Marinette was tired. Very, very tired. She'd been too anxious to sleep the previous night and now she was regretting it – even more so in the early hours of the morning as she attempted to cover up the black circles under her eyes. She didn't know whether it was excitement of finally being trusted, or fear of messing up.

She tried to keep her eyes open, the challenge sending her blurry-eyed as she typed notes for Mary as she spoke at speed, she didn't know it was possible for a human to talk this fast. They were currently in First Class on a train direct to London Euston, where Gabriel Agreste's personal driver would be waiting for them, taking them to the hotel before continuing to the main offices on the Strand.

It had been four years since Gabriel Agreste had moved his headquarters to London; four years since Paris had mourned the loss of the great designer as he and his son left to head to the United Kingdom.

There had been many rumours about the reason why they suddenly left, the eeriest being about his son finding his mother's body in the basement, and his father being a murderer. Obviously, nothing came from it, but the stories kept running for years. Their lycée constantly spread spooky stories of the Agreste Manor, with only Chloé Bourgeois to defend the unseen son. Some people were beginning to think Adrien was a robot, or Chloé's imaginary friend. Apart from the numerous shoots for magazines and tv interviews, no one ever saw or heard from Adrien Agreste. He was nothing more than a name and a smoulder...which she enjoyed looking at a little too much.

Mary rattled on. "Now listen to me, Marianne, we don't show weakness. Gabriel Agreste seems to have it in his little pea brain that we aren't pulling our weight. We need to go in there and show him exactly how amazing I am. He gets a hint that we are wobbly and he'll think we aren't worth collaborating with. Lillie has always been exceptional at showing the strength in the company and winning the clients over, so I expect you to do the same."

Marinette nodded, deciding to ignore the fact her boss of two years was still calling her Marianne. At least it wasn't Marty or Mert anymore. In Mary's eyes, she was probably in the wrong for having the wrong name anyway, and she was sure Mary would just tell her Marianne suited her more so she needed to change it.

"Who will be in the meeting? Just so I can make sure I have all the names correct."

Mary looked up from where she was typing frantically on her phone, her eyebrows attempting to lift through her fresh layer of Botox. "Are you that incompetent? We're going for a collaboration meeting at Gabriel...in London... Who do you think will be in the meeting? Versace?"

Considering Versace had been dead for over 20 years, Marinette was quite sure her boss was not impressed by her question and was being slightly sarcastic. Marinette knew they were meeting with Gabriel Agreste; she wasn't an idiot. But she was also sure, like Mary, a personal assistant or someone would be there too. There was no chance Gabriel would attend the meeting alone.

"I - I -" The hard glare thrown her way made Marinette swallow down any other questions. "Sorry."

Mary looked at her before rolling her eyes and placing her concentration back down onto her phone, obviously messaging one of her many male companions. She was always dating someone new, or 'deciding' between three different guys who would suit her the best, only to ditch all three and get a new one.

Mary was only slightly older than her – two years older to be exact – yet the aura around her really did give her the essence of someone who had been working in the fashion industry for years. Apparently, she'd started out as a model before opening her own design business. That being said, Marinette had never seen the woman design anything in all her years there. It either came from Lillie, one of the other designers, or a collaboration.

She was a stunning woman, short black hair and hard lines – rather similar to Victoria Beckham in her Posh Spice days. Marinette couldn't help but feel like a troll next to her, but her attitude and personality were enough to make the most self-assured of people question all of their life decisions. Even on the days she channelled her inner Ladybug prowess, she was defeated in the matter of seconds.

Marinette couldn't help but wonder how Chat Noir would deal with her. He was always so self-confident and self-assured, she was sure her partner would have quite a bit to say about her boss, and just the thought made her smile.

"If you've got gas, you might want to use the toilet before we get in the car. I'm not dealing with that." Mary's careless words were drowned out by the sudden announcement over the tannoy, letting them know their destination was near.

Thank God! It had been a journey from hell! Luckily, her boss had wanted to visit a couple of boutiques and, by the sounds of it, do some schmoozing before coming back to Paris, giving them a one-night stay in England's capital — and at a 5-star hotel, all expenses paid. Marinette couldn't wait to hit that bed.

