Love By Design

Chapter 28

“He’s related to royalty?”

Gigi’s voice echoes in the flat as she calls out to me from her bedroom.

It’s a Saturday evening, both Gigi and I are getting ready to attend an event on behalf of MODUE Magazine as I simultaneously detail the events that transpired over the past few days at Holmes.

“Like legitimately?” She questions.

“I don’t know how exactly but yes,” I reply, grabbing my black strappy heels from my closet. “Legitimately.”

Opting for all black, since I feel far more comfortable blending in rather than standing out in events I have very little knowledge on how to network in, I decided to wear a black lace bandeau with matching black wide-leg silk trousers and strappy heels.

Making my way to the living room, I walk over to the armchair and sit down, securing the straps of my heels around my ankles.

“Your man is like an 18th-century Rococo mantua dress,” Gigi comments. “Elaborately decorated with so many layers.”

I shake my head at the accurate description. “Not my man.”

Standing up, I grab my black clutch bag, double-checking I have all my essentials.

“Your man who isn’t your man, sure.” She laughs. “I’ve never met someone so…”

“Overly embellished and complicated?”

“I was going to say multifaceted but that works too.”

I’ve always been a relatively straightforward person. Particular, sure. But I know what I like and I’m happy with what I like.

August is still an enigma to me. A complicated one at that.

Involving myself with him would be like wearing something that’s two sizes far too big. I simply wouldn’t fit and it would not be flattering.

Gigi struts into the living room moments later, dressed in a black diamante studded playsuit with matching black stilettos.

“Are you catastrophising?” She questions, voice filtering through my thoughts.

“No,” I reply, sheepishly.

Gigi playfully rolls her eyes at me before checking her phone. “Schedule your catastrophic thinking for later, Hals. Taxi’s downstairs, let’s go.”

The event I’m attending with Gigi is a collaboration between Babble, the online dating app, and The Duke Dalton, a private gentleman’s club in Mayfair. Gigi had been tasked with writing up an article of the press event in place of the junior editor who abruptly left Entertainment. It’s a non-fashion PR function and that’s as far as I know.

The moment we’re outside of the establishment, Gigi is instantly in work mode as she struts towards the entrance.

“Hi, Mason.” She nods towards security. “Genevieve Winters and Mahalia Hartt.”

“Of course, G.” The guard replies, stepping aside to let us in.

Entering the private club, I’m immediately in awe at the elegance of the interior. The fusion of Art Deco extravagance and continental charm is evident, with walls adorned in velvet curtains of deep emerald and sapphire, accentuated by intricate gold-leafed mouldings. Plush leather chairs and divans, upholstered in velvet fabric decorate the entrance room, as crystal chandeliers cast a warm and inviting glow to the interior. Every detail is meticulously curated, from the fancy parquet flooring to the hand-carved wooden panelling.

Gigi and I settle at the bar, my eyes perusing the expensive drinks menu.

“Hals,” Gigi whispers to me. “That’s the co-founder of Babble right there.”

I turn my head. “The one you’re supposed to be interviewing?”

“Jack Montgomery,” She confirms.

Her eyes are assessing as she gives the tall stranger a few metres across from us a quick once over.

“Will you be okay on your own for a bit?”

“Yes,” I nod in reply. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave.”

Sensing how important this is for Gigi, I push away the drinks menu and turn to her.

“Go,” I usher her quietly. “Do your thing, Miss Winters.”

Gigi flashes me a grateful smile before striding over to a man in his late twenties with dark blond hair, currently in conversation with William Dalton, the man who owns The Duke himself.

I sit by the bar, content with people watching and admiring the decor. It’s obvious that the bar is a central focal point of the gentleman’s club, boasting an impressive selection of top-shelf spirits. I’m not a huge fan of rare whiskies and elaborate cocktails but I know an expensive alcohol menu when I see one.

My eyes fall to the tiny intricate glass water bottles in the display and I reach for one, admiring the ornate label detailing the glass.

Perks of attending fancy events? Freebies. I’m about to sneak another bottle into my purse when I hear a voice calling out to me.

“Hallie?”

I turn my head to find a familiar figure approaching the bar.

“Fancy seeing you here, gentle goddess!” Henry grins at me.

My nose scrunches at the nickname as he pulls me into a side hug, the stool I’m currently sitting on is elevated so I’m just coming up to within eye level.

From head to toe, Henry is brightly dressed. A short-sleeved, white canvas button-up shirt patterned with brush strokes and paint splatters, low rise wide leg trousers and pristine white boat shoes to match.

“Did you come with August?” He cranes his head over the bar as I shake my head.

“No, I came with a friend.” I turn to gesture in Gigi’s direction only to find the spot vacant. “Or she was here, she’s around somewhere.”

I scan the well-decorated room full of exquisite paintings from across the continent gracing the walls. It’s an overwhelming display but it boasts the rich cultural heritage of Europe that The Duke Dalton are very much associated with.

