Boxed Set: A Possessive Billionaire - Vol. 1-3: His, Body and Soul

Olivia Dean

I watch how the passengers change as the subway stations go by. The tourists got off a little while ago, and now I'm alone with the natives. Several stations ago, the suits and tailored skirts replaced the sweatshirts. A far cry from the bohemian Paris I dreamed of when I started studying. But oh well, I’ve been lucky enough to have my thesis accepted and even luckier to have found a place to live, I’m not going to complain if it’s in a ritzy neighborhood.

Monceau: this is where I get off. Wow! It’s fancy. Extremely glitzy. Lots of tall, bicentenary buildings with huge doors. Here’s the park and the avenue with the same name…This is the one! I ring the bell that says “Loge” for the building caretaker, who responds immediately.

“Hi, I’m Emma Maugham, I have an appointment with…” She doesn’t let me finish. The massive door opens with an ominous creak and I meet her in the marble foyer. She's wearing a meticulously tailored skirt suit, she almost looks like an English governess. Good lord, is everyone in this neighborhood dressed to the nines? She walks me to the elevator.

“It’s on the 5th floor. Generally, whoever lives in your room uses the service elevator, but it will be out of order until the construction work is finished. Mr. Delmonte has agreed to share the elevator with you.” What a nice guy, this Delmonte.

I haven’t seen my cousin in years, I wonder what she looks like now. She’s waiting for me in front of the staircase, and she too is dressed like she’s going to a formal garden party. She leads me into the room and sits me down for a steaming cup of tea. It’s small, but nicely arranged and tastefully decorated. There’s a tiny bed, a desk in front of the window and a kitchenette. Behind a door, there’s a small bathroom with a toilet, shower and sink. It’s like a dollhouse, but my cousin explains that it’s rather luxurious for this part of town. Not every ‘garret apartment’, as it’s called, has these kind of amenities. Usually, the bathroom is in the corridor. As for the shower…I think I’m going to like living here. At any rate, I don’t really need a whole lot. A bed and a desk are more than enough for the monastic existence I’ve dreamed of experiencing this year.

If there’s one thing about Lexie that hasn’t changed, it’s how much she talks! Before long, I know everything about her life: how she arrived penniless, how she pieced together a living from odd jobs until she found this job as an employee of Mr. Delmonte’s house. She says ‘Mister Delmonte’ with veneration in her voice, I didn’t know she could be so formal. And then of course, how she met her boyfriend and how they’re getting married soon, moving into a little house in the suburbs…it takes an enormous amount of energy for me to not explode. How could such a smart girl decide to stop working just to go shack up with a man?

It’s not that she had an exceptionally exciting job, but a job is still a job, especially in 2012! Not only does the logic escape me, but it also really annoys me. I think of the last thing my father told me in the Lansing airport: “When you see Lexie, make sure you don’t say anything rash! Whatever you think, keep it to yourself!” So when she tells me all the details of her magnificent love story, I smile idiotically. No matter what it’s all about, this story is the reason why I'm so lucky during this hectic time at the beginning of the school year. That and the generosity of this famous Delmonte, who's agreed to let me take my cousin’s room while I get my bearings in Paris. Mr. Delmonte. She’s been talking about him for two hours and I’m already annoyed by this person. Apparently he's filthy rich. He owns the building and only lives here every once in a while. I imagine him to be a tyrant in silk pajamas. Sexagenarian, I would say. Lexie doesn’t know what he does for a living. Does he have a specific kind of job? Is he retired? She says he’s single, probably an old bachelor, at that. Perfect, he’s not going to distract me from my studies…

Lexie finally stops talking. I figure I’ve heard all there is to know. I decide to go explore the neighborhood while she finishes packing up her stuff. I’ll save the park for the weekend. Right now, all I want to do is find something to eat later tonight. I walk: I’ve been looking forward to walking around since I arrived in France. No more driving for the smallest errands. I’ll go for a stroll and buy my baguette in my neighborhood…But I soon get the impression that it doesn’t work that way in Monceau.

I’ve been walking around for fifteen minutes and the only stores I've seen are a florist and an antique seller. Plus loads of doctors, psychologists and private clinics. It seems like the only thing you can do around my new home is get a Botox injection. So these people don’t eat? When I get back home, I find myself looking hungrily at an apricot poodle.

Luckily Lexie was thinking ahead, she left me some food as well as a little map showing where the closest stores are. She drew a dollar sign and a skull and crossbones over a few of them. I get the message.

“Don’t be shy – if you need me, call me.”

“Don’t worry…”

“And don’t forget to introduce yourself to Mr. Delmonte. And make sure to thank him…”

“Of course…but why don’t you introduce me to him? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“He’s out of town. When he gets back, I’ll probably be on my honeymoon. Don’t forget, okay? I don’t want him to think my cousin doesn’t have any manners.”

“Of course not! I wouldn’t do something like that!”

“Oh, Emma!” she scolds me, kindly. “One last thing. You probably should pay more attention to your clothes…”

She looks me up and down, like the governess did earlier. But my outfit couldn’t be any more ordinary. For a student who’s moving, I mean. Jeans, Converse sneakers, college sweatshirt…well maybe French students move into their new apartments wearing Chanel. Go figure…I get the feeling that I’m going to have plenty of surprises over the next few days!