal, and he had brought Marguerite along on this particular soirée, one because he wanted to desperately take her out in public, two because he wanted to spend time with her, and three— he wanted her opinion.

Everyone in this room wanted what was best for them. The way he saw things—Marguerite didn't give a shit about anything involving Waystar, and therefore, her opinion was as unbiased, but critical as it could be. Making her thoughts more precious than any joke Oskar could cough up about the way Greg walked.

Her eyes flash over a few pieces, but nothing is eye catching enough to make her want it. "I have a few of my father's works in a vault in France. We can pick a couple out."

"Your dad—He painted?" The sentence she'd just said had sounded almost criminally insane to him. He really didn't understand how that was even humanly possible.

From all that he had gathered about Louis Garnier, it was that he was a confusing guy. Wild, in his early days—and then straightened out into a man who did his work and then went to bed. He didn't sound like he had hobbies, or lived anywhere besides his awful. The more mild and boring version of Logan Roy—but French and with a family whose life practically read as a soap opera.

"He did before his dad died. He was good, or at least I think he was."

"I didn't know that" he straightens his back a little, squirming as he turns around to look back in the direction of Tom and Greg. "There's actually a lot that I don't know about you."

"I could say the same for you. Except, you've what? Given me a job."

Lukas grimaces a little, despite knowing she's joking, he can't help but feel a little miffed by the comment "And more. Of course."

"Absolutely. You've done a lot for me. Hell, I'd probably be in Barbados right now, drinking myself into a hole with Kendall—if not for you. So, thank you."

He places an arm around her shoulder, and leans in to press a kiss to the top of her head—eyes once again darting over in the direction of Greg, with whom he makes eye contact with. "I think I'm flustering little Greggy."

Marguerite rolls her eyes, looking over at him "He's practically on fire. They both are."

"They're that scared?" Lukas asks, laughing a little "I'm not so good with uh—taking the temperature of the room. You know that."

"Yeah. They're like little dancing weasels."

"Dancing weasels. Like in Fantasia? The hippos with the skirts?"

"Exactly."

Lukas pulls her aside, a little, moving them out of Greg and Tom's viewpoint. "During my dinner with Tom, I'm leaving you with Oskar and Greg. I want you and Oskar on the human rat. Okay?"

"Why? Greg is so" Marguerite makes a face "He's practically nothing."

"He follows Tom-Tom around like a puppy, I need him away from him. So I can try and feel for the real deal."

She knew he'd been shopping around for CEO's, but never thought that it would come down to Tom.

"Wait—that's what this is? You aren't firing them?"