The early afternoon sunlight streamed through the wide windows of Savoir, casting a golden glow on the sleek, minimalist furniture. Emily Cooper sat at her desk, typing furiously on her laptop while trying to ignore Julien, who was making loud comments about an upcoming client meeting.

"Julien, can you maybe—just maybe—keep it down for like, five minutes?" Emily asked, looking up from her screen with a tight smile.

Julien raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Oh, forgive me, mademoiselle. I didn't realize my very existence was distracting you."

"Your existence isn't distracting me," Emily shot back. "Your commentary is."

Sylvie's voice cut through the office like a whip. "Enough! I don't have time to babysit today."

Emily straightened in her chair, silently grateful for Sylvie's intervention. Sylvie, as usual, exuded effortless authority in her tailored navy blazer and towering stilettos. She looked at Emily for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing.

"Emily," Sylvie said, "you're meeting Jessica Davis at two o'clock, yes?"

Emily froze. "Wait, what?"

Sylvie rolled her eyes. "Jessica Davis. The client I explicitly told you to work with. Don't tell me you forgot."

Emily's stomach sank. "No, I didn't forget! I just—wait. She's coming here?"

"Yes," Sylvie said, crossing her arms. "And she's one of our most important clients. I expect you to behave."

Emily's jaw clenched. She hadn't seen Jessica since their heated exchange at the Paris Fashion Show, and the idea of working with her again felt like a punishment. But before Emily could protest, the office door swung open.

"Speak of the devil," Julien muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Sylvie.

Jessica Davis strode into the office with all the confidence of someone who knew they didn't belong there but didn't care. She was dressed in a sleek black jumpsuit and oversized sunglasses, her dark hair pulled into a ponytail that swished as she walked. Emily immediately felt her blood pressure spike.

"Jessica," Sylvie said, her tone cool but professional. "Welcome to Savoir. I trust your trip here was uneventful."

Jessica smirked, taking off her sunglasses. "Oh, you know. Just the usual—dodging tourists and overpriced cappuccinos."

Sylvie ignored the remark, gesturing toward Emily. "Emily will be handling your account. She's one of our best."

Jessica's smirk widened as she looked at Emily. "Oh, I know all about Emily."

Emily forced a tight smile. "And I know all about you."

Jessica leaned against the nearest desk, clearly enjoying herself. "This should be fun."

The meeting was, predictably, a disaster. Jessica questioned every idea Emily pitched, from social media campaigns to event concepts. Every time Emily suggested something, Jessica had a snide comment ready.

"That sounds…basic," Jessica said at one point, twirling a pen between her fingers. "Don't you have anything original?"

Emily clenched her fists under the table, her nails digging into her palms. "Well, originality is subjective. And unlike you, I actually understand what works in Paris."

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? Because this all feels very Pinterest mom vibes."

Julien coughed to hide a laugh, and Emily shot him a murderous glare.

Sylvie, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "Jessica, while I appreciate your feedback, I suggest we keep this professional."

"Of course," Jessica said sweetly. "I'm just trying to help Emily do her job."

Emily couldn't hold back any longer. She leaned forward, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Thank you, Jessica. It's so nice of you to give advice when your own career consists of…what exactly? Oh, that's right—being a motivational speaker for high school drama clubs."

Jessica's eyes flashed. "And your career consists of pretending you're Carrie Bradshaw in Paris."

The room went silent. Julien and Luc exchanged amused glances, while Sylvie pinched the bridge of her nose, clearly regretting her life choices.

Emily took a deep breath. "At least I don't look like a—"

She stopped herself, but Jessica's smirk dared her to continue.

"A what?" Jessica said, her voice dangerously low.

Emily stood, unable to stop herself. "A stripper."

The word hung in the air like a thunderclap. Jessica's smirk vanished, replaced by a glare so icy it could have frozen the Seine.

Sylvie shot to her feet. "Emily! That is enough!"

Jessica stood too, her voice shaking with barely contained rage. "A stripper? Really? That's the best you've got?"

Emily realized too late that she'd crossed a line, but her pride wouldn't let her back down. "Well, if the jumpsuit fits—"

"Out," Sylvie barked, pointing toward the door.

Emily blinked. "What?"

"Out," Sylvie repeated. "Now. My office. Immediately."

Emily hesitated, her face burning with embarrassment, before storming out of the room. She could hear Jessica muttering something under her breath, but she didn't dare look back.

In Sylvie's office, Emily paced nervously while Sylvie stared at her, arms crossed and lips pursed.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Sylvie said finally.

"She started it!" Emily protested. "She's impossible, Sylvie. She undermines everything I say, and she's so—"

"I don't care," Sylvie snapped. "You called a client a stripper, Emily. A client. Do you understand how unprofessional that is?"

Emily opened her mouth, then closed it, realizing there was no defense for her behavior.

Sylvie sighed, rubbing her temples. "You're lucky Jessica didn't storm out. If she had, I would have fired you on the spot."

Emily's stomach dropped. "I—I'm sorry, Sylvie. It won't happen again."

Sylvie gave her a long, hard look. "You're going to fix this, Emily. You're going to apologize to Jessica, and you're going to do it sincerely. Am I clear?"

Emily nodded reluctantly. "Crystal."

Later that afternoon, Emily found Jessica sitting in the office lounge, scrolling through her phone. She approached cautiously, clearing her throat.

Jessica looked up, her expression neutral. "Here to call me something else?"

"No," Emily said quickly. "I just…I wanted to apologize. What I said earlier was out of line."

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "You think?"

Emily bit her lip. "Look, I don't like you, and I don't think you like me. But we have to work together, so can we at least try to be civil?"

Jessica studied her for a moment, then shrugged. "Fine. But for the record, Emily? You'd make a terrible motivational speaker."

Emily couldn't help but laugh, despite herself. "And you'd make a terrible social media influencer."

Jessica smirked. "Truce?"

"Truce," Emily said, extending her hand.

Jessica shook it, and for the first time, Emily felt like they might actually survive working together.

Back in her office, Sylvie watched the exchange from the window and shook her head. "Americans," she muttered, pouring herself a glass of wine. "Always so dramatic."