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 shakes her head, returning her attention to my mother. “She left you at the orphanage with a note that she’d be back soon. They think she was escaping, trying to set up a life for the two of you, but needed to hide you in the interim, I guess? There was a car accident, or at least that’s what they ruled it. I think he ran her off the road, and they both died on impact. I lost my sister and had this tiny, miniature version of her and the man who took her from me, and I was suddenly supposed to be what she was—a mother. But I didn’t know how, so I did . . . my best.”
Autumn is bawling beside me, and Jacqueline’s stiff upper lip is trembling at the memories assailing her. Even Albert and Tobias are clearing their throats uncomfortably. I reach up to my cheek and find it wet. I’m . . . crying too.
Over my lost mother, who did love me and didn’t want to leave me.
Over my childhood that in some ways, took my aunt’s dreams from her.
Over my own heartbreak at feeling unloved by the two women in my life who did truly love me the best way they knew how.
“I had no idea,” I whisper.
“I should’ve told you,” she whispers back.
Autumn pushes at me, nearly shoving me out of my chair. “Get up and hug her, or I’m going to have to do it, and I’m not getting snot on her jacket. It’s too fabulous for that.”
I get up to come around the table, and for the first time in I don’t know how long, I enfold my aunt in a hug. I know it’s been long enough that I’ve forgotten how thin she truly is. And I don’t think I’ve hugged her when I’ve been taller than she is, even in her power heels.
How long ago must it have been since we embraced? It must’ve been when I was truly a child, before I was a teen growing inches seemingly overnight.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs into my chest.
“Me too.”
We sit back down, and I look to Autumn, silently asking what she thinks about my aunt’s request for a fashion showplace. We have a conversation consisting solely of raised and lowered eyebrows, pursed lips, and smiles.
Finally, Autumn turns back to Jacqueline. “Okay, I’m in. Fashion week is in two weeks, though, so I’m not sure we can pull a show together by then.”
Jacqueline smirks, pleased as punch with herself. “I’ve already booked it. Friday night, eight PM.”
Autumn jumps to her feet, the chair noisily pushing back behind her. “What? That’s Friday night, at eight PM. Like primetime.”
“Precisely. House Corbin doesn’t do anything small, my dear. Besides, the designs are already completed. They’ll simply need tailoring to New York models, and a bit of . . . repair.” She cringes at that. “I’ll get you anything you need for that.”
“You bet your ass, you will,” Autumn declares.
Negotiations made, we look around the table at one another.
Have we done it? Agreed to a show in two weeks when the studio is a mess? Yep. Made up twenty-five-plus years of anger and hurt in a single conversation? Maybe not fully, but we’ve made considerable progress.
Tobias says in his worst American accent, “Ain’t family grand?”
CHAPTER 30
SIMON
It’s been eleven days since Jacqueline’s visit, and I’ve barely seen Autumn stand still at this point. She’s been running here and dashing there. She sits in the thankfully now-clean floor to spread out her pieces because we don’t have a table large enough for her to work on, but she says it reminds her of being at FIT and doing work in her tiny, shared studio apartment.
I think she’s ready, though. Or if she’s not, she’ll have to make peace with where the designs are because time’s almost up. It’s Wednesday afternoon, a mere forty-eight hours before model call for the showcase.
The door buzzer downstairs rings, and I can see excitement rush through Autumn, from her head to her toes. Her cheeks flush, and she curls a red lock around her finger.
“Nervous?” I ask.
“A little,” she confesses.
We’ve talked about this moment and her concerns. She’s still upset with Beatrice, but also, she’s worried that the other designers will hold her tantrum against her, or like Jacqueline, think that Autumn went after me to get a leg up in the competition. There’s a whole slew of possible landmines, and Autumn wants to address them without making them go boom!
I escort Autumn down the elevator, ready to go to battle for her if need be, though I seriously doubt that will be needed. She can fight her battles on her own and does a better job than I usually do, given the way Jacqueline has been nearly eating out of Autumn’s hand over the last two weeks.