The Paris Connection. Cerella Sechrist

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The Paris Connection - Cerella Sechrist Mills & Boon Heartwarming

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style="font-size:15px;">      CHAPTER ONE

      A BLARING HORN caused Emma Brooks to cringe as she cut a sharp right and narrowly avoided sideswiping the vehicle next to her. She quickly accelerated past the tiny smart car and sped through the roundabout in an attempt to get ahead, only to slam on the brakes when another car cut her off.

      “Ah! Crazy Parisian drivers!”

      She jerked the wheel and quickly eased into a rare car-length gap as she continued heading in the direction of Charles de Gaulle Airport. She checked the time and bit back a groan. She was already twenty minutes late with no end to the Paris traffic in sight.

      “This is why I travel by métro in the city,” she announced to the empty car. She had lived in Paris for ten years and had never learned to embrace the daredevil driving of the French. She used to tell her ex-husband, Brice, that if she wanted to take her life into her own hands, she’d go swimming with sharks or take up skydiving. In her opinion, both of these options presented less risk than getting behind the wheel in her adopted city.

      Another car came up suddenly from behind, sliding alongside her so close that she could have sworn only a sheet of paper would have fit between them. She knew better than to stop, though. The best thing to do in Paris traffic was to keep going and pray that the tide would just flow around you. Why, oh why, had she not told her boss, Julien, to send someone else to the airport?

      She sighed. A stupid question. She knew why—because she didn’t want to disappoint her mentor, and she certainly didn’t wish to appear less than competent when it came to navigating the city. After all, she needed that edge to hopefully one day reclaim the promotion she’d been promised. The promotion that now belonged to the fellow American she had been sent to pick up. This reminder only rankled further. In a perfect world, she would be happily ensconced in the CEO’s office of Aquitaine Enterprises, the executive recruiting firm she worked for. Instead, she was risking her life in a European version of go-kart driving to welcome the man who’d been awarded the position in her place.

      New York businesswoman Lillian Reid had reached out to Julien six weeks ago about the possibility of joining her firm, Reid Recruiting, with Aquitaine. After several negotiations and a trip to the United States, Julien had announced the very thing Emma had cautioned against—they would be joining forces with the American company to create an international presence. He had thought she would be pleased. After all, not only was she American born and bred, but she still retained her citizenship there. She had always made it clear that while she loved Paris and considered it her home, she still did, and always would, consider herself American first and foremost. In light of that, she had been hard-pressed to explain to Julien her dissatisfaction with this merger. It went beyond her promotion tanking. She didn’t like seeing Julien have to share everything he’d worked for over the years. He had been good to her, especially after her divorce when she’d struggled to balance her job and the responsibility of a newborn daughter. He had watched out for her. Now she wanted to return the favor.

      Focusing on the line of traffic before her, she craned her neck to try to see ahead. Cars stretched out in every direction, and she was now—she consulted the time once more—twenty-five minutes late. She had thought about calling the office to alert them she was running behind, but in her nervousness about picking up the company car that morning, she’d left her cell phone on her desk. And there was no way she was going to try to pull out of this mess just to call in and let Julien know about the delay.

      No, she’d just have to offer her apologies once she reached the airport and hope the new boss was understanding. After all, as her former mother-in-law always said, with her typical c’est la vie mind-set, “Why worry about a little delay?”

      * * *

      COLE DORSET CHECKED his watch for what he estimated was the eighteenth time and ground his teeth together. Where was this Emma, the woman who’d been sent to pick him up from the airport? He had called in to the office twice now and been reassured both times that she was on the way. But the meeting with the board of directors and company employees was set to take place in thirty minutes, and he was still stuck in the waiting area outside customs at the Charles de Gaulle Airport. His tension grew as he impatiently felt the minutes ticking by. This was not the auspicious beginning he’d hoped to create on his first day. It was bad enough he’d been sent to this country but now, after the long plane ride, to be kept waiting like this...

      It was well beyond the limits of his frayed patience. Moving to Paris was not his dream. That desire had belonged to his ex-girlfriend, Ophelia. Then she’d broken up with him, left the company and moved to Hawaii to marry the man she’d been sent to recruit. Losing Ophelia was difficult enough—though he still wasn’t certain if he’d been in love with her. They’d been together for four years; their lives had become intertwined. And while she had moved on, he was still left at loose ends, sent to take on the role that was meant to be hers. It seemed a grossly unfair consolation prize for what he had lost.

      Agitated by these thoughts, Cole stood and began pacing the aisles in the waiting area. He made another sweep of the room, searching for a woman who fit the description of Emma Brooks. It wasn’t much to go on. Any of the medium-height women with long, dark hair could have been her, but it was evident that most of them were waiting for friends or loved ones by their relaxed postures or the way they toyed with their phones. He’d been expecting someone in professional attire, with a sign to indicate she was his liaison.

      Had he missed her? The line for immigration and customs hadn’t taken any longer than anticipated, but perhaps she’d been waiting and, for whatever reason, assumed he wasn’t coming? But the receptionist at Aquitaine had reassured him Emma would be arriving shortly. He pulled out his cell phone and debated calling Julien. He hardly wanted to appear the helpless American, especially given his new position as CEO, but at some point, he was going to have to accept that he’d either been stood up or a miscommunication had occurred. The thought rankled.

      What sort of incompetency left the new boss stranded in the airport on his first day? It didn’t bode well for the future of this enterprise. What had Lillian been thinking, merging her company with a foreign one?

      Well, he knew the answer to that. She’d been smart to join with a firm already established in Paris. Such a move only served to strengthen both businesses. Reid Recruiting would tap into a market that already held contacts and a solid reputation overseas, and vice versa for Julien’s firm. Cole’s only objection had been when Lillian had promoted him from senior executive recruiter to executive director and CEO of the Paris firm. Despite his protestations, her wishes were clear—if he wanted his career to advance any further, he would accept the promotion and move to Paris. He had worked too long and hard at Reid Recruiting to see his future there stall now. And so, here he was, travel-weary and already homesick for New York, wondering if his American counterpart had simply abandoned him and whether he had made a mistake in accepting Lillian’s directive.

      In any case, it didn’t matter. It was too late to go back now.

      Turning away, he gathered his luggage and moved toward the exit where ground transportation was advertised in both English and French. If Aquitaine wasn’t coming to him, he’d simply have to go to them.

      * * *

      EMMA HURRIED FROM the car park and toward the elevator leading to Terminal Two. She couldn’t bear to look at her watch even once more, didn’t want to consider how late she was.

      Emerging from the elevator, she rushed toward the secure waiting areas where passengers were funneled after clearing customs. It had been ages since she’d gone through that procedure, not since she’d returned to the United States four years ago for her mother’s funeral. Between raising Avery and her job with Aquitaine, there never seemed

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