Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
She slides it down the table, and I capture it. For such a small thing, the envelope contains the future of Sun Orphanage. “Thank you. I will take it out immediately.”
“Of course. But I also wanted to say something else. I got a peculiar report about your behavior at the gala . . . kissing Tobias?” Thankfully, she doesn’t seem concerned, more just curious.
I chuckle. “His father is a homophobic ass. I wasn’t going to let my friend live a lie any longer, so I placed a big kiss on his cheek.”
Jacqueline smiles, truly grins so widely that crow’s feet appear around her eyes. I didn’t even know her skin would still move that way. Not that I’m judging. As models, we have to do many odd things as a way to chase youthfulness and maintain marketability. A bit of Botox is the least of it.
“How did Tobias’s father react?” she asks, sounding like she’d quite like the gossip.
“Poorly,” I say, faking sadness. “Seems his own ego took a hit by Tobias’s sexuality. Who knew the two would be related?” I tease.
She laughs lightly, seeming delighted. “Tobias is such a nice boy. He deserves better than that.”
“Agreed.”
“Speaking of deserving better,” she says, her face sobering, “you and Miss Fisher? If you are defying me and still seeing her . . . there will be consequences. For you and her.”
“I understand,” I reply, standing up. Not that I agree, not that I admit to seeing Autumn or to accepting my aunt’s commands.
Simply that I understand.
Because there’s no way I’m going to stop seeing Autumn. She’s mine, I’m hers. And no matter what sort of bind I’ve put myself into, that’s not going to change.
No matter what.
Back in my office, I text Autumn . . .
Busy?
Never too busy for you. Actually, that’s not true. I’m eyeball deep in fabric, have balls of thread in my hair, and I poked myself in the thumb for the 976th time today. And in case you forgot, the show is in five days.
I laugh at her response.
Oh. Too bad. I was going to ask if you would like to go on an adventure with me today. :(
Where?
Does it matter?
No. I’ll tell the Sisterhood that I’m working from home. Pick me up in an hour?
Oui, Princesse.
Parked on the curb outside Autumn’s apartment an hour later, I see her walking toward me and can’t help but smile. She does indeed look a bit disheveled compared to her usual tidiness, but I find it quite adorable. Her red hair is pulled up in some sort of knot, but there are strands falling by her ears and along the nape of her neck. There’s also a few escapees right above her forehead, and oddly, I feel like she’s been blowing those out of her way all day while she works. Her ankle-length pants and slim T-shirt have the slightest hint of wrinkles. I think this is truly what she was working in today.
“Bonjour. Are you sure you have time for me today? I wouldn’t want to drag you away from something more important,” I say honestly as she climbs into my car and buckles up. If she needs to work, I can do the check delivery on my own. I only thought it would be nice to do this together.
“I’m good. I’ll be up all night working anyway, so a little bit of a break is probably good for me. I’ll be able to hit it with fresh eyes later. So, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” I tell her with a cocky grin. “But you’ll like it.”
She places her hands over heart and recites, “In that case, I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
I laugh as we head down the streets of Paris.
A bit later, we pull up to the gates of the orphanage and Autumn looks over at me. “Where did you think we were going?” I ask and she blushes slightly. “Princesse, did you think we were going to the Dungeon?”
She squirms in her seat. “Maybe, but this is better. We need to talk to Tristan.”
I hadn’t planned on doing that today. Delivering the check is my mission, but she’s right. I need to talk to Tristan about what happened, both his actions and mine.
“We’ll see if he’s available, but I have the check for the director. I thought you’d like to see the good work that the gala is going to do.” I pull the envelope from my jacket’s inner pocket and hand it to Autumn.
Slowly, she takes it with a question in her eyes. “I don’t need to see it. I’m sure the House is doing right by the orphanage.”
“You’d be surprised what they can come up with, but I want you to see.” I don’t explain, but she opens the flap of the envelope and peeks at the check.