Jess turned first, sensing how Odette's mind was going through every possible scenario this could go. She didn't want this to be really happening, as if not turning would somehow make it a figment of her imagination.
The man looked like he was in his early forties, his sharp salt and pepper beard and hair well groomed, his skin tanned evenly golden. His light grey linen suit and gold accessories along with his broad shouldered posture spoke for themselves. With the slight similarity in his green eyes, compared to Odette's, Jess really didn't need to ask who the man in question was.
Jess wanted to say a lot of things - to protect her, to ward him off somehow - but being caught off guard, he wasn't sure which way Odette wanted to deal with the situation. Just telling him to leave hardly wouldn't have solved anything. More than anything he was just frustrated that it had come to this.
"Je dois te parler, Odette," Henri said. Jess got the gist - he needed to talk to her, but if they kept this up he wasn't going to be able to follow soon with the speed he spoke. His demeanor didn't seem as rude or demanding as Jess had expected, if anything it was pleading, but he couldn't be sure if he was being genuine or not.
"Say what you have to say and then leave," Odette bellowed, as she turned, insisting on continuing in English. She wanted this, whatever it was, over quickly, and she wanted Jess to be able to follow what he said. Jess had never seen her this assertive, powerful and determined before - there really hadn't been a need for her to be.
"You're not going to invite me in?" he asked, switching to English somewhat reluctantly, adding, "I would think you'd know better than that to air our dirty laundry out on the street."
"I'd prefer not, but if it gets you to leave sooner, then fine," she hissed, beginning to search for her keys as he continued to walk towards her house, without waiting. There was no use to hiding her home now - he clearly knew already. She wondered how he found her, and more than that - for what reason. Odette exchanged a few glances with Jess, but neither had much to actually say until they knew what this was about.
Jess observed the interesting dynamic between Odette and Henri as they entered the house. While for most people the man would appear intimidating or even awe-worthy, Odette treated him one would treat a brother during a sibling bickering match, having him trail in after her without a word with a certain arrogance. Jess leaned against the kitchen doorway, without bothering with introductions, simply observing Odette pace angrily from one leg to another. He was there if she needed him, but it wasn't his battle, not now anyways.
"So what do you want?" Odette barked, her arms crossed firmly over her chest.
"You missed the funeral," he said. Jess couldn't quite tell whether it was a reprimand or a simple statement. Henri didn't have much of an accent in the pronunciation but rather his intonation was foreign, making it difficult for Jess to read.
"I forgot," she snapped back. She didn't care. She hadn't wanted to be there. But she doubted he would take either of those as a valid reply, so she might as well reply with something as ridiculous as she had.
"Oh, allez*," Henri let out a frustrated groan, taking a step closer to her, making Jess stand straight more assertively, as if ready to protect her physically if needed.
"How did you find me?" Odette asked seriously, insisting he'd stick to English.
"It wasn't easy, I tell you," Henri sighed.
"You didn't answer my question!" she exhaled frustratedly.
"Medical records," he replied bluntly, as if it had been his right to know. "Dad attempted to contact you for months, you know - without much luck. He didn't like the way you left things," he added calmly.
"I wasn't obedient enough, was that it?" she huffed. The only medical records she could think of were that she'd had at Dynasty Makers from before she got her new ID. If he'd gotten her address from those documents, he must've also known about her plans as well. Merde! - she muttered in her mind.
"Sure, that was a part of it, he was angry for a while but after his diagnosis, I actually think he might have just wanted to clear the air," Henri explained, calmly.
Odette rolled her eyes. It was as much of a defence mechanism as disbelief. Odette struggled to believe what he was saying despite him sounding sincere. He always played these mind games. She knew him better than that.
"Believe what you want," Henri sighed, sounding exhausted.
"Why are you here? What do you want?" Odette continued, curiously. If he didn't care what she believed, why was he there? Why bother finding her in the first place?
"You missed your chance to revoke your inheritage. That is what I assumed you aimed to do by your little disappearance act," he explained, handing her a fold-up A4 paper, a list of assets, from his jacket pocket.
