39 Small contractual privileges

Friday, October 24rd

09h45am - Paris time

When they learned that they would be received in the President's office by this President himself who is well known for not caring about this part of his activity, Meg and the lawyer sent by Elite Paris were already very surprised. Adam, for his part, went with the tide and like the fry he is, waving his fins and quietly went up the current until he reached a heavy black wooden gate.

In the office, around the large circular table, in addition to the lawyer reading and rereading the contract to convince himself that everything is true, but above all that no trap is hidden inside these lines, Meg on her side, a second copy of the contract in hand, frowns without saying a word. Meg loves Adam and she wants the best for him, it's undeniable, indisputable and she won't let anyone say otherwise, but right now, what does all this mean?

Around the table, many people are in total loss. The destitute faces of almost all of them who still ignore the majority of the ins and outs of the case, of which their president has not revealed anything to them and which they all discover today, during a contract signing that was not to differ in the first place from the others, makes them feel like a violent pair of slaps served by big hands.

Meg, who cannot close her mouth, raises her face towards the president of Balmain who sweats with great water. Her hands shaking, she, who would never commit this clumsiness in normal times, shows inelegance by pointing to the contract. When Meg opens and closes her mouth one last time after swallowing her already scarce saliva, she inspires and looks at the face of each person present around the table.

"Forgive me, but there must be some mistake. I obviously want the best for Roy, however, I have only one question. What the hell is this?"

The man in the middle of the table puts his hand on his forehead to wipe away some of the sweat that disturbs his concentration. He arranges his shirt collar, leaving two greasy and damp fingerprints on it, turns by habit his watch once around his wrist, then feeling ready to answer, the man clears his throat noisily. Then follows a more or less convincing explanation, oriented more towards the less.

"You know what happened yesterday to our previous masculine muse? Perfect, it will save me explanations about a subject I didn't need. It turns out that yesterday, at the same time, we were receiving someone considering investing in our fashion house. Fortunately, this stain on our reputation did not affect this partnership, which will be very profitable for us in the future. However, this person demanded that we find a new masculine muse immediately. Being of American origin, this investor kindly guided us in the decision to select one of his country's models. The rest is not so complex to guess. We had an appointment this morning, the file of Mr. April at hand lands between those of our investor who briefly reviewed it and approved, making us understand, that choosing you would be a good idea. In our current situation, we have no problem with this solution. We need someone to represent our house and Roy is perfect for that. So my boy, are you interested in joining us, under the terms of this contract?"

Meg puts her hand on Adam's wrist as he was about to answer. The President can give him his speech, which he had to repeat more than 10 times in front of his mirror, but Meg is not blind. No one here even seems to be aware of the arrival of this famous investor, as far as this contract is concerned, who has already offered $100,000 a month to a near-beginner like Adam. If there was only this salary, Meg could turn a blind eye, however, this amount is a detail of the benefits reserved for Adam, which are set out in black and white in this leather case. If Meg, who is usually a gentle person, if she hates something, it is the people who think they can buy others.

"Mr. President, tell me if I'm wrong, an 8-room apartment in the Upper East side of New York City with a Maserati GranTurismo in its basement, VIP access to various clubs, restaurants and hotels without spending limits? I continue, $1500,000 at the signing and $100,000 per month, plus $150,000 per out-of-calendar performance fee. Do you want me to continue with the bank account opened in Roy's name with a starting credit of $7,800,000, which can be replenished every 3 months? Sorry, I forgot the house in Los Angeles, thank you for the reminder, Master."

°°°

"Mel, I think we've been very stingy with my Adam. How is he going to live with so little? And if he gets sick, will that be enough for him to consult a doctor? Really, Mel, I'm very worried."

Over the Atlantic, in a private plane, Jessica is very stressed for having taken into account the opinion of her legal agent and of other. Mel, who assumes that her miss believes that a doctor's consultation is worth a few million, shakes her head and smiles.

"No, Miss Benson, we have to be discreet. We played finely on the contrary. I assure you that such small sums will not alert anyone. If Mr. Adam were really sick, run to him and play the Princess with a big heart to make this woman with a big chest understand where she belongs, before throwing her out of your way."

Her eyes light up when Jessica, whose scene is currently being played in her head, sees herself kicking Meg's ass. She cheers very cheerfully for this brilliant and amusing idea. However, her gaze quickly becomes dull again when she again watched her legal counsel instantly settle on himself. "Speaking of this despicable woman. Why didn't you allow me to add the clause I wanted to the contract."

While Mel remembers the special clause (forbidden to the sow), after the car, apartment, house and so on it seems to him, Mel asks himself the fundamental question. [Do I realy have to answer that question, knowing that I'll be yelled at anyway?] A little sigh of helplessness escapes Mel's lips, who after putting a hand on his miss's shoulder, who, following this buddy/ buddy action she doesn't like, frowned. Mel these last few days is nervously exhausted and it is in this state of mind that he says to himself: Come what may. As he begins a long tirade.

"Miss Benson, you are part of what we ordinary mortals cannot understand. Above us is the sky and well above the sky is our Miss Benson. You are that kind of great visionary, that we humble people, who are 20 years behind your higher thoughts, cannot follow the too fast reasoning that is yours. Our little us, in front of the big you, us..."

With her teeth clenched, Jessica listens to this guy who obviously makes fun of her. Not only does he mock, but he takes an undisguised pleasure in it," Jessica, whose breathing is becoming fast, looks to her left, waves her hands at her personal men in black, who run to their mistress on the first call.

"John, Ted, I never want to see his face again. Throw it overboard and have a drink in his memory. I'm going to rest in my room, so don't let anyone disturb me until we reach New York."