Chapter Text
Marinette had anticipated this day for weeks, yet as she stepped into the Gabriel Flagship store, a jumble of emotions washed over her. Today, she was an employee, not a customer, and that distinction felt both thrilling and daunting. Her heels clicked against the marble floor, a sound that should have signified triumph but echoed uncertainty. She paused in the perfume department, inhaling the wonderful scent of flowers mingled with the bittersweet aroma of ambition and doubt.
Oh yes! Success had never smelt so expensive.
‘Miss Dupain-Cheng, welcome.’
Gabriel’s assistant, Nathalie, welcomed her, leading her through the displays and towards the back of the store. No-man's-land to those just there to look around and spend their hard-earned money. But for her, it was the entrance into Narnia.
‘We will have your keycard ready for tomorrow, and the codes for the lifts. You’ll be mainly working on the 4th floor for designing, but then the windows are obviously on the ground floor.’
Marinette wondered if stating ‘no shit Sherlock’ would be a sure way of getting herself fired already.
‘That sounds great. Thank you.’
They continued moving, through corridors, up lifts and into a maze Marinette was sure she'd get lost in as soon as she began working here. She could imagine it now, calling someone to find her and praying they could use ‘Find my iPhone’. Maybe she should get one of those little wristbands where she can attach her AirTag.
‘Mr Agreste will be here two days a week, then working from his home the rest. You will attend briefings, staff meetings, and general updates during those two days. He will expect you to be on time, precise and have clear numbers and statistics to give him. He doesn’t have time for general conversation or well-being checks.’
Marinette frowned. ‘Do we not get well-being checks?’
‘You’re working at Gabriel. That’s enough in itself.’
Marinette gulped, almost terrified by the thoughts of what she had done. No well-being checks. Focused meetings. How the hell was she meant to get any advice for anything?
‘If—if there’s a problem, who do I contact?’
‘Problem?’ Nathalie spoke the word like she’d never heard it before. ‘What do you mean, problem?’
Marinette felt the heat rise from her neck. ‘Just if I need a second opinion, who should I contact?’
Marinette may as well have asked Nathalie what she should do if she gets the runs. The look of disgust was clear both on her face and the way she took a step back, increasing the distance between the two of them.
‘Gabriel has hired you. You shouldn’t need a second opinion. Miss Dupain-Cheng, if you don’t feel up to the —’
‘No! No! I’m all good! Absolutely fine. It was just hypothetical. I’m very skilled at my job…very!’
Nathalie glanced over before continuing her stride down the corridor, passing the one thing that almost made her not take the job. A giant portrait of arrogance…and abs.
Blond. Male. Tall. Evil.
Adrien Agreste.
She hadn’t seen him in five years, and she couldn’t help but hope it stayed that way. He wasn’t her favourite person, nor did he make the top ten… or the top one million to be honest. Adrien Agreste added to her teenage mortification, and it was no thanks to him she’d succeeded. His instant dislike of her spurred her on, making her strive to prove herself after he wrote her off just by name.
He was friends with her childhood nemesis, Chloé Bourgeois. Another one of her minions, who was put on the planet to make her life a living hell. But Marinette was a grown-ass woman now. Despite the Chloé club, which tried to prevent her success, she grew and built a life for herself.
Adrien had only been at their school a couple of months before moving to boarding school in London. They hadn’t spoken during their time in college, and if she could keep that up, all the better.
‘You are expected to dress appropriately while the store is open. Professional dress wear during store opening hours. If you need to come in for a night window change, you will need to wear Gabriel activewear. At no point should you be seen in the store, or around the store, in anything other than Gabriel. Which brings me to this…’ Nathalie handed Marinette a Black card, complete with Gabriel’s silver logo prominent in the middle. ‘This will give you eighty percent off all ranges, from underwear to ball gowns.’
‘Oh wow! That’s — that’s amazing.’
‘It is. Don’t take it for granted.’
Nathalie stopped outside the boardroom door. Grabbing her lanyard, she scanned it on the keypad and let herself into the room, holding the door open for Marinette to walk through next.
‘This is the boardroom. You are required to be here every Monday morning at 7:30 a.m. on the dot. Gabriel will start without you if not, and believe me, you don’t want to be the face missing. Just so you know, on time means you’re late.’
‘Noted,’ she said. They moved around the table toward an office.
‘You will find me here on the same days that Gabriel is in.’
That didn't really matter after all; Marinette wouldn't be finding anyone–it was against her contract. If there was going to be an issue; she was on her own in finding an answer to it. When she’d taken the job, she didn’t realise she was selling her soul to the devil himself.
‘Take a seat.’
Marinette slid into the chair opposite Nathalie as she tapped around on the computer.
‘When Gabriel and I are not in the office, Miss Rossi will be your working manager. If there is something that needs to be checked, she will be the one doing it. However, you are not under her orders; you work strictly for Gabriel. Miss Rossi cannot pull you from your assigned jobs, or change anything without Gabriel’s say-so.’
Marinette nodded. That seemed fair enough. ‘Am I working with anyone else?’
