Chin Chin

Prologue

Every man has his proverbial little black book. The luckiest own a Moleskine. What he chooses to put in it matters only to him. That is until he misplaces his little black Moleskine.

Peter Gordon routinely placed his Moleskine on his bedside nightstand. This morning he awoke to find it missing. It contained the passwords to all his client accounts. The loss of his Moleskine diary would create an embarrassment, untold consequences and a compromise of his credibility to his clients. What if his Moleskine diary got into the wrong hands?

The loss of treasured memories and contacts can create a tsunami of emotions. Panic and dread are often followed by a string of hypotheticals when one misplaces their diary. Then there are the rhetorical questions that follow: “What did I do with my diary? Where could I have left it?” I wonder who is reading it now?”

A diligent person retraces their steps to recover their diary at the cafe where they had coffee, at the register where they picked up their cleaning, or perhaps at a girlfriend’s apartment—which could spell disaster in a dating relationship depending on the diary contents. Could the missing diary have fallen out of a backpack? If so, where? Would an honest person return it? If a thief pickpocketed the diary, would he or she hold it for ransom? It would take an intelligent thief to realize the value inherent in the small black Moleskine diary belonging to Peter Gordon.

Peter Gordon began his career in US government cybersecurity and later opened his own Paris-based company, Technocrats. He had come to carefully guard his Moleskine diary and the secrets it held especially after he had taken on a multitude of clients. A few were billionaires who called from the financial capitals of the world when they suspected a virus, or hacking of their digital systems. Other clients included smaller businesses with CEOs exporting their products and tracing the transport of their goods digitally across the globe.

So what should Peter Gordon do next to recover his Moleskine diary? Peter Gordon prayed for divine intervention.

Chapter 1

“Having means nothing if you don’t know how to use it!”

Gabrielle ventured to Paris to model. She had a fitting at 9 a.m. in the Marais for a renown designer and then a hit a hot yoga class. Afterwards, she dropped into a little cafe near the Eiffel Tower for coffee and to watch tourists.

Tall, with long dark-hair and long willowy limbs, Gabrielle wore clothes like a rock star. Her cheeks, flushed pink from her hot yoga class, gave her a glow as she sat down to order an expresso and crossed her slim legs in black window-pane stockings.

“What is this?” she asked pulling a little black book from her seat. “Someone left their Moleskine diary!”

She opened the Moleskine diary and slowly turned its pages. She realized she had come into the possession of a book of passwords and ciphers. She wondered who they belonged to and whether the owner would miss them.

“How do I return this book to its owner?” she asked herself.

The waiter might have a contact, she thought.

“Waiter?”

Gabrielle beckoned to the waiter Jacques who routinely brought her an espresso.

“I found a very important diary on this chair here,” Gabrielle explained. “Is it possible you have the name of the person who lost this diary?”

“Yes!” replied Jacques.

He returned with a receipt and credit card statement from Peter Gordon, the tall, elegant, well-dressed man who had left a generous tip along with the misplaced diary.

“It us the diary of Peter Gordon, Gabrielle!” Jacques declared. “He is a good patron.”

“Let’s call him!” Gabrielle replied in English.

Jacques led her to the bar where he phoned Peter Gordon.

“Me. Gordon?” asked Jacques.

“Yes?” replied Peter Gordon without hesitation.

“I found your small black diary here. Your Moleskine!”

“Great, thank you!” replied Peter Gordon. “I will come there for lunch and the diary!”

Jacques hung up the phone and winked at Gabrielle.

“My check for the coffee?” asked Gabrielle.

“No, Gabrielle! It is my gift!” replied Jacques comping her expresso and lunch. “Also, if you want lunch it is my gift as well!”

“Thank you, Jacques!” replied Gabrielle.

Gabrielle ordered a Niçoise salad and waited for Peter Gordon to arrive while leafing, page by page, through the little black Moleskine diary.

Peter Gordon arrived at the cafe dressed in a trench coat as rain had begun to fall. He collapsed his umbrella and entered the cafe, placing it in the metal stand near the door. He scanned the tables until his gaze rested upon his black Moleskine on the table next to Gabrielle. Jacques nodded towards the table where Gabrielle was seated and Peter Gordon approached her.

“Good morning! I am Peter Gordon and I believe you have a Moleskine diary that belongs to me?” he said.

“Gabrielle Montcrief, pleased to meet you! Please sit down,” she said. “I found your book when I came for coffee.”

“Well, I owe you a reward for recovery of my diary!” said Peter. “Thank you and Jacques for your kindness!”

“You are most welcome!” Gabrielle replied.

She pushed the book across the table to Peter.

“I am sure with all the passwords in it, you did not want to lose it!” Gabrielle added.

“Ah yes. It would have been quite an embarrassment as you can imagine,” replied Peter.

Peter Gordon slid an envelope across the table to Gabrielle with a smile.

“I hope this will compensate you for your trouble!” Peter said. “Maybe I can take you to dinner sometime when you are free! Please excuse me now —I have a meeting in the Marais.”

Peter stood up to leave as Gabrielle finished her salad.

“I just came from yoga in the Marais,” replied Gabrielle. “Dinner there would be nice sometime.”

