Seventy-Nine: Profits Are Up, Expenses Are Down…
Adrien faces the House of Gabriel Board of Directors and makes his pitch.
Running across the rooftops of Paris did a little to alleviate the nerves that I just couldn't seem to shake.
Given how my typical day would routinely see Chat Noir boldly charging toward danger in order to protect Paris, I tried not to dwell on how my fur brain was frantically trying to convince me to take a sick day and hide out in nice, quiet corner of the garden at Versailles in order to avoid the Board Meeting. As tempting a prospect at it seemed, though, images of a smiling Marinette would pop into my mind's eye, and I knew my desire not to disappoint her was more than enough motivation to continue to hurl myself ever closer to House of Gabriel. My fiancé was right: deep down, a part of me did believe I'd be able to pull off the presentation of my life – assuming I could tamp down my nerves sufficiently, of course.
Chat Noir, I laughed mirthlessly to myself, feline of constant contradictions.
Thinking back to my conversation with Marinette, I toyed with the idea of visualizing Felix as an akumatized villain. It wasn't all that hard to pull off considering he clearly had emotional issues Hawkmoth could totally work with; thinking about it a bit more, I realized there wasn't much difference between Hawkmoth's desire to get his hands on my Miraculous and what Felix was attempting with our family company. Grinning grimly as I landed atop our office building, I decided it was a visualization I could get behind and kept it front-and-center as I trotted over to the rooftop stairwell entrance. But there I paused, one paw on the handle; struck by an inspiration, I trotted back to the edge of the building and performed an elegant swan dive into the blind alley beside it. Extending my baton at the last moment, I landed gracefully on my boots in the dark recesses, made sure the space was empty aside from one human-sized feline, and then dropped my transformation.
A moment later, I walked through the main lobby of House of Gabriel and detoured to the small coffee shop we had on the first floor; as I expected, a few fans were about, delaying me slightly with autographs and selfies, but at length, I stepped off the elevator on the executive floor carrying a small box of pastries topped by a carrier holding multiple kinds of coffee. My latent feline sense of smell could pick out each pastry by type, on top of relishing in the pure bliss of a freshly brewed cup of joe. Using my back to push through the door to the conference room, I had my megawatt model smile on as I turned toward the Board.
To my surprise, my arrival had gone completely unnoticed.
I paused just inside the door and saw with some amazement that the four men and five women that comprised our Board were otherwise engrossed in a veritable buffet of goodies that had been fashionably laid out along the centerline of the massive wooden table. Two massive cardboard containers of coffee bearing the logo of the Dupain-Cheng Bakery were on the side banquet bookended by a massive tower of fresh fruit on one end, and a pile of (I sniffed) passionfruit macarons stacked artistically on the other. Seeing the hand of my fiancé at work, I tried to hide my poor offerings behind the fruit tree, wondering all the while how Marinette had found the time to place the order with her parent's bakery. I smiled to myself, seeing her own civilian version of a Lucky Charm, whipped up just for me; the thought that she had done something so special warmed my soul and completely knocked down the anxiety I'd been feeling.
Once more, My Lady had come to my rescue.
Taking a cup from the sideboard, I poured myself some coffee, reveling in the distinct aroma of Tom's special blend, then turned toward the task at hand. It wasn't hard to mount a charm campaign with the members of the board, for most were people I had known from my teenage years; when my mother disappeared, Father had begun to include me in official business, priming me to become a part of his well-oiled machine. But as I caught up with each of them, I realized my efforts were wasted; to a person, each appeared to be in an exceptionally buoyant mood. That was incredibly surprising, given the gravity of the meeting's stated purpose – and the fact that on a good day, it was nearly impossible to get any of them in agreement about anything. I found myself looking at the well picked-over buffet and wondered if they were suffering from the aftereffects of overindulging in fine food.
Taking my place at the lectern perched just off one end of the table, I logged into the small laptop we used for presentations and fired up the wall screen behind me, picking up random snippets of conversation in the process. A partial smile appeared on my lips, for compared to any other Board Meeting I had ever been to, this was beginning to feel a bit like we were all at some sort of fashionable dinner party (pun intended).
"This is damn peculiar," I breathed to an audience of one as I pulled the USB stick holding my presentation from a pocket and bent over to plug it into the laptop.
When I didn't feel the obligatory movement in my jacket pocket, I straightened up and surreptitiously rebuttoned it, gently pressing my arm against Plagg's usual hiding spot. It was hard to keep my face impassive as the cold shock of realization washed over me: my kwami was nowhere to be found. Heart suddenly pounding in my ears, my eyes darted around the room, focusing in on the buffet for a telltale flash of black spiriting away a morsel of cheese, or two; to my rising horror, there was nary a trace of the mini feline god. It wasn't like me to lose track of my companion so easily, but it also wasn't the first time he'd darted off without telling me in advance. We'd come to an arrangement over the years where I tried to allow him as much freedom as I could, but we both knew I couldn't do my superhero gig properly if he was out of sight, and out of reach.
