The reception is held in a gorgeous candlelit brasserie tucked in the 7th arrondissement, filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and the comforting din of students and professors unwinding after months of stress.
There’s wine flowing, congratulations passed around like party favors, and hugs lightened by the weight of the pressure lifted off.
28
I’m holding a flute of something bubbly, head resting against Nathan’s chest, half–listening to a conversation about post–grad internships, when a warm hand touches my shoulder.
“April dear, can I steal you for a second?”
I turn and nearly choke on my drink.
Lily Ellington.
Even in something simple–tailored black trousers, a white silk blouse–she looks like she stepped out of a magazine cover. Her presence has that familiar magnetic pull. Calm, commanding. Undeniably chic.
But it’s not her clothes that undo me. It’s her eyes, clear and kind–that genuineness that always floors me.
“Of course,” I manage, handing Nathan my glass.
He gives my waist a gentle squeeze as I follow her.
She leads me to a quieter corner, away from the bustle, and turns to face me fully. “I just wanted to tell you–what you did tonight? That was breathtaking, April.”
My throat tightens. “Thank you. That means…more than you know.”
She smiles softly. “Is it vain of me to say I do know?” She reaches out and gently caresses my face. “I’d like to say I took a chance with you, April, but that’s not true. I knew you would excel. I knew you would make me proud.”
A tear slides down my cheek, and before I can stop myself, I throw my arms around her.
She laughs softly and hugs me, too, gently stroking my back.
“Thank you, Lily,” I sniff. “Thank you so much.”
“All I did was open a door for you, hon, you did the rest all on your own.”
I shake my head, pulling back. “But I never would have been able to if you didn’t hold that door open.”
She beams. “Well then, you’re very welcome.”
She continues, “I was wondering–how would you feel about coming to work with me? There’s a spot opening on the conceptual design team for our upcoming atelier line. You’d be perfect for it.”
My breath hitches, and it takes everything in me not to cry.
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Chapter 207
But I shake my head. “Lily, I’m so honored. But I have to say no.”
She blinks, surprised, and I rush to explain.
“Remember at the Ashford ball when you asked if designing was a hobby?”
She nods. “You said it was your dream.”
(28)
“Well, my dream has never been to work under a label,” I say quietly. “It’s always been to create one. My own house. My own name. That’s what I’m going to do now. Lara will be my first model, and Nathan will be my business consultant and partner.”
Lily’s eyes shine, and for a moment, she says nothing, and I’m terrified I’ve offended her, looked my gift horse in the mouth.
She did say she was investing in me. What if I’ve insulted her by declining her offer?
Then she smiles–broad and genuine. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
She opens her clutch, pulls out a sleek card, and presses it into my palm. “Well then, you already have your first model and consultant. So I’ll be your first investor.” She winks. “And whenever you need someone in your corner, someone to help you navigate the cutthroat
fashion world–know I’m there.”
I can’t help it–the tears burst forth and I’m throwing my arms around her again.
She laughs, hugging me back, firm and warm.
Just when I manage to convince myself that the life I’m living is real, something else happens to blow it into the fantastical.
Later that night, we–me, Nathan, Lara, and Julian—all end up in Nathan’s and my apartment, still dréssed up, shoes kicked off, limbs draped lazily over the couch and floor.
Bottles of red wine and leftover cake sit between us like spoils of war.
My head is in Nathan’s lap, and he strokes my hair softly as I blink sleepily at the sloped ceiling.
“I keep wondering when I’m going to wake up,” I whisper,
“I’ve been telling you for two years,” Nathan chuckles, leaning down to kiss my forehead, “You’re not dreaming.”
I sigh. “I better fucking not be,”
“Let’s play a game!” Lara announces out of the blue, sitting up.
I groan, “Aren’t you tired?”
“Nope,” she says, popping the ‘P‘
She grabs a wine bottle and throws her head back, emptying the contents.
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Chapter 207
“Truth or dare,” she announces.
“No.” I sit up, shaking my head.
Julian raises a brow. “Why?”
I glance at Nathan and avert my gaze. “No reason.”
Nathan chuckles, kissing my cheeks. “It’s not going to be like that.”
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