The French Kiss Read Online Lauren Landish

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
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Downstairs, I open the door, and there’s a moment of still silence before . . .

“The show may begin, now that I’ve arrived,” Katarina says airily with a glint of humor in her eye.

“Some crazy shit you got going on here, bitch.” Molly, of course.

“Thank you for hosting us,” Yori says politely.

Any concerns seem to have vanished into thin air as they rush Autumn for hugs. Except Beatrice holds back, standing behind the other women at Jacqueline’s side. Albert and Tobias also stay back, silently watchful about what’s about to go down.

Autumn moves toward Beatrice, and the other designers step out of the way like they’re not sure if a hair-pulling fight is going to break out. Or maybe just a slap of Beatrice’s cheek? Or hell, I never know what to expect with Autumn, so she might simply hug Beatrice.

We all wait with bated breath to see. Autumn told me that she’s not even sure what her reaction will be. Beatrice awaits her judgment with tears on the verge of spilling over as she bites her bottom lip.

“Why?” Autumn asks gently, but Beatrice flinches as though she yelled it.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I went along with it. It seemed like the only way to . . .” Beatrice glances at Jacqueline, who frowns.

“I’ll admit that I did quite a fair job of encouraging Mademoiselle Dupont to go along with my plan. I made it seem as though it was in her best interests to do so.” Jacqueline’s admission is delivered matter-of-factly, and everyone can read between the lines that she promised Beatrice a win if she went along. That’s a hard prize to turn down when you’re an aspiring designer, truly willing to do almost anything to make your dream come true.

I know Autumn understands that more than others might, given the bumpy road she had to take to reach her dreams. She’s had to go against her mother, work while going to school, and do extraordinary things while assisting Nora. If someone could wave a magic wand and make that journey disappear, I don’t know many who would be strong enough to turn that down.

“Thank you,” Autumn tells my aunt before turning to Beatrice. “I forgive you. Fashion is cutthroat, we know that. But friendships are more valuable than any outfit.” Beatrice sags in relief, the tears finally falling over. “And it turned out for the best in the end. Otherwise,” she warns, not a pushover in the slightest, “I might not be nearly so forgiving. Now come here.”

They embrace, Beatrice’s head resting on Autumn’s shoulder. Well, as close to it as she can get. Autumn is on her tippy toes, but Beatrice still has to bend her knees to reach her with their significant height difference.

Molly, Katarina, and Yori join the hug-fest, and it’s girl time. They laugh and cry, talking over one another and generally ignoring that the show starts in less than two days.

Jacqueline clears her throat, ready to get to work, but I catch her eye and hold up one finger. Let them have this, I tell her with my eyes. She looks at the women again, and I can see something in her expression that looks like affection. Or maybe longing. When my aunt began her fashion journey, she didn’t have friends and cheerleaders to support her, and witnessing the women coming together to do just that must seem both strange and wonderful.

After several minutes, I hear Autumn say my name.

“You aren’t mad about me and Simon?”

They laugh, and Yori tells her, “We all knew.”

Autumn shakes her head vehemently. “You did not!”

Molly pushes her shoulder. “You’d bust ass to get as much done as possible, and then leave to ‘work at home’ or ‘visit the park for inspiration’ and come back the next day with barely anything else done since you left. And you’d have a dreamy smile on your face.” Molly makes a vacant-eyed, open-mouthed smiling expression that I think is supposed to be what Autumn looked like.

I did that to her, I think cockily.

Katarina nods, agreeing. “We thought you’d found a French Romeo, and then we saw Simon wearing the same necklace you’d started wearing. It didn’t take much to put one and one together.”

Beatrice adds quietly, “We were a bit worried for you, as he has quite the reputation. And it didn’t seem to be helping you in the competition. We weren’t concerned about that until . . .” She trails off, and I know that my aunt turned that particular screw to get Beatrice to do her bidding.

“Okay, so no hard feelings?” Autumn asks them all.

Molly leans over to loudly whisper to me, “No hard feelings already? I hear that can happen to old guys. Mother Nature’s a bitch, ain’t she?”

“Molly!” Autumn shouts. “Not like that. Simon is . . . I mean, we’re . . .” she rambles, before deciding on, “I don’t mean about sex.”


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