“How about tomorrow night?” asked Peter. “Eight o’clock? Robert and Louise?”

“Sounds great!” said Gabrielle.

“Until later then!” replied Peter.

Peter Gordon rose and glided over to the bar where he slid a second envelope towards Jacques across the counter with a wink. Then he exited the cafe, opened his umbrella and stepped confidently back into the Paris drizzle.

Gabrielle had taken her notebook out and began to scribble in it after finishing her salad. She would wait to open the envelope when she met Peter Gordon for dinner and then share her secret with him. She smiled and thanked Jacques for her coffee and salad.

“Thanks, Jacques!” said Gabrielle with a wave as she left the cafe.

Chapter 2

“”Trust the Process”

Gabrielle Montcrief had escaped to Paris after completing her degree in three years while barhopping the cobbled streets of Georgetown University in Washington, D.C. She had learned to sew at a young age and wanted a career in fashion, so she majored in French and studied multiple languages. She had been offered a position by the Central Intelligence Agency after graduation due to her photographic memory, but travel was her passion and her passion had landed her instead in Paris with a career modeling.

Gabrielle began scribbling in her own notebook after finishing her coffee in the restaurant. She had copied the passwords in Peter Gordon’s little black Moleskine diary. She decided she would wait to open the envelope when she met Peter Gordon for dinner and revealed her talent for recall. Perhaps he would offer her more than the envelope contents once he knew his secrets were committed to her memory.

Peter Gordon had chosen Robert and Louise, a very old steak restaurant in the Marais, for their rendezvous. It wasn’t too far from the yoga studio, so Gabrielle took a 4 to 5:30 p.m class and showered. Then she headed to meet Marie, another model she worked with, for a glass of wine before her dinner with Peter Gordon.

“So this guy gave you a reward for returning his little black diary and you haven’t opened the envelope?” asked Marie incredulously. “Why?”

“I am not sure the funds he gave me are even legitimate!” Gabrielle replied. “What if the envelope contains counterfeit currency, or dirty money?”

“True. You don’t know this person!” said Marie. “What DO you know about him?”

“Not much. Only that he is president of a company called Technocrats!” Gabrielle explained. “He has a bunch of clients in different industries and their passwords were in the book.”

“Did you tell him about your gift?” asked Marie.

Gabrielle shrugged her shoulders.

“No!” Gabrielle said. “Not yet!”

“Well, if I were him and you returned my diary, I would feel as if I were out of the woods,” stated Marie. “On the other hand, if the girl who returned my diary had a photographic memory, I might still feel compromised!”

“Exactly!” said Gabrielle. “It is why I didn’t open the envelope until I found a way to tell him that I can recall the diary contents.”

“Well, be careful!” said Marie. “Maybe you don’t tell him and keep the cash and walk away!”

“It’s getting close to 8 p.m.” said Gabrielle. “I will call you later. See what you can dig up about his company Technocrats!”

“See you later!” said Gabrielle.

She donned her black cape and red beret and steered her way through the Paris streets to meet Peter Gordon at Robert & Louise.

Chapter 3

“Chin Chin”

Peter was seated sipping a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon as he waited anxiously for Gabrielle to arrive at Robert and Louise. As usual, he was dressed to the nines in a dark suit and crisp white shirt with gold cuff links. He rose from his chair to greet her as she arrived and gave her the customary cheek-to-cheek greeting. He recognized her perfume — Bal a Versailles.

“It’s great to finally meet the man behind the black diary!” Gabrielle announced as she took her chair. “Please tell me about your business!”

Peter shrugged as he poured her a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

“There’s not much to tell!” he replied.

“Because it’s classified and you can’t?” Gabrielle asked.

Peter smiled.

“Or because you would have to kill me if you told me!” Gabrielle said with a laugh.

“Neither!” Peter said. “Because I would have to hire you.”

His tone was part joking and part serious.

“Gabrielle, I know you have a photographic memory,” said Peter. “I know you are more valuable as a colleague and employee than the funds in the envelope I offered you for returning my Moleskine diary.”

“I haven’t opened the envelope,” admitted Gabrielle. “How did you know about my photographic memory?

“Jacques! He told me that you have a photographic memory,” replied Peter. “He eavesdrops all the time!”

“So I have Jacques to thank for lunch and spilling my secret!” Gabrielle laughed nervously.

“Why don’t you come work for Technocrats?” Peter asked. “We have clients with fashion portfolios who you could work with when you aren’t strutting the catwalks in Paris?”

“I don’t know what my duties would entail?” Gabrielle asked.

“My company needs a person here in Paris I can delegate to as I have travel demands in my job,” said Peter Gordon. “I just need to be able to reach you and give you related taskings. I would not offer you the opportunity if I wasn’t confident you could handle it!”

“Ok!” said Gabrielle. “Compensation?”

“Write down a figure!” Peter ordered.

Gabrielle wrote her salary requirements on the back of a napkin and slid it across the table.

Peter turned it over and smiled.

“The job is yours - Director of Technocrats Paris! Cheers!

He raised his glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and Gabrielle raised her glass.

“Chin, Chin to Moleskine!”