“Wanna come join me at my table?” Henry asks. “I’m here with a few friends.”

“Oh, I don’t want to bother you,” I answer with a small smile. “But thank you.”

“Don’t be daft,” Henry insists. “It’s only the boys. You’ve met the Contis already, right? They walked at the Holmes show.”

I briefly remember dark hair, dark eyes and tanned skin at the fitting and I nod.

“Perfect, we’re over by the private booths on the first floor. I just need–” He pauses as he looks behind me and recognition flashes in his eyes. “Actually, Sebastian will take you. Seb!”

Following his gaze, I turn to find a figure with dark brown hair and intense blue eyes approaching us. Sebastian’s wearing a white button-down, with the first few buttons of the shirt undone, and black trousers paired with loafers.

“Evening,” He nods at me, aloofly.

There’s no animosity between us professionally. At least I’m hoping there isn’t, but there is a slightly undisclosed tension on my end, being an extended associate to August.

“Will you show Hallie our table?” Henry says to Sebastian. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

I smile politely. “It’s fine, I don’t–”

“Be right back.” Henry gives a two-fingered salute before disappearing into the crowd of people making their way towards the bar.

Sebastian regards me for a moment but he doesn’t say anything, walking past me completely.

I pause for a moment, before turning my head to watch him. I expected Sebastian to continue walking up the stairs to their private table but I’m surprised to find him standing at the bottom of the stairs waiting.

“Are you coming?”

Sensing there’s no escaping the situation, I nod wordlessly before sliding off the bar stool.

Neither of us have seen each other since that morning in August’s office and there’s a slightly standoffish energy to Sebastian as I follow him. We haven’t discussed what happened but I don’t feel like I know him well enough to. Sebastian and I aren’t necessarily friends. We’re acquaintances at most, even moving to colleague territory since we’ll both be working on the regalwear collection.

Whenever he decides it’s convenient for him to come to the studio, that is.

The first floor of The Duke Dalton is warmly lit. Separated into a bar and booths, there’s a walkway by the bar that overlooks the ground floor. Peering down the railing, I sigh in relief as I spot Gigi sitting in conversation with Jack Montgomery in one of the seating areas in the corner.

Sebastian leads as we walk down the walkway that separates the VIP tables into private booths.

“I sincerely hope an angelic thing like you isn’t coming home with a spawn of the devil like him.” A voice teases as Sebastian and I approach one of the booths in the corner.

“Prick,” Sebastian calls out good-naturedly and the faces around the table erupt in quiet peals of laughter.

I blink at the stranger’s comment, glancing towards Sebastian.

“This is Alfie, that’s Benji.” He begins motioning towards each person around the table. “And you know the Contis, Rome and Teo.”

There’s a chorus of hellos before Sebastian continues.

“This is Hallie,” Then, as if pondering what to call me, he settles for: “My partner.”

All four of them choke on their drinks and I turn towards Sebastian at his introduction, a bemused expression on his face.

“In Design,” I quickly add. “I’m assisting with the regalwear collection at Holmes.”

“Bloody hell, mate.” Alfie chuckles.

“You could’ve started with that.” Benji shakes his head.

“Lovely to see you again, Hallie.” Romeo nods towards me. “Hen will be glad to see you.”

“He’s the one that found her,” Sebastian comments.

I feel a little out of place, to say the very least.

“How are you finding the event?” Mateo asks, politely making conversation.

“It’s a nice change in environment,” I answer. “I spend a lot of time cooped up in a studio so…”

I trail off, not entirely confident standing in front of a table full of testosterone-fuelled nepo babies.

“We’re not really big on these events either,” Benji comments. “But we know Jack and there’s free alcohol.”

“And Alf basically forced everyone,” Romeo adds.

“You mean my dad and his PR team,” Alfie rolls his eyes, before turning to me. “They’ve been wanting some press for Duke and these so-called influencers are decent eye candy apparently.”

Benji shoves at him playfully, thick American accent as he comments. “Dude, we’re doing this for free.”

“Please do not call me an influencer,” Mateo scoffs. “It’s insulting.”

“Might have to agree with him there,” Sebastian says, nudging Alfie so he can sit down.

Hovering by their table, I glimpse down at the ground floor, mentally sighing in relief to still find Gigi by the corner with Jack Montgomery.

“Sit with us.” The eldest Conti offers.

I’m about to decline their invitation and head back down to Gigi when I feel a presence behind me.

“What did I miss?” Henry drapes an arm over my shoulder as he looks over the table, his other hand holding a whiskey glass. “Let the lady sit, boys.”

He gestures wildly around the booth for everyone to shuffle, sitting me down before I can protest. He shuffles in after me, essentially sandwiching me between him and Sebastian.

“Drink?” Romeo motions towards the champagne cooler on the table and I shake my head politely.

“No, thank you.”

