He turns out to be a very pleasant man

The hotel bar was located on the top floor of the large building and as Jessica stepped out of the elevator, she couldn’t help but grimace slightly at the décor. Similar to the lobby, the room was large and modern, but it lacked a lot of the charisma that made a good bar comfortable. Instead, it was polished steel and smooth glass all around, giving an undeniably fancy yet sterile vibe

Half of the room was taken up by large windows that allowed the visitors to take in the old city below and the wildly dancing snowflakes outside as they sipped their drinks in the black leather seating groups. The bar ran along the entire length of the far side, lined with bottles of all colors and sizes, which were proudly displayed by bright lights.

Jessica was hardly surprised to find that even the gorgeous view of the nighttime city had attracted few patrons, given that there surely were a lot more appealing locations within a five-minute walk. In fact, it appeared that the guests barely outnumbered the bar staff, with only two of the seating groups occupied. Quickly deciding that neither of the two middle-aged Asian women were likely to be named ‘Pierre Gane’, Jessica turned her attention to the pair of armchairs in the far corner of the room. Her brow furrowed in surprise when she saw a man, sitting in one of the chairs. From Mark’s information, she had expected an attractive man in his forties at the oldest, still possessing the stamina of youth that a party animal required. She had envisioned a handsome man who’d hit on her for the duration of their time together, making the entire affair a rather exhausting prospect.

Instead, Pierre Gane appeared to be in his late fifties at least, and from Jessica’s initial assessment, the man, while not hideous, did by no means qualify as attractive either. Even seated, she could tell he wasn’t of impressive stature. At most an inch or two taller than her, he wasn’t fat and his shoulders and arms looked quite thick and powerful, but he was carrying the small gut a lot of men his age sported. His hair was all but gone, and he had shaved the rest off, though if his exposed forearms were any indication, his head was the only bald part of his body. He wore a fine, Italian suit, consisting of a white shirt and blue blazer and pants and was currently engaged in a conversation with a young blonde waitress. As he spoke, Jessica got an idea where Pierre’s reputation came from as the Frenchman had a charming smile and seemed to captivate the woman with a little story. The cute laugh she gave seemed absolutely genuine, almost flirtatious…

As Jessica approached, the man looked up and spotted her, a grin of recognition spreading across his face. He said something to the waitress who smiled warmly and nodded, then quickly retreated just as Jessica arrived.

“Mr. Gane?” she gave him her best actress-smile as she stood before him. Despite Mark’s high promise of how charming he was, she had entered the bar fully expecting to endure rather than enjoy the evening. Yet the man’s grin seemed honest, almost infectious.

“Please, Jessica,” he gestured towards the free seat next to him, “Call me Pierre!”

She could make out the French accent in his voice, though it was charmingly subtle. She took the offered seat, and put her bags down on the floor next to her before crossing her legs neatly. It didn’t escape her that Pierre’s eyes flitted downwards. Leaning onto the armrest, she took on an engaged stance, knowing full well that the professional pose also pronounced the curve of her hip and granted an enticing view of her cleavage. The shift in Pierre’s face was faint, but noticeable. She wasn’t surprised, her charms were potent and the man had asked to meet with her. For as annoying as it was that Mark had put this assignment on her plate, it was also extremely easy. She gave Mark a smile. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long!”

“Oh, not at all! I know you are a busy woman!” The wink he gave her was quite disarming and he nodded towards the large Canon reflex camera on the table next to him, “I killed the time admiring this great old city. Getting a few pictures was very inspiring. It’s fantastic that you could fit me into your schedule. I am quite the fan!”

“That’s very kind! We at Honest are also big fans of yours!” She smiled, her tone the perfect balance of professionalism and warmth, while not being flirty. She wasn’t that kind of woman. Never had been and wouldn’t stoop so low now.

“Oh, please, Jessica, don’t do this to me! I was hoping we could not talk business tonight?! I was looking forward to a relaxing evening…”

She smiled, lifting her hands in a gesture of compliance. “A relaxing evening sounds perfect, Pierre. Though if we won’t talk business, what would you like to do?”

