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)
Autumn is blushing furiously, and I pull her to my side, tucking her under my arm. “We’re more than fine there,” I reassure them all, only a little defensively. And not old, definitely not old.
“Perhaps we could get to work?” Jacqueline says, steering the conversation back to more productive topics and away from my sex life. We’ve come a long way in the last two weeks, having conversations about my mother, House Corbin, and my childhood, but my prowess in the bedroom is not one of the things I wish to share with her.
“Yes, come upstairs!”
I escort the women to the elevator, and though it’s a bit stiff, I place my arms around Jacqueline in a polite, warm hug. “Good to see you,” I tell her truthfully.
“You too, Simon.” Her eyes are brighter than I’ve seen them in ages, maybe ever. “In some convoluted way, I do think things worked out for the best.”
I know what she means, though I never would’ve predicted the way things have turned out.
I watch the women oohing and ahhing over the newly renovated apartment Autumn and I have been working in. They run from table to table, and even wall to wall, as they exclaim over how large the space is. I can see the joyful smile on Autumn’s face, and I tell my aunt, “Me too.”
“Okay, what do we need to do first?” Jacqueline asks, surprising us all. Me, especially. A question, not a command? When I catch her eye, she explains, “This is your house. You tell me.”
Wow. I never thought I would hear her say anything of the sort. Judging by the wide eyes everyone else shoots my way, they didn’t, either.
“Okay, Tobias . . . if you can, go to Nora Jacobs’s place and see Clay. He has a trim that Autumn wants. Jacqueline and Albert, can you go check the venue? Make sure everything is set up and there’s adequate lighting and logo signage in place. Ladies, your designs arrived this morning and are waiting for you over there.” I point to the racks of black garment bags lined up for each designer. “Anything else?” I ask Autumn.
We’ve gone through the to-do list at least a dozen times . . . today.
“Kiss for good luck?” she answers. Not minding the audience, I cup Autumn’s cheeks, lifting her to her toes, and kiss her firmly. Her hands go to my chest, her nails digging into the flesh beneath my shirt deliciously.
“Whoo . . . do we all get one of those?” Molly teases. “I could use some good luck myself.”
When I release Autumn, she falls to her flat feet with a sigh of desire. She turns, planting herself firmly in front of me. “Touch him and die,” she tells the women threateningly. “He’s mine.”
“Is that like ‘I peed on it, it’s mine’ the way dogs do?” Yori asks in confusion.
Katarina corrects her. “It’s lick it to make it yours,, and it’s a sex thing I think, but English isn’t my first language either, so . . .?”
I place my arm around Autumn, my forearm resting over her chest. Kissing the top of her head, I tell the other designers, “Regardless of sayings, I’ll agree that I’m hers. And she’s mine.”
With that settled and Autumn’s territory—AKA me—claimed, we all get to work.
I’m mostly here to be everyone’s assistant and keep the to-do list updated with checkmarks as jobs are completed to get us ready for Friday night, and I do my best to provide everyone with what they need to work because the show is going to be an exciting and major event for us all.
CHAPTER 31
AUTUMN
Friday arrives faster than I thought it would. I haven’t slept in days, unwilling to waste precious minutes with something like sleep when I could be working to improve the pieces in my collections. We’ve all had a chance to make changes, repair pieces (mostly me, of course), and rethink our designs. The result will be a presentation from each of us that is exactly what we want and how we want it.
This show will be different from the previous ones because now, we all have fifteen pieces under the three different theme umbrellas. As a group, we decided it would be best to showcase by theme, each designer’s Summer of Love collection walking, then Seduction, then Amour.
Simon offered to walk with the finale models in the Amour collections again, but I sat on his lap, holding him down while I gave him a hickey just over the line where his necklace sits. It was my version of marking him as mine and answering not just ‘no’, but ‘fuck no’. He’d laughed and agreed his modeling days were over unless I decide to create menswear. But only in solo poses.
I’ve never considered myself a jealous person before Simon, but seeing him with anyone else is a danger to them and a risk of jailtime for myself. The same holds true for Simon with me.