“The fact that she came up here willingly with Seb, completely sober, tells us everything we need to know,” Alfie jibes.

Playful snickers erupt around the table as Sebastian scoffs before leaning back on the booth and taking another swig of his drink.

“Aren’t you with August?” Mateo questions unsuspectingly.

There’s a record scratch as the table pauses, animated chatter falling into silence.

“He came with you?” Alfie blinks, looking over his shoulder as if expecting August to materialise out of thin air.

I shake my head.

“No, I came with a friend,” I pipe up, craning my neck over the balcony to see Gigi. “She works for MODUE Magazine.”

“You know her, Benj?” Romeo turns towards the young chief executive of the New York brand.

“I don’t automatically know every single person that works for MODUE,” Benji rolls his eyes before looking over in my direction. “Henrietta is my godmother.”

I nod in acknowledgement because, of course, everyone would be connected to someone here. I can probably play people association with one person in the room and end up connecting every single person in the establishment to each other, one way or another.

“It’s a shame August couldn’t be here tonight,” Alfie shakes his head. “Would have been the first time the infamous Fashion Four are all under the same roof.”

“Nothing ever keeps him interested long enough,” Benji snorts. “The playboy’s difficult to please.”

The sound everyone makes in agreement with the statement somehow makes my stomach turn.

“I’m sure he’d come running once he finds out his favourite designer’s in attendance,” Henry teases me, bumping my shoulders and I force a smile. “You should have seen his face when I asked Hallie out to dinner, the man was ready to gut me inside out.”

Everyone is looking at me as I stiffly sit next to Sebastian.

“If looks could kill,” Henry visibly shivers. “He has it down pat.”

“It’s the Peroxide Prince glower.” Benji snorts.

There’s reshuffling in our seats as Sebastian gets up.

“Bathroom,” He states before walking away.

“Maybe don’t bring him up so damn much.” Romeo sighs before following Sebastian.

Henry holds his hands up placatingly as Mateo gets up to order more drinks at the bar and Benji excuses himself to take a call.

“So, you and August, huh?” Alfie regards me as I end up sitting next to him, hazel-green eyes curious.

“No, we’re just…” I pause.

Work colleagues? Friends? Certainly nothing more but I don’t know what to refer to him as, especially in this setting.

“Oooh, she hesitated.” Alfie chuckles.

“Friends of friends,” I answer.

It’s the safest option, I suppose. Not too disconnected as work colleagues but not close enough to be actual friends.

“Is that what we’re calling it nowadays?” Henry snorts. “Do friends of friends kiss each other on the mouth?”

I blink.

“There are eyes and ears in Onyx,” Henry reveals. “And a lot of lips, apparently.”

Taken by surprise, I try not to react to his comment.

“It’s nothing like that.” I shake my head. “August and I aren’t… like that.”

Of course, I wasn’t expecting anything to come out of a drunken kiss. August had been gracious and understanding enough, even sparing my feelings instead of flat-out rejecting me.

“So I still have a shot?” Henry winks at me.

Alfie cuts in. “I wouldn’t entertain this little man-slag if I were you, babe.”

“Not you too,” Henry groans. “What is with everyone cockblocking me?”

“Lads!” The booming voice belonging to Jack Montgomery echoes on the first floor. “They want pictures downstairs.”

I look to find him making his way over towards the private booth I’m in, Gigi trailing behind.

“There you are!” Gigi sighs with relief. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Told you she’s in safe hands,” He comments, holding his arm out towards me. “Jack Montgomery.”

I nod nervously, shaking his hand. “Hallie. Mahalia Hartt.”

“Ah yes, Gi was ready to call out a search party for you,” He quirks a smile before turning his attention to the rest of the table. “Hen, photo op by the entrance. Alf, don’t forget to smile.”

They all excuse themselves downstairs, leaving Gigi and I by ourselves in the VIP booth.

I turn to Gigi. “Gi, huh?”

“Don’t ask.” She scrunches her nose.

“That took a while,” I comment as Gigi sits opposite me.

“He wanted me to play matchmaker,” Gigi snickers. “Apparently, a certain London It Boy has his eye on you.”

I frown. “Gigi…”

“Don’t worry,” She winks at me. “I told him there’s a particular heir to a Parisian fashion house that’s already vying for your attention. Jack is sending Henry thoughts and prayers.”

“I really don’t think that’s the case.” I sigh.

If the company he keeps is any indication, I’m confident August Vante is not the type of person who would be interested in someone like me.

Sebastian returns, gaze hardening as he assesses the empty table.

“Pictures,” I supply stiffly. “They’ve gone downstairs for a photo op.”

There’s a pause as he studies Gigi and I.

“I’ll be in the studio next week,” He informs me. “To go through the schedule and workload with you for the collection.”

I clear my throat. “We’re using the studio on the fourth floor.”

He nods in acknowledgement but doesn’t say anything else as he leaves, not even sparing a second glance as he descends the stairs.