Monsieur Moreau

Chapter One: A New Start

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It's been exactly one year since that dreadful day. That day... I can still remember it like it was yesterday. It was a horrible and painful day.

The death of Jack Harrington took a toll on all of us. By us, I mean, just me. Alyssandra Walker.

My mother was indeed forlorn over the fact that the one boy who was able to make me happy perished away, like a baby bird leaving its mother's nest after it learned how to spread its wings.

My father, married to his work instead of his wife, cared nothing about the boy who died in the tragic motorcycle accident.

I knew my father. He never had the desire to care for anyone or anything but his work. And only his work was going to help me succeed in life.

You see, my father is the CEO of America's reigning company, Walker Incorporations. Walker Inc., for short.

Walker Incorporations was my father's most beloved prize in the world. He built this business up with his father. It meant the world to him.

Even meaning more than his wife and daughter.

All throughout college, my father always made me do my very best in school. That meant I had to get straight A's and a 4.0 GPA.

I didn't have any objections though. I enjoyed learning in school. I was studying business just so I could take over my father's company. He didn't force it on me. I wanted to work for his company.

Things took a drastic turn when Jack Harrington died.

My father believed Jack's death was a distraction to my success. Instead of letting me work for his company, I was sent to live with my aunt in France and finish up my last year of university.

You're probably thinking, "France? That's where Paris is, right?" That's what everyone thinks when they think of France.

Ah. Paris. The city of love. It seems that every foreigner who has never been to the so-called city of love believes it to be such a romantic place.

I guess it's romantic when the streets are filled with dried up urine and cigarette butts. I'm sure it's super romantic there.

The only beautiful thing about France was that my aunt didn't live in Paris. She lived in the small yet wonderful town of Lognes.

Lognes, a tiny suburb only 30 minutes away from Paris, was the most comfortable place anyone would want to be. It was a suburb in which one could find absolute peace. Absolute peace.

Don't get me wrong. I love the city. I'm a city girl, of course. Born and raised in the great New York City. Paris was all too familiar. It was just like living in New York City all over again.

The current events of crowded metro stations and busy streets left me in agony. The fact that some people could not even walk in a straight line made me wonder what kind of life they lived. Were they on drugs or what?

Paris was lovely for a city girl like me but, just like New York, crowded places suffocate me. I would rather come home to a quiet house than be bombarded by my roommate's loud music the minute I stepped into my apartment.

Sadly, I could only come "home" to that quiet house in Lognes during the nights. During the days, I would spend 8AM to 4PM, Monday thru Thursday, at the L'Université de Paris, or the University of Paris.

My Fridays would consist of me calling around different corporations around Paris in order for me to get an internship.

You ask why? My father, that devil of a man, has alas given his younger brother the company. Apparently, I was to live in France for the rest of my life. Genius, my father is.

It wasn't until one day, while laying on my bed, my Macbook on my lap, did I run across an opening for an intern at the most prestigious corporation across all of Europe, Le Moreau Entreprise.

Le Moreau Entreprise was owned by the notorious Étienne Moreau, a really handsome man who was said to be a ruthless boss. Boy, am I in for a real treat.

As soon as I saw that opening, I reached for my iPhone and dialed the office's number to schedule an appointment with Mr. Moreau, knowing well that his secretary would answer the phone.

Calling +339825768703...

"Allo?" (Hello?)

"Allo, c'est 'Le Moreau Entreprise', n'est-ce pas?" (Hello, is this Moreau Enterprise?)

"Oui, que puis-je faire pour vous?" (Yes, how can I help you?)

"Je suis Alyssandra Walker et je voudrais prévoir un rendez-vous avec Monsieur Moreau. C'est au sujet du stage dans l'entreprise." (I am Alyssandra Walker and I would like to schedule an appointment with Mr. Moreau. It's about the internship at his company.)

"Ah oui, le stage. Un moment, s'il vous plâit." (Ah yes, the internship. One moment please.)

"Bien sûr." (Of course.)

I waited as she put me on hold, no doubt to ask the ruthless Mr. Moreau if she could make room for me in his schedule.

There was no music, no advertisements, not anything to keep the caller from staying on the line. Just silence. Absolute silence.

No doubt to stop people from calling.

Then I heard a click and the secretary spoke again.

"Mademoiselle Walker?" (Miss Walker?)

"Oui, je suis là." (Yes, I'm here.)

"Monsieur Moreau a accepté un entretien avec toi. Veuillez arriver à 10 h 30 demain matin. Monsieur Moreau ne prit pas les arriveé tardives." (Mr. Moreau has accepted an interview with you. Please arrive at 10:30AM tomorrow morning. Mr. Moreau does not take late arrivals.)

"Bien sûr. Merci pour votre temps." (Of course. Thank you for your time.)

"Ce n'est pas de problème. Bonne chance." (It's no problem. Good luck.)

"Merci, au revoir." (Thank you, goodbye.)

"Au revoir." (Goodbye.)

I clicked the 'end call' button on my phone and tossed it to the side of my bed. Placing my Macbook on the nightstand, I snuggled into the comforters of my sheets and closed my eyes.

Tomorrow was the day I would start afresh.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

A new start to begin the next part of my life.

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