"Come!" Mary demanded, throwing her bags at Marinette and indicating for her to grab the suitcase above their heads.

Marinette had managed to shove an additional outfit, plus all her toiletries and snacks...lots of snacks...in her rucksack, keeping her arms free for all of Mary's 'essentials'. How anyone needed that much for one night was beyond her!

Slipping her arms into her rucksack straps (and accidentally slapping the old woman getting up behind her), she scurried to collect Mary's bags and follow her out onto the platform — for a woman in high heels, she moved effortlessly. Marinette, however, did not. Looking more like Quasimodo than a fashion phenomenon's personal assistant, Marinette hobbled her way behind her boss as Mary sauntered across the train station like a model on the Victoria Secret catwalk.

They made their way out of Euston Station and through the crowds to reach the drop-off point, a black town car sat waiting in a bay, with a big burly man standing outside the door...one which looked oddly familiar.

He grunted a welcome as he took the bags out of Marinette's hands, and reached for the one on her back. He pulled it with a little more force than needed, sending her spinning around and landing on the floor mere millimetres from a huge, muddy puddle.

He grunted again, offering a hand out, which she gladly took, grateful that she wasn't going to have to try and stand herself.

"T-thank you!" Marinette said, regaining her balance and trying hard not to look as embarrassed as she felt.

He grunted again in a way which Marinette thought to mean 'you're welcome'.

Where had she seen him before?

A cough interrupted her thoughts, Mary standing at the door with a less than happy look on her face. She coughed again.

"Do you need cough sweets? Or a drink? I have water in my –" Marinette jumped to her boss' aid, hobbling in the direction of the trunk with the interest of searching in her bag.

The big guy made his way back to the door, opening it up for Mary and allowing her to slide in. This time Marinette couldn't control the embarrassment — her cheeks suddenly creating their very own heat source.

"Oh!" she announced. Mary wanted her door opened, not a cough sweet.

Note to self: a cough doesn't always equate to an illness or choking! She was tempted to write that on her tablet notes, along with 'don't randomly smile, Mary will think you have gas.'

She followed in behind her boss, just getting her second leg in as the driver slammed the door behind them.

"So, Marianne. I expect you to present yourself accordingly. Use the correct language, act above them and make sure you don't mess this up. This collaboration will put us as Paris' number one company and finally show that Gabriel needs us."

Marinette nodded. She could act like a bitch. It was one day, at one meeting where the bosses of both companies were complete assholes by the sounds of it — she knew hers was, at least.

Mary looked back at her phone, ignoring Marinette and continuing her text-a-thon. Maybe she was writing a novel on there?

The traffic around London was terrible. Marinette was quite sure it would have been so much quicker to either catch 'The Tube' or walk...but nope, Mary had to be driven from A-Z because apparently she'd been on 'The Tube' once and subsequently smelled like piss for a week. She'd obviously never been on the Metro.

Twenty minutes later, they had made it the two-mile journey to Trafalgar Square. She'd seen London many times throughout her life, but seeing Nelson's Column and being so close to Buckingham Palace always gave her a want to go full tourist, hop on a tour bus, or see a show — bucket list items she'd probably never complete.

They continued through Leicester Square and towards Covent Garden, finally pulling up outside St Martins Lane Hotel. It didn't look much from the outside, but it had rave reviews on TripAdvisor – she may have checked it an inappropriate amount of times since the call last night.

The driver climbed out of the car and made his way to the trunk, Marinette reaching for the door handle only for Mary to stop her.

"He'll drop our bags off and take us straight to the Gabriel office. You can check us in online once we're in the office."

A grunt signalled their chauffeur was back in the car. The door slammed shut and they were off again...only to get stuck ten feet from the hotel's door. She really thought it would be easier to walk.

A few feet further and he stopped again, this time getting out of the car and opening the door for them both to slide out. That really was barely worth the drive.

Mary finally placed her phone into her bag before looking at Marinette, her eyes burning with warning. "Do not cause me any problems. Do you hear me? One mistake and you'll be out of a job."

