The Double Face of the Designer's Son

Chapter 7.

Welp. I waited longer than intended. Sorry.

"Will you be going to bed now, Mr. Agreste?" Claire said, her tone sharp and bitter, her face forced into a stern glare. She stood on the stairs, having been awaiting the return of her boss from his adventures. He stood now in the entryway.

"Who put a stick up your ass?" Adrien grumbled.

"With all due respect, Mr. Agreste, you are a moron of infinitely large proportions." Claire scowled at her boss.

"I am not," Adrien said childishly.

"Let's see..." Claire counted on her fingers. "You react terribly to the designer, don't let the designer do her job, and make the designer CRY. She CRIED, Mr. Agreste."

"I told you not to call me that," Adrien said, his tone dark and dangerous.

"Yeah? Well, you're acting just like him! Face it: you're being a cold douche-bag," Claire said. Her tone wasn't malicious, but she was clearly agitated. She came down the stairs to stand directly in front of her boss.

"I ought'a fire your sorry butt," Adrien said, in English. His friends had taught him very well how to speak like an American. Claire smirked and replied in English with a slight French accent tainting her speech.

"With all due respect, Monsieur Agreste, I'm mandated to stay by my contract." Adrien rolled his eyes.

"Look, I just went out as Cat Noir and comforted her. It'll be fine," Adrien said.

"Yeah? How the hell do you expect me to get her back here to meet you or me ever again? Hmm?" Claire was being insolent, but at least she wasn't calling him "Mr. Agreste" anymore.

"Look, if anyone can, it's you. Now, I'm going to go up to bed. I will not be disturbed. Do I make myself clear?" Adrien stared into Claire's eyes. He saw her jaw flex and one eye twitched. She straightened her posture and pinched up her face resentfully.

"Yes, sir, Mr. Agreste."

-

A dial tone sounded in Claire's earpiece for the third time. She thought of a silent prayer to some nebulous deity.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up..." she whispered to the owner of the phone. The click of an answer sounded.

"Yes?" Marinette sounded indignant, but after having the designer's father curse at her excessively, anything was an improvement for Claire.

"Please, miss. I can arrange a meeting. Just us. Talk about whatever you like. He won't be there, I promise." The voice on the other end sighed.

"Fine. Tomorrow. 1 pm. In front of Dupain-Chang Boulangerie." The click of a hang-up sounded and Claire sighed deeply. She removed her glasses and rubbed her face. She was tired of this. At least the designer hadn't quit, and the boss might have a girlfriend on Friday.

-

"Where is he, Claire?" Marinette had been feeling apprehensive about this meeting as soon as she scheduled it. She had to know that Adrien wouldn't be there to spoil this.

"Calm down, miss. He's meeting with an investor, and afterward, he will be driven directly back to his house. He will not interfere with this. Why don't we go into the bakery and have a seat?" Marinette took a deep breath but agreed. The two women walked into the bakery and Marinette's father, being just behind the counter, squinted at Claire. In response, she simply nodded curtly and took her seat across from Marinette. "Now, I'm speaking to you not as Mr. Agreste's assistant, but as a simple man."

"Woman," muttered Marinette.

"Well, I was using man as in short for-" Claire waved her hands. "I digress. I'm speaking as a simple woman to say that Mr. Agreste is behaving atrociously. His father has given him a ridiculous ultimatum and he is very lonely without his friends. Nobody is getting into contact with him and he couldn't answer their communications in America because of his father's rules." Marinette sat up in her seat. She'd been slouching.

"He couldn't answer our calls, our texts...?"

"Or your letters. Gabriel was a horrible man."

"So... why did you agree to work for his son if you thought he was so bad?"

"I... that isn't the point. The point is, I'm apologizing for his frankly idiotic behavior. I'd like to ask you to please continue working for the company. If you don't want to meet with Mr. Agreste, you can meet with me, or I can arrange to have you talk with the investors... does anything sound good?"

"For right now, I'll continue meeting with Mr. Ag- Adrien. You'll have to talk to your boss about his behavior, though."

"Oh, I sure hope he's learned his lesson. I gave him quite a talking-to. You'd best believe that even as an assistant, I don't hold back. He can't fire me due to my contract." Claire sat back. "Is everything worked out now? Any questions for me?"

"What did you mean when you said Adrien was given an ultimatum?"

"Well, an ultimatum is-"

"I know what an ultimatum is. I meant, what ultimatum was he given?"

"Ah, that. I'm not at liberty to disclose that at this time. All I can say is that he might not inherit his father's company if he can't meet the conditions outlined in the will. He has six months. He's under a lot of stress."

"I'm- I'm sorry, I didn't-" Claire held up her hand with a smile.

"You'll be fine. Everything's all right, no thanks to my boss. Ain't that just how the cookie crumbles," she said, hoping the American turn of phrase lost nothing in translation. Seeing as Marinette gave her a judgemental squint, it probably had. "It means something along the lines of how the story goes... you know, how everything always goes."

"Ah. In that case, I agree."

"Alright," Claire said, standing up and reaching out to shake Marinette's hand. "I ought to be going now. If you need anything, business or personal, feel free to drop me a line." She made the phone sign with her thumb and pinkie and walked out of the bakery. This was when curiosity struck the designer. Claire's long black hair was in a double helix braid. Fascinating! Instantly, she began to figure out how to braid her own hair this way. It took an hour of video tutorials, but eventually, her hair was in a short DNA braid, just like the assistant's hair. It startled her when a hero streaked through the cloudy sky in pursuit of a villain.