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)
“Va te faire foutre dans le cul,” I whisper.
“You can fuck me in the ass anytime you want,” she answers with a smile.
“You understood that?”
“Oui. My French is getting better, at least curse words.”
“Alors, viens pour moi,” I tell her, translating in case she doesn’t understand. “Then come for me. Now.”
I kiss her, claiming her mouth as I claim her body, and claiming her heart as she’s done mine. She comes once more, though it’s smaller than the previous ones, a ripple working though her before she relaxes in a puddle of satisfaction.
I release her hands and let her move her legs as I press tiny kisses over her salty skin, along her jaw, on her freckled cheeks, and at the tip of her nose. She’s still for a bit, letting me love her and luxuriating in the attention, until she suddenly goes rigid.
“Where’s Xerxes? This is the point where he’s scratching on the door or trying to jump in the bed,” she says, stressed about my crazy jealous dog.
I chuckle. “He’s with Tobias, still in Paris. But he’ll be coming over soon. This trip was a bit last-minute, and I hoped to be busy with getting everything ready.” I look around the room that is not particularly impressive. It needs paint, new flooring, and more furniture. And a really deep clean. “How’d I do?”
Autumn doesn’t look at the apartment or talk about the studio downstairs. She doesn’t look at the rock of a ring I slipped on her finger or the expensive chain on her neck. Her eyes never leave mine. “You’re amazing,” she sighs. “I mean, you did amazingly.” The correction is unneeded because I’m quite sure she said what she meant the first time.
“Yeah, I’m pretty good like that,” I tease.
CHAPTER 29
AUTUMN
I’ve never been particularly handy with a sander, drill, or paintbrush, and redoing the studio is hard work. But I keep telling myself that this will be worth it very soon. And I am getting better at working with the noise of the people actually doing the renovations who are good with power tools.
We’re only a couple of weeks into overhauling the studio—thankfully, with Nora’s full and complete support and guidance—and working upstairs where it’s a bit cleaner, I already have a whole slew of designs tacked to the wall, fabric on the single folding table in the middle of the room, and a rack filled with completed pieces.
I’m hoping to have a true collection release by the spring Fashion Week in NYC, even if it’s a small one. We’ll need it to drive business to the storefront we’ll have open soon.
It’s a bit like learning to swim in the middle of the ocean with sharks nipping at your toes and twenty-foot waves washing over your head, but so far, I’m treading water and still breathing. Because Simon’s at my side.
The bell by the front door of the building rings, and I look at Simon in confusion. The workers come in the back door, and other than Simon and me, no one else comes in or out. He starts to get up from his own folding table-slash-desk, but I know he’s buried in numbers and the budget, so I wave him off. “I’ve got it.”
I go downstairs to answer the door, and my breath is stolen by the people standing there—Jacqueline, Albert, and Tobias.
“What are you—”
“May I come in,” Jacqueline says—not a question, but rather a statement—and interrupting the mental battle I’m already plotting out that includes a pretty exciting possibility of my throwing her out by her hair with a bonus kick to her bony ass.
I don’t get a chance to say yes or no, so I’m not sure what my answer would’ve been because she waltzes in while I’m still deciding.
“How . . . quaint.” Her eyes scan the space as her lip curls in distaste.
“We think so,” I snip. “As I was saying, what are you doing here?” I make zero effort to hide the fact that she is unwelcome, having made my decision when she insulted the building Simon has been calling his wedding present to me.
“Is Simon here? Perhaps there’s someplace we can talk?”
She’s here to take him away from me. I know it down to my core, but this time, she won’t be successful. I have the utmost confidence that Simon and I will see through whatever manipulations and games Jacqueline tries to use. We’ve had several more raw, deep conversations, revealing more and more of ourselves to one another, and I would never doubt him for an instant, and he would never doubt me. We’re solid and steady, a united front against whatever battle Jacqueline is bringing to our door.
“Of course. Upstairs.” I guide them to the elevator, and I swear I think Jacqueline holds her breath while we go up to the third floor.