The Paris Opportunity

Elena stood outside Celia Harrington's high-rise office building, her fingers trembling around the strap of her handbag. She had chosen a navy blue pantsuit, the one she wore when she wanted to feel powerful—even if, inside, she was a swirl of nerves and doubt. The rain had stopped, but the sky remained heavy, like it, too, was waiting for something.

She stepped into the lobby and nodded at the receptionist. "Elena Reid. I have a 3 PM meeting with Ms. Harrington."

"Go right in," the woman replied with a polite smile.

Elena's heels clicked across the polished marble floor as she entered the office. Celia stood by the window, dressed in her usual elegant black dress, arms crossed, lips tight. She turned at the sound of the door.

"Elena," she said curtly. "Right on time. Sit."

Elena obeyed, taking in the third person in the room—a tall man with silver-streaked hair, dressed in a charcoal suit. He had a Parisian air, sophisticated but calculating.

"This is Monsieur Duvet," Celia said. "He represents Maison Lioré in Paris. They've recently expanded into contemporary design and are looking for young, innovative talent."

Monsieur Duvet extended his hand. "Mademoiselle Reid. Your 'Stormlight' collection was most impressive."

Elena blinked. "You've seen my work?"

He smiled faintly. "Talent has a way of finding the right eyes."

Celia arched a brow. "I told you, Elena. Your downfall was never talent. It was poor judgment."

Elena flushed but stayed composed.

Monsieur Duvet continued, "We would like to offer you a short-term contract—six months in Paris. A collaborative collection. If successful, it becomes permanent."

The words barely registered before her breath hitched. Paris. A chance. Redemption.

She swallowed. "I... need to think about it."

Celia snorted. "You'd be a fool to hesitate."

Elena stood. "With respect, Ms. Harrington, I've learned not to make life-altering decisions in fifteen minutes."

Monsieur Duvet nodded approvingly. "Take until the weekend. But we hope to hear good news."

After she left the building, Elena's hands shook as she dialed Aidan's number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Elle?"

"I need to see you. Now."

Minutes later, they sat in the café where they'd once argued bitterly. This time, the air between them was warmer—still cautious, but open.

"I got offered a job. In Paris. Six months. It's huge."

Aidan blinked. "That's... incredible."

"And terrifying."

He reached for her hand. "What do you want me to say?"

She exhaled. "I don't know. That you'll wait for me? That we'll figure it out?"

His voice softened. "I'll wait. I'll fly there if I have to. I just want you to shine."

Tears welled in her eyes. "I'm scared I'll lose you."

"You won't," he said. "You'd have to run a lot faster."

They laughed, and in that moment, she realized that the pieces of her life—though scattered—were starting to fit again.