“Well, for starters I would love to have a drink with you,” he sat up as the blonde waitress returned, carrying a silver tray with a bottle of crystal-clear liquid and two frosty glasses on it. She gently set the tray it down on the table between them, then, after a warm smile to Pierre, left them alone.

“Tequila?!” Jessica cocked an eyebrow, though she couldn’t help but smirk in amusement, “I have an early flight tomorrow, Pierre…”

“Oh, but lucky for me you are trying to impress me!” Pierre grinned as he cracked the bottle open, swiftly filling the two glasses, then offering her one. “Besides, this one’s quite lovely! I couldn’t let you miss out…”

She smiled and frowned at the same time, briefly diverting her gaze to watch a sudden torrent of dancing snowflakes swirl past the big window. Predictably, this wasn’t going to be handled with a brief, fifteen-minute conversation. She would have to invest time and effort, all for the good of her company.

At least, it seemed like Pierre indeed wasn’t going to bore her. Once again, she beamed her big Hollywood-star smile at the French businessman and took the presented glass from his fingers.

“Well, to a lovely evening then…” she toasted.

„Je vais te péter la rondelle, ma salope!” Pierre clinked his glass against hers, looking deep into her eyes with an intensity that almost made her blush.

“That sounds nice!” she complimented, enjoying the elegant tones of Pierre’s French while not understanding his meaning. She downed the glass in one go and pulled a face as the cold liquid burned her throat, immediately filling her belly with a fire. As soon as she set the glass down on the table, Pierre filled it again and pushed it back towards her.

She giggled. “Pierre, are you trying to get me drunk?!”

The mock-wounded look on his face drew a laugh from her. “Jessica, I would never!” he declared dramatically. “The first one always burns, so you can only appreciate a good Tequila on the second one. Besides, if you allow me the observation, you seem like you’ve had a long day. I’d recommend at least one more drink to take the edge off…”

“Ugh, Pierre you have no idea…” she groaned and gave him her honest smile, not the professional one. It felt good to have her stress acknowledged. Almost automatically her fingers picked up the glass. Closing her eyes, she dropped her head back. “I feel like lately I am always just running from one appointment to the next. And once I’ve finished my days, someone pops up with another brilliant idea about something I should squeeze into my schedule…”

Realizing that if she continued like this she would begin to a rant, she quickly stopped herself. She felt slightly embarrassed about the slip-up. She was here to make Pierre feel like her company was the place to be, not to whine about her tough Hollywood-life. However, when she glanced at him, she saw he was smiling at her sympathetically. “Tell me about it, Jessica!”

She bit her lip, giving him a hesitant look. “You don’t want to hear about my stressful day…”

“Maybe I do!” He lifted his own refilled glass to his lips and threw it back, barely flinching at the strong ****. “If it helps you relax and make this evening fun for us…”

She pondered his words, trying to gauge her new drinking partner while sipping her tequila. He was right, the second glass burned far less and she could appreciate the finer nuances of the exquisite spirit far more, truly enjoying it. Feeling the warming sensation in her stomach, she made her decision. “Fine!” she nodded, figuring that this way she’d definitely get something out of the evening, even if it was only to vent her frustrations to a good listener. “But stop me if I get too whiny!”

He didn’t stop her. In fact, Jessica couldn’t help but feel impressed with how good a listener he was as she spilled out all the frustrations, doubts, and troubles that had amassed recently in her turbulent life. Starting with her business ventures, she found herself quickly diverging into her personal opinions as he nodded and listened, his attentive reactions gradually coercing her to open up even more. Soon, her private life, husband and kids were laid out to him as Jessica topped off her own glass with tequila, talking herself into a frenzy. When she finally stopped, twenty minutes later, she couldn’t help but feel exhausted, yet relieved.

“Damn…” Pierre muttered after a few heavy seconds of silence when she was done, both of them laughing, “I knew your life had to be busy, Jessica, but you really have a lot on your plate.”

The acknowledgement of her stressful life was music to her ears and she couldn’t help but feel incredibly grateful. “And tomorrow I’ll catch my plane before the sun even rises and the whole hamster wheel starts anew…”