Nathalie studied Marinette’s face first, almost like she wanted to vet her before revealing the next piece of information. Anyone would think she was about to fill Marinette in on the next MI6 mission. Was she here as a secret agent? Not a window designer.
She pulled out an envelope and handed it over to Marinette.
‘Inside there is an itinerary of everything that’s happening. You will get a new one every week, so please don’t lose them. They tell you who you’re working with and where you need to be.’
Marinette pulled the timetable from the confines of the envelope and laid it out on the desk.
‘So as you see, you will be with the women’s fashion lead in the morning, men’s in the afternoon. You will also meet with accessories and footwear, then over the weekend you will work on updating the window display to correlate with the following week’s push.’
Marinette continued scanning the table as Nathalie spoke, sharing with her about where to find stepladders and staple guns. Then she finally saw a name. A name at the very bottom.
A. Agreste.
No! It couldn’t be! Could it?
‘Who’s A. Agreste?’
Nathalie looked at Marinette without an ounce of enthusiasm on her face. She laced her fingers together and placed her hands on the desk. ‘You do know the Gabriel brand, correct?’
Marinette shuffled side to side. The way Nathalie carried herself made her feel like a child. There was a chance after today she’d be phoning up Gabriel and begging him to retract her contract.
‘Yes, of course. Just the only person with A is—’
‘Adrien. Correct. He’s collaborating a lot more with Gabriel now that he’s back in Paris. You will need to model the mannequin poses from him.’
‘Oh! Wow! That sounds…great.’ The tone of her voice was enough to clarify that it really, really wasn’t great, or anything linked to great.
‘Yes, Adrien is eager. He said he remembers you from collège, is that correct?’
Marinette gritted her teeth, rolling them together. ‘Yep. We knew each other.’
‘Great! That’s sorted then. Well, I won’t keep you any longer. If you head down to the women’s department, you can start getting an idea for this weekend’s window change. Now if you'll excuse me.’
A clear sign of ‘we’re done, so get out’. Marinette thanked Nathalie once more and headed through the briefing room and towards the locker room. Her timetable told her to put her bag and equipment there first.
Already, her dream job was becoming a nightmare. And she hadn’t even been here an hour yet.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
‘Hey Mare Bear, how was your day?’
Marinette groaned as she collapsed on her bed, phone to her ear and boyfriend, Luka, on the other end.
‘Remind me again why I thought taking this job determined how well I’ve done in life?’
Luka’s laugh hit her ears like her favourite melody, warming her from the inside out. ‘It can’t be that bad, baby. It’s just new. You’re finally working with the biggest designer in Paris; to get to the top, he must have quite the arrogance.’
‘I’m not even allowed to ask for help, Luk.’
‘That’s because you won’t need it. Look, Gabriel’s obviously chosen someone he knows can get the job done without having to hold their hand. I’m a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t think you could do it.’
That was true.
‘I hate you, you know?’
Luka chuckled at the other end of the phone. ‘And I love you too.’
‘How do you always know what to say? It’s like you have a crazy, amazing way with words.’
‘Well, you know, it is my day job.’
Marinette smiled for what she felt was the first time that day. ‘How’s the tour going, anyway? Miss me yet?’
‘Baby, I missed you as soon as I left the apartment. Do you miss me?’
Marinette waited a beat before answering. ‘Nah. I love star-fishing in bed.’
‘You do that when I’m there.’
‘Yeah, but nobody pushes me back to my side when you’re away.’
‘Damn, you know how to make me feel wanted.’
Marinette giggled and stood from the bed, tucking her phone between her ear and shoulder as she walked to the small kitchen in their quaint apartment. Modest and cute.
‘When are you coming home?’ she asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a plate of leftovers from the previous night.
Removing the lid, she gave it a sniff. That’d be fine.
‘Don’t know yet. My father wants to tour a couple more places in the UK that we hadn’t planned for. Apparently, they’re memories from when he was a kid, and I just have to see them.’
Marinette opened the microwave and put the container inside. Flicking the timer and turning it on.
‘I hope you have enough clean boxers.’
Luka burst out laughing. ‘Man, how married do we sound?’
She replied in the smoothest, silkiest voice she could. ‘How married would you like to sound?’
Shouting came from the background of the phone, Luka talking in the distance.
His voice came back, and she was sure he'd missed what she’d said. ‘Listen, babe, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Chin up, it’ll all work out.’
Deflated, she tried to smile. ‘Sure. I’ll text you in the morning. I love you.’
‘Love you too, Mare Bear.’
Marinette turned off her phone and placed it on the counter, pulling her dinner from the microwave. It wasn’t the first time she’d teased Luka with marriage, nor was it the first time he’d brought up their sounding like a married couple. But every time it went into serious territory, he pulled back.
Tikki floated out from the cookie jar and came to sit beside Marinette, a small smile on her lips that didn’t reach her eyes.
Sitting on the counter and looking around the apartment, Marinette suddenly felt cold and lonely. Something that was becoming a lot more frequent than she would like to admit, both when he was away and when he wasn’t.