Love By Design

Chapter 45

The sound of a distinctly upbeat ringtone and loud clattering against my bedside table is what wakes me up the next morning. Still half-asleep, I reach for my phone, my voice groggy as I answer automatically.

“Hello?”

Normally, I’m not one for sleeping in but the hecticness of the last few weeks has finally caught up to me and returning to the familiar comfort of my bedroom in Switzerland has heightened my natural habit of being a recluse.

“Did you see the articles I sent you?”

It’s Gigi.

“Articles?” I mumble, disoriented. “What articles?”

Glancing at the time on the corner of my phone, I blink. It’s just after 1 PM which means I’ve slept for over 12 hours.

Yet I still, somehow, feel so tired.

I press