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)
“It’s okay, I understand. I just wanted you to be one of the first to know.”
I blow a kiss through the phone and she snatches it up. When we hang up, I feel a new burst of inspiration and bliss blooming in my belly.
I’m going to be an Aunt!
“I cannot believe you paid two hundred euros for a set of nearly one hundred-year-old undies,” Molly says as we unpack our finds in the workroom. “Seriously? They probably have some antibiotic resistant STDs we think have been eradicated.”
I am carefully pinning the delicate fabric to a mannequin so that it sits directly beside my worktable as inspiration.
“Hey, Jacqueline said seduction, and this is my idea of seductive,” I reply, gesturing to the 1930s silk and lace three-piece set. It’s definitely different from what the other designers found, but I think that’s a good thing, showing our different aesthetics.
The other women are already hard at work, sitting in various spaces around the workroom drawing on their tablets or down in the fabric supply room to find options. I am curious what they’re thinking, given the variety of inspiration pieces we bought, everything from hard-edged leather strapping from a horse bridle to a classic marble figurine of a nude woman.
Me? I’m flying, with a brain already so full of ideas that the designs are begging me to hurry up and bring them to fruition. I think a collection where there can be some mixing and matching among the outfits is where I want to go. I eye the inspiration set again and add some lace trim to a bustier I’m drawing.
Ready, I head to the fabric room and make my selections, then get to work.
It seems like minutes later, but judging by the progress I’ve made, it must be hours, when the door to the workroom opens. “Yes! Dinner!” Molly calls out. “I was gonna start eating Katarina’s left leg.”
“I thought the expression was ‘eat my arm’,” Yori questions.
Molly wiggles her eyebrows. “It is, but what’s the fun in that?”
Katarina kicks out said left leg, making it look extra-long and shapely as she coyly tells Molly, “My legs are not where I like to be eaten.”
“Ooh,” Beatrice sings.
Molly props her elbows on her table, her chin resting on her fists. “Do tell.”
We laughingly work our way over to the table to see what’s been provided for dinner tonight. One thing’s for sure, it’ll be something delicious. Everything I’ve had in France has been mouth-watering and memorable. Tonight, it appears we’re having salmon, asparagus, and roasted potatoes.
I pick up a plate, filling it from the family-style offerings, but then see that Yori has frozen, looking scared.
“What’s wrong? You loved the salmon last time,” I remind her.
She lifts her chin, eyes focused over my shoulder. “Bonjour, Monsieur Albert.”
I turn around, surprised to see Jacqueline’s assistant. He’s nearly always at her side—for the fashion shows, when she tells us of the week’s theme, and when she walks around House Corbin. I’d believe it if someone told me he even presses the bidet button for her. They’re like two peas in a pod, though with a significant power dynamic difference.
Albert dips his chin at Yori’s greeting, but his eyes are locked on me.
Uh-oh.
I instantly have that pit in my stomach like you get when you get called to the principal’s office. Not that I was ever in trouble at school. I was more like the hard-working teacher’s pet.
“Good evening, ladies. Miss Fisher, if I could bother you for a moment?” Albert says politely.
It’s a question, but it’s not like I can decline. “Of course. What can I help you with?”
Molly, always having a friend’s back, interrupts with a teasing purr. “I can help you, Albie. It would be no bother.”
Albert responds with a tight smile and then to me says, “I’m afraid this is in regard to Miss Fisher, specifically.”
I nod, setting my plate down without eating a single bite, and follow when he indicates I should do so. We walk side by side down the hallway in silence and my unease grows. Finally, I try. “Is this about the photoshoot images?”
Albert cuts his eyes my way as he presses the button for the elevator. “I’m afraid not, Miss.”
I search his blue eyes, finding nothing there. He’s gone emotionless like the professional he is, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, and knowing nothing. I won’t get any information out of him.
But I still have to try. “Where are we going? Surely, you can tell me that, at least.”
There’s a tiny glimmer inside me that hopes Albert’s been sent downstairs to bring me up to Simon’s office. But Albert isn’t Simon’s assistant. I know where he’s taking me. I only hope I don’t know why.
Please let it be to get feedback on the first fashion show.
Up the elevator, my nerves grow. I’m glad I didn’t have a chance to eat or I’d probably lose it. Salmon sounds disgusting right now. On the top floor, Albert strides down the hall easily. I haven’t been here yet, but it’s as beautifully appointed as the lower floors with lots of modern white, chrome, and glass. Albert stops in front of Jacqueline Corbin’s office and gives me a look I can’t decipher.