And, to be honest, I'd kind of been counting on the gentle assurance his presence in my jacket would have given me.
Searching the room one final time for my kwami, I sighed and faced up to the fact I would be doing this alone; I tried to regroup mentally and happened at that moment to pick up the scent of a Belgian chocolate croissant. Sniffing with what latent feline ability I had, I glanced down and saw a small plate beside the lectern, holding three of treats that Marinette typically handmade for me. Blinking, I was reasonably sure the plate hadn't been there a moment earlier; that didn't stop me from taking a moment to snarf down one – well, okay, maybe two – before starting.
I mean, chocolate. You just can't let those go to waste!
Pressing a few controls on the lectern I was standing behind, I started the video conferencing software and brought up the twin screens at the rear of the room. As I waited for the smug image of my cousin to appear on one, my father's glaring visage appeared nearly immediately on the other, his expression telegraphing how unhappy he was with life in general. It was an expression I knew well. In a rush of static, the first screen took a few moments to resolve into the blond-topped head of a near doppelgänger, right down to his dark suit and tie.
Figures.
Clearing my throat, I nodded to the screen. "Felix," I said evenly, trusting to the technology not to have to speak up to be heard.
"Adrien."
"Father. Members of the Board," I continued, gently intruding on their conversations. "Thank you for meeting with me today."
There were nods around the table, though to my amazement, nobody stopped eating.
Setting aside their sudden abandonment of Board Room decorum, I took the remote for the laptop and stood back and to the side as my presentation appeared on the large screen behind me. Steeling myself, I plunged ahead. "Our company has a long history of being family owned, and family run," I began, smiling as I nodded toward Father. "For decades, we've been a proud part of the Parisian fashion scene, and over the last few years have truly begun our run as a more global brand."
I clicked into the next screen. Marinette had recommended including a colorful graph that showed ever-higher profits, though on slow trajectory; it was meant to set up the next part of my talk, and we both thought the Board would go for the visual if I could sell it right. "Growth for our company has been very steady, too, with sales averaging in the top percentiles across the board in most consumer categories."
I clicked to another graph which showed a more significant rise in profits.
"While my Father has done an excellent job of growing our brand," I said, nodding to my scowling Father, "I am happy to report that over the past eighteen months, our efforts to broaden our appeal to other demographics has been a resounding success."
I paused for a moment before continuing. "I've not always seen eye-to-eye with Gabriel Agreste when it comes to the direction of our company," I continued, clicking to another graph that was more of a donut-shaped one, with one segment overly-large, "but his faith in me – and his encouragement to experiment with several of our product lines have hinted at where we can take this company over the next decade – and beyond."
I'm not sure what I was expecting, but the rapt attention I was getting from everyone in the room wasn't it. Glancing to the screens at the rear, Father seemed to have softened a bit, but Felix was as inscrutable as always. A sudden flash of an image with him wearing one of those insanely goofy akuma costumes appeared in my head, and I tried hard not to laugh out loud.
Yes, you would make one hell of a villain.
Punching the button on the remote, I shifted to the main thrust of my presentation. "As you know, my cousin, Felix Graham de Vanily, has conditionally called in the note that was provided to House of Gabriel-"
There was a sudden loud snapping noise, something akin to a rubber band being pulled beyond its limit and tearing into two; a moment later, the overhead lights went out, along with all of the technology in the room. I had a faint impression of surprise from Felix before his face vanished; Father, on the other hand, just winked out without so much as a raised eyebrow. Oddly, the Board members seemed to take it in stride, and turned back to the buffet. The windows overlooking Paris provided plenty of light to showcase the pile of goodies still available.
"I'll... see what's going on?" I said to no one in particular as I pushed out of the conference room.
My latent feline instincts had gone on high alert, exacerbated when I found the emergency lights were not on in the now pitch-black hallway. Pulling out my phone, I snapped on the flashlight, all the while wondering where Plagg had run off to – for my night vision would have truly been handy, had I been able to transform. I found my assistant, Tomas, standing at the outer door of my office, framed by the morning sunlight streaming through windows of my corner suite.
"I've already called Maintenance," he said to my unspoken question. "If you can believe it, they say the transformer in the basement is a pile of ash. It'll be hours before we'll have power back."
"Ash?" I said, leaning on all of my model tricks to look confused. For suddenly, I knew where my kwami had gone; in a flash of insight, I wondered if his efforts hadn't been aided and abetted by another.
"Yeah," Tomas frowned in the twilight. "The guy I spoke to had never seen anything like it."
"I'm… sure."
"And on the day of your big meeting!"
"These things happen," I said, knowing that they didn't – not without some help. "Keep me in the loop?"
"Will do."
I worked my way back to the conference room and found to my surprise the Board members were gathering their things. "I'm so sorry about this," I apologized, wondering if I should read into the fact that they weren't waiting for the power to return so I could conclude my remarks. "It does look like it will be a while. We probably should reschedule-"
"No need." Doris Goodkind, vice-chair of the board, smiled at me as she snagged a piece of pineapple from the fruit tree. "We've made our decision."
"You… what?" I asked, looking to the others and seeing gentle smiles on all of them. "I didn't make my pitch…!"
As the other members filed out, Doris put her hand on my arm. "You didn't have to, Adrien," she said kindly. "We've been looking for a reason to gently push your father out of day-to-day management. Numbers don't lie; the last few quarters have proved that your fresh ideas are the direction House of Gabriel needs to go. And," she smiled wider, "the way you've been managing our partnership with Chateau Le Blanc proves you've got the chops to run this company."
I stared at Doris. "But… Felix… the note?"
Doris took my hands in hers. "There is no note," she smiled. "At least, not anymore. Felix misjudged his strategy, for by calling the note in the way he did, House of Gabriel was obligated to only pay the remaining face value of the loan – not the loan plus interest."
"That's-really?"
"Yeah," Doris laughed. "It was a strange footnote to the agreement that his mother had insisted on." She shrugged. "Sales for the last quarter were more than enough to pay off the note and still have plenty left over for operations." She shook my hand. "Congratulations, Mister Chairman."
"Thank you," I said, a bit dazed.
"You've earned this," she smiled wider, "but I suspect your father won't see it that way."
I grinned slightly. "I'm sure I won't be invited to dinner any time soon."
"Likely not," she laughed. "Do take care."
I watched her go and then slumped into a chair, digesting what had just happened. Plagg took that moment to phase through the wall, acting all nonchalant; I looked up. "There you are."
"How did it go?" he asked as he floated toward the food. "You know how I detest meetings."
I grabbed him in mid-air. "Why?"
His eyes darted away from me as he tried to squirm out of my hands. "Why what?"
"You blew out the transformer," I stated. It wasn't lost on me that he'd not phased out of my grasp.
"I don't know what you mean," he replied, deliberately shifting his eyes from me.
I sighed and let him go, and then called out: "Tikki, you can come out now."
I waited a moment and then turned to see the tiny red kwami poke her head around the lectern. "How...?"
"The croissants," I replied. "I know I can be an oblivious feline at times, but the port for my laptop was on that side. They weren't there when I plugged in my USB stick."
"Oops..." Tikki laughed in her melodic tones.
"Is this all you?" I asked, waving to the room.
"Kind of," she replied as she floated to me. "I... might have used your phone to text in an order the Bakery while you were... occupied... last night," she explained. "Thankfully, they have your credit card on file."
I blinked. "That was... brilliant..."
"Never underestimate the value of sweets," Tikki laughed. "I knew it would make your board members more comfortable, and maybe more receptive to your message."
I looked to Plagg. "And what's your excuse?"
"I just wanted to piss off that-"
"Plagg," Tikki warned.
"—I mean, I assumed it would be easier to make your pitch if you didn't have to do it with your cousin or father watching."
"He was supposed to take out the Internet," Tikki chided. "Not the power to the building."
"Hey!" Plagg cried out. "It's not my fault that all of the technology in this century looks the same!"
Tikki rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I tagged along to make sure Plagg didn't take out anything important." She sighed. "For all the good it did."
Both kwami were so earnest, it was hard not to smile. "I see. And Ladybug has no idea you were doing this?"
Tikki looked uncomfortable. "No," she replied. "And I probably need to get back to her…"
"I'll run you to Ladybug," I said as I stood.
"That's not necessary," Tikki replied. "I can find my way back—"
"No, I'll do it," I smiled. "Since the meeting ended two hours early, I suddenly have an open calendar and nothing to fill it. Unless my fiancé is willing to go to lunch with me." I took Tikki into my hands and hugged her. "Thank you," I said as I released her, looking to Plagg. "Both of you."
Plagg's face softened slightly. "Anything for you, kiddo," he said fondly, before donning his curmudgeon mask. "Now, can we go already? I'm starving."
"Of course," I chuckled.
I let Tikki and Plagg huddle under my jacket as I made my way safely to the roof of House of Gabriel; transforming into Chat, I leapt to the edge overlooking the street below and perched. Tikki floated up to me. "I can carry you if that's easier," I offered, helpfully unzipping a pocket for her as my tail snapped merrily. "Though I can't vouch for how comfortable it will be."
"I don't mind flying, actually," she replied. "Unlike Plagg, I don't get out much-"
Her thought was quelled mid-sentence by an explosion off in the distance; cocking my feline ears slightly, I could pick up the telltale screaming, and frowned. So much for lunch, I thought. "Looks like duty calls," I said I pulled out my baton and speed-dialed Marinette.
Her worried expression appeared immediately. "Chat! Thank God you called! Tikki-"
"Is with me," I interrupted.
Marinette raised an eyebrow. "She's what!?"
"Long story," I said. "Suffice it to say I'm on my way to you. On top of everything else, I think we've got an akuma close to the Grand Palais."
Lowering her voice, I could tell she was already on the move based on how the picture shifted. "I'll meet you half-way," she replied. "And when we're done, I want the full story."
"Oh, you'll get it," I laughed, glancing at Tikki. "I purromise."