Gulping, Marinette followed her boss out of the back, grasping hold of her tablet suddenly being slammed into her chest. The evil glare of her boss morphed back into the angelic look, one which Marinette believed she used to continuously get her own way.

Mary walked forward, a model sashay of her hips as Marinette stumbled on her heels behind her. Where Mary had ignored their driver, Marinette turned to give him a quick thank you before following into the building.

The place was buzzing with activity – all of it coming to a halt as Mary entered the lobby. Obviously, her reputation preceded her.

"Miss Humphries." The sudden appearance of a woman with a red streak in her hair almost made Marinette drop the tablet. She seemed to have come out of the shadows, providing the most perfect jump scare.

"Ms. Sancoeur, how lovely to see you again. It's a shame you won't be in the Paris office to allow us to work together." Mary stepped forward and exchanged 'la bise' with the personal assistant.

So, this was the famed Nathalie Sancoeur? She was even colder than Marinette had imagined, the pimples making themselves known on her arms agreeing.

"It is, though I can promise you now, the Paris office will be in good hands whilst we look for my replacement." Nathalie's voice was monotone and Marinette was almost certain the woman had never smiled a day in her life. Either that or her Botox was extremely good.

"I'm sure," Mary said, almost sarcastically. "Shall we get to it?"

Nathalie nodded, leading them up a couple of flights of stairs and into another corridor of activity. This was a bigger area, people sitting at desks with two rooms off to the sides, one labelled as Gabriel's personal office, the other the boardroom.

Nathalie opened the door for them to enter first, only for Mary to stop Marinette with a hand on her chest. "I'm parched. Go and get me my usual."

Turning from her without another word, Mary went into the boardroom, followed by Nathalie, the door slamming well and truly closed in Marinette's face.

Great!

The room around her had gone quiet. Marinette turned to notice everyone staring at her wondering what she would do next. There was only one option. Puffing her chest out and straightening her shoulders, she forced the most uninterested glare she could and skimmed over the room. Bitch mode: activated.

"What are you looking at?" she said.

With the way everyone suddenly started typing again, Marinette couldn't help the feeling of pride. She'd done it, she'd actually done it. Now she just had to find an assistant. That shouldn't be too hard.

Marinette glanced around the room, feeling like she had underestimated the job at hand.

Everyone was dressed beautifully, top fashion styles, which were most likely Gabriel's designs. He seemed like the kind of stuck-up ass who would make everyone wear his and his alone.

She continued scanning the area until the door opposite opened and a man in a suit fumbled out, arms full of folders and an expression on his face which told her he shouldn't be here. The suit was no doubt expensive, but one thing she knew for sure, that wasn't a Gabriel. From the stitching on the seams and the slight curve of the waist, it was more likely a tailored one from Savile Row, or something with a little more pzazz like Hugo Boss.

She watched, amused, as he almost dropped the files, dumping them on the desk outside the office with a hearty thud, before seating himself in the chair behind the desk. He pulled a pair of thick black glasses from his pocket, positioning them on his face as he pulled paper after paper from the pile. There was no doubt about it - this guy wasn't a designer, and without a doubt the person she was looking for.

Keeping the ambience of power, she tilted her nose upwards and sauntered her way over to the man sitting outside Gabriel Agreste's room. "You know, you should make yourself easier to find. Especially when there are important meetings going on in your building."

The guy looked up and she almost lost her balance at how vibrant and green his eyes were. She was sure they could pass as traffic signals. Green means go!

Pulling herself together, she shook her shoulders and stuck her non-existent chest out a little further. Sometimes she wished her butt was at the front. That was the one asset which always did the deed for her.

She flicked her hair to one side before placing her hands on the desk in front of the man, bending forward to accentuate herself a little more. He was a male - this had to work, right? She'd seen Lillie do it in the cafeteria a number of times in the past with great success – that woman had more free pastries than she did, and her parents owned a bakery.

"Now be a good boy and get Mary Humphries her coffee. Skinny latte, no foam, three brown sugars and a tiny amount of caramel syrup. Think you can do that for me, Hot Stuff?"