"I can't be of help with that I'm afraid, not anymore," she replied, handing the papers back to him without looking beyond the title. It took her perhaps 30 seconds of thought to realize what this was about - by the French law children always inherit part of the parent's fortune, no matter what the will states. She hadn't been able to revoke the inheritage beforehand, without her father finding out about her plans. She also really hadn't expected him to pass this early - the man had just been 62 years old. Without her showing up her part would just sit in limbo for at least 10 years, until the presumption of death would be applied.
"That is less than ideal, I must say," Henri noted, thinking for a few seconds.
"Why can't you just leave me be! I don't want any of it! Surely you can wait a few years, or I don't know - get a fake death certificate somewhere, I'm sure money can make things like that happen," she suggested.
"I hoped we could deal with this using less extreme measures. I mean it's one thing for your mother to think you've chosen to live your life away from us, another to think you died," Henri said.
"Don't you dare manipulate me, I'm past that," Odette exclaimed.
"The only thing your mother is guilty of is standing by her husband all these years. You know what their relationship was like. She's glad to be rid of him too, on the inside at least, I'm sure. But she misses you too. We've been just as much under his thumb as you have, just unlike you, we accepted it and didn't fight it, because we saw the benefits it brought. Now he is gone and we are not, so why do you need to punish our mother like this?" Henri lectured.
"You know damn well that it is not that simple!" she huffed.
"And you wouldn't be just keeping yourself away from us, it'd be your child too - am I right? I saw your records," Henri added.
Odette took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, moving around in a circle briefly, glancing an almost apologetic look at Jess for having gotten him involved in this mess.
"I'm not pregnant," she assured. At least as far as she knew she wasn't and she didn't have to lie even.
"For now," he added.
Jess couldn't take it anymore, pure rage pulsed through him, and it showed. His fists clenched and he was very close to punching the man. He hadn't felt that kind of rage in a very long time.
"Don't," Odette told Jess quietly, touching his arm. "You'll just make it easy for him - he'll press charges for the tiniest scratch if he can, this is what he does - this is what he wants," she added in whisper. Her eyes were worried, but calm, and it was that calmness along with her touch that allowed him to compose himself for now. He'd never hated anyone as much as he hated Henri right then and there.
"So what do you want? What do I have to do to get you to leave me be?" Odette said. It seemed that she was going to be subject to a series of threat, harassment even if she didn't comply at this point.
"You come home with me, we meet with the lawyers, you accept the inheritage and you sign everything over to me. And we should do a non-disclosure agreement so there wouldn't be any future claims by you or your descendants," Henri explained.
"You're not short of money, I'm sure. So what's this really about - the business?" she made the only logical assumption. She knew he'd taken over the business, but perhaps he didn't have quite as much power as he wanted?
"Let's just say that I don't want any surprises along the way," he added.
"I'm not sure I can do it. I'm not sure if my passport is valid. They'd need that to validate who I am," Odette added, almost apologetically. It seemed like an easy enough fix and she was actually considering this. While she did have her former passport, the only item of identification she'd kept with her old name, just in case, she really didn't know if it would go through official databases or raise flags.
"I have to tell you, it's impressive you've managed to get yourself a new identity in this short of a time, I don't know how you pulled it off," he said, sounding proud. "But when it comes to this - you had a biometric ID before, right? Surely those details would still match and you could just claim you lost your ID or something," Henri suggested.
"How will you assure me that if I do this, that you'll let me be?" she asked, her face grim. She hated that she was again doing what he wanted, but she didn't seem to have much choice. She was putting herself at risk in the process - she could imagine the issues along the way - potentially getting charged with using a fake ID, or entering the country under one name and having to explain her presence in the county with another. What if he threatened her to stay? She could imagine a number of things he could do if he wanted to. A lot could go wrong.
"You'll just have to take my word for it," he shrugged, raising his eyebrows.
She didn't trust him one bit.
"Think about it. I'll be at the Plaza until tomorrow evening," he suggested, turning to leave.
Odette kept it together until the door closed behind him, then sinking onto the couch, her face between her palms, gripping at her hair. She felt as if nothing had changed.