Page 2 of You + Me 2: Face To Face

The strategy meeting begins, and I try to keep up, despite the questions whirling through my mind. King Productions, a rapidly expanding production and distribution company, has recently decided to launch a subsidiary in France. The boss and his right-hand man take turns discussing strategies, objectives, and short-, medium-, and long-term action plans.

For over an hour, I strive to remain professional. I take notes and speak up on a few rare occasions, only when I feel it is relevant. Or rather, only when Vadim has his back turned to me. I never address him directly, too intimidated by this new version of him and the indifference he shows. He doesn’t allow himself to be distracted. He introduces himself to all his employees in flawless French, with a slight accent that is, once again, utterly charming.

Still no glance, no smile—not a single sign that acknowledges we aren’t complete strangers. Apparently, Vadim King doesn’t care one little bit about the distant memory that is Alma Lancaster. I was once the great love of his youth; now I’m just an invisible little employee.

The torture session comes to an end. I rise painfully from my chair and immediately bump into Sophie Adam. The production manager, who is also my friend, laughs at my dismayed expression.

“Oh, sorry.”

“It’s okay, Alma, I’m still in one piece! But more importantly, did you have any idea that Mr. King looked like that?”

“Who?”

As I talk to her, my eyes search the room for Vadim, toying with the idea of running after him before he escapes.

“King—the boss! Honestly, if the Sun King is looking for his Pompadour, I’ll volunteer…”

“The Sun King was Louis XIV. I think Pompadour was Louis XV’s mistress… Um, Sophie, have you forgotten that you got married three months ago?”

“That’s a minor detail! Anyway, catch you later. I have to go see Clarence.” The pretty blonde smiles at me and then totters away on her four-inch heels.

I rush toward the exit, but this time I’m stopped in my tracks by a slender young man with brown hair that I don’t know. He holds out his hand and gives me a warm smile.

“Maximilian Finn. You’re Alma Lancaster, the deputy director, right?”

He has a broad American accent and an easygoing expression that immediately inspires trust.

“Yes, nice to meet you. And you are?”

“Mr. King’s personal assistant. I wanted to introduce myself to everyone. The meeting was a success, don’t you think? Everyone already seems very invested. King France has a bright future!”

“Do you know where Vadim… King is? I would have liked to say hello to him.”

I try to keep my composure, but I’m terrible at feigning indifference.

“Mr. King is very busy. Would you like me to pass on a message to him?”

“No, thank you, I’ll wait for our next meeting.”

I fix my eyes on the stubbornly black screen of my phone and pretend to take an urgent call as an excuse to leave the assistant.

If only you could call yourself in situations like this.

I consider patenting this feature for the next iPhone, becoming a millionaire, and exiling myself to a remote island paradise far away from this Vadim whom I no longer know and who clearly feels the same way about me.

But first, I need to catch up with him.

Once in the hallway, I rush into one of the elevators, praying for a quick descent. When I reach the lobby, I dash past reception, slip through an entrance turnstile, and step out onto the Champs-Élysées. Thirty feet away, I spot Joseph Wilson shaking Vadim’s hand. Vadim climbs into the back of a black sedan, and it pulls away.

He saw me and recognized me, but didn’t want to speak to me. Or even look at me.

Vadim Arcadi would never have ignored me. Vadim King, on the other hand, has chosen to act as if I never existed.

I’m still trembling when Joseph Wilson plants himself right in front of me, hands on his hips and a smug smile on his lips.

“Alma, it’s time to pop the champagne! Our new boss is extremely pleased with how the meeting went—and with the whole team, in fact. He has big plans for us. Come on, let’s head back to my office.” He gives me an awkward wink.

I can’t even manage a sigh. Frozen in place, I stare at the parking spot where the black car had been. I can’t help wondering whether Vadim is as shaken as I am right now, despite his outward calm.