Reaching forward, Marinette stroked down his tie, straightening it from where it had gone slightly askew. He looked dazed, and she was glad she'd had an effect on him because there was one more thing.

She leaned forward, her lips hovering close to his ear, and went in for the kill. "I'll be waiting, stud."

She turned, closing her eyes to take a quick and steady breath. God, he smelt good.

Gathering her confidence once again, she strutted back towards the boardroom. Quiet chatter began around the office, all eyes seemingly focused on her as she attempted to saunter her way across the room, amazed she'd only tripped up once.

A quick brush over her skirt was followed by a shake of her hair, as she made her way into the boardroom. Gabriel and Mary stopped their conversation almost immediately as she walked in. She kept her chin high, making her way to a spare seat beside Mary and turning on the tablet.

The office was monotone, all blacks, whites and silvers, Gabriel almost blending into the backdrop with his hair and attire. The large table, Marinette was currently sitting at, must be able to seat 30 plus associates, with a large screen at the front and huge floor to ceiling windows on both sides. She couldn't remember seeing into the office as she walked towards it which must mean it was one way glass – the pros of being a multi million pound business she guessed.

Mary rolled her eyes before continuing her conversation with Gabriel. "When will this new consultant be joining us? I haven't got all day."

As if by magic, a knock came on the door answering Mary's question. Her boss stretched forward, grabbing a biscuit from the plate which had been positioned at the centre of the table.

"Come in," Gabriel ordered, only for the PA to enter holding Mary's coffee. Four minutes. That was impressive. She'd have to make sure she put in a good word for him.

"It's about time," Marinette said, watching as the cup was placed down in front of Mary. She turned back to the tablet and began to type, keeping her face straight. "I was thinking you'd gotten lost or something."

Her fingers continued to work at speed on the keyboard, the clacking of her nails on the screen the only sound echoing in the vast room. There were no conversations going on, just the sound of tap, tap, tap and the swirl of an air conditioning unit.

She looked up, wondering what was going on, only to find her boss and Gabriel glaring at her, the PA standing still with his hands buried deep in his pockets, beside Gabriel.

"Marianne!" Mary hissed, before starting to cough.

What was it this time? Had she got something in her teeth? Or maybe her hair had gone wild. Marinette began tapping her own hair flat; Mary continued her coughing fit and grabbed her throat tightly. Was there something on Marinette's neck?

Darting forward, Gabriel's assistant grabbed a cup of water and handed it over to her boss, one she gratefully took and pretty much downed. It seemed this time the coughing was actually choking.

"How dare you speak to him like that?" Mary said through gasped breaths. "Who do you think he is? Some sort of barista?"

Marinette's mouth opened wide as she looked between Mary and the blond standing awkwardly, scratching his neck at the front of the room. She squinted. Was she meant to know him?

The familiar lopsided smile greeted her as he stepped forward. "It seems some introductions are overdue. Hi, I'm Adrien Agreste. I'm going to be working in the Paris office over the next couple of months — overseeing the collaboration."

She couldn't be certain, but there was quite a huge chance that she'd just squeaked, or squawked, or made some other animal based noise. Maybe she should just go live in a zoo. "When you say Adrien Agreste...Do you mean..."

The blond, handsome man beside Gabriel slowly removed his glasses and gave her a smile. A smile she'd seen on posters, and even at one point had scattered around the walls of her bedroom.

She watched as he reached a hand out towards her. With her own shaking, she reached out and took Adrien's, allowing him to take control, moving it up and down.

His eyes danced as he wiggled his eyebrows – a facial variation of the Hokey Pokey taking effect. Oh, he was playing this! "Hi, it's very nice to meet you."

She nodded, praying that she didn't do anything more embarrassing, like throw up. Her fingers tingled as she let go, her face becoming as heated as a week away in the Maldives.

As the conversation started, and Gabriel and Adrien settled into the seats opposite, she could feel Adrien's eyes on her – judging her. She tried to focus on looking away, concentrating on her scribing and that alone; however, as she remembered her earlier interaction with him, her cheeks heated up to the degrees of Mount Vesuvius, her head almost exploding as she remembered she'd called him...hot stuff.

In a need to keep herself occupied as Gabriel and Mary moved to the design boards, Mary sickeningly giving Adrien a little too much attention, Marinette grabbed her stylus from her bag and opened the company's design app. She started to sketch, only to feel, once again, Adrien's eyes burning into her and making her feel uncomfortable.

Maybe coming to London wasn't as exciting as she'd originally thought.

*****

Mary had been quiet the entire 20 minutes back to the hotel. The only words she'd said to Marinette included demands to send to Lillie. Marinette read between the lines quite easily.

"Miss Humphries, I'm so sorry, I didn't –"

"When we get back to Paris we'll consider what options are left for you within this company. What you did today was inexcusably ignorant. You work in fashion, Marianne. You should know a 'world-famous model' when you see him. Especially when it is the son of our most lucrative collaboration."

To be fair, he'd dropped off the scene four years ago, the last sighting being his first couple of weeks at Cambridge. How was she meant to know he'd turned into Superman? Those glasses and that hair...goodness, he was quite the sight. She'd always been more fond of Clark Kent than Kal-El — and this guy was definitely sending out the vibes of bulk and brains.

"I'm sorry," Marinette whispered again, looking down at her hands.

"As you should be!" The car stopped just outside the hotel. Without another word, Mary exited the car, heading into the hotel and straight to the check-in desk, not bothering to give Marinette a backwards glance.

Marinette clambered out slowly, wanting to keep a suitable distance between herself and her boss, just in case she took the moment there and then to fire her. She thanked the chauffeur once more before heading to the desk furthest away from Mary and grabbing her key card. Apparently her bags had already been taken to the room, and she was free to venture up whenever she was ready. Mary, ear firmly to her phone, was just heading to the elevator, so Marinette took the opportunity to take in her surroundings for the evening...and hopefully find the bar.

The distant ding of the elevator signalled its arrival, the swoosh of the metal doors opening and closing, finally allowing her to breathe again. Some of the anxiety had been removed with her boss. However, she was certain a glass of wine would complete the job.

She entered the bar, having her choice of a selection of stools and heading straight for the counter. Placing her side bag down in front of her, Marinette quickly sent Tikki a small smile, her kwami looking at her with as much sorrow as she felt for herself. Poor Tikki. She must be mortified to be stuck with such a failure.

"Le Rouleur, Blanc de Blancs," she ordered, pulling her phone from her bag, ready to pay.

The wine glass was placed in front of her and Marinette could only see it as a little drop of heaven to complement her day from hell. She stretched out, determined to enjoy it. It was huge – a replica of a fish bowl. This was going to do the trick...

That was until she took the first gulp. She coughed. Once, twice, three times, before finally clearing her airways and lowering her head to the bar, banging it repeatedly against the hardwood. She couldn't even drink right!

Marinette rested her chin on her arms and looked through the glass at the liquid perfectly positioned inside before reaching out for the glass's stem. She was a disaster, a complete disaster. As condensation mirrored the tears in her eyes, she couldn't shake the ache of heartbreak, wondering if returning to Paris held the key to healing or deeper despair. Maybe she should just stay here and become one of those statues in Covent Garden.

Haunted by missed opportunities, she grappled with self-doubt, questioning why each attempt seemed to slip through her fingers, leaving her feeling like a failure in the grand puzzle of life.

No, that wasn't true. When she was with him she was a success.

"Has the day been that bad?"

The voice interrupted her thoughts and made her jump, knocking the wine glass over. As she watched the stream become Niagara Falls over the edge of the bar, she was distracted by the expensive-looking suit it was soaking into. Fine woollen material which would now be ruined, thanks to her.

Her eyes moved up the legs and onto the firm torso, before continuing up and up and up into the grassy green eyes of someone she'd embarrassed herself in front of earlier.

Of someone who would now 100% think she was an idiot.

*****
Peony made this chapter come to life and I'm so so grateful! Isn't the artwork incredible! 💖