Marinette nervously stared at the front steps before looking at the address she had in her hand. Somehow, when Adrien had said house, she had forgotten that it was such a towering building. In the back of her mind she knew that she should have reasonably expected this, especially knowing what part of the city it was in, having been here before as well. Still, the amount of money required to own an estate in Paris was incomprehensible to Marinette. If she lived in a house like this, there would be no need to work at a fabric store to bring her designs to life.
She peered at the building and even the trees with renewed curiousity. Deciding not to question the manor, she hastened towards the front gate. If she gave herself a chance to back out now, she would definitely take it. And the thought of becoming one of Agreste Modeling's mainstays was too big not to be seen through. It might go nowhere, but she had a chance only if she didn't go anywhere else.
She looked at the doorbell with a bittersweet smile on her face. It had been such a shame that Adrien didn't recognize the present as a gift from her, but the happiness on his face had made up for it. In the end, it had served its intended purpose. Marinette could have done with a little bit of credit. She pressed the button, calmly explaining, "This is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, here for a ten o'clock appointment."
When the gate opened without incident, she mentally patted herself on the back. It had only taken an hour of rehearsal last night for Marinette to prepare a few lines in case she was asked to interact with Adrien, or anyone around him. It wouldn't do to make a bad impression because she was a stuttering mess. With far more calm than she felt, Marinette strode into the building. A woman, smartly dressed in a pantsuit and thin wire frames, stood in the foyer. Her dark clothing set her apart from the white, light-filled backdrop. Marinette's eyes were drawn to a massive portrait of father and son. She would readily admit that Adrien looked great in it, but something was missing in his eyes. Despite the pose of familiarity, the artist had not managed to capture the spark in the boy's eyes. Or perhaps it was simply that one cannot record what is not present?
"Ms. Marinette? This way, please," she beckoned, voice betraying no emotion. Slightly startled by the abrupt welcome, Marinette complied, ascending the stairway. She followed the woman until they reached a rather more comfortable looking lounge. Marinette was startled by how crisply clean it was- as if no one lived there at all. The stark white cleanliness of the building began to assault her senses, an illusion of perfection that was almost hostile. Slightly awkwardly, Marinette made to sit down, but was unsure if she was even allowed to sit on the creaseless sofa. The decision was made for her as three others entered the room.
"Adrien," she greeted softly, his name falling from her lips before she could become embarrassed about it. She recognized Vincent from the photoshoot in the park, and assumed that the stout and slightly balding man accompanying them was the agent that she had been promised a conversation with. "Gentleman," she added belatedly, grateful that her anxious preparation now led to practiced lines instead of flustered blustering.
Adrien seemed to sense her indecisiveness as she contemplated sitting down.
"Please, take a seat," he gestured to the small group. Marinette gave him a grateful half-smile as she settled on the white sofa. It felt overly stiff and firm. Perhaps it truly was rarely used.
"Of course, you know Vincent," Adrien continued, "but I'd like to introduce you to my agent, Mr. Hershfield."
"It's nice to meet you," Marinette murmured, unsure of quite what to say.
"Likewise, madam. Now that we've gotten the pleasantries out of the way, let's move on to business. Time is money, as they say. First order of business-"
"- we'd like to formally extend an offer of employment from Agreste Modeling," Adrien smoothly cut in, eyes dancing. "Apparently people really liked the results of the photoshoot, but most importantly Vincent like the results of the photoshoot."
The photographer smiled. "You have much potential, miss. It'd be a shame for that to go to waste."
Marinette smiled, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. Everything was unfolding so quickly, and her frazzled mind could hardly keep up.
"Unfortunately, the elder Mr. Argeste was unable to see you at the moment. However, he too did agree to this arrangement," Mr. Hershfield continued. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to get the paperwork out of the way now, and set about arranging a contract."
Panic bloomed in Marinette's chest, and she exhaled heavily, orienting herself towards Adrien. Surely he was her ally here? It certainly felt that no one else was, from the cooly cordial assistant to the money-minded agent. Even the house itself set her hairs on end.
"Uh," Marinette attempted to collect her thoughts, "that would be… that would be amenable. I would like to have a chance to, um, go over the detail with my, my parents before I sign?" Her answer came out far too much like a question for Marinette's liking, but she consoled herself that at least she got an answer out. It was a lot to take in, even with a little bit of forward warning from Adrien. The note hadn't allowed her to prepare for this.
"Why, of course! I couldn't ask a minor to make such a decision without their parent's consent, that would be downright…" the agent continued, but Marinette found herself unable to truly pay attention to his words. He transitioned into a mixture of acronyms and legal jargon and she became completely lost, trying her best to nod at the right times to create the illusion of comprehension. Scared and confused, she turned her gaze to Adrien.
The warmth in his eyes, she thought, must be the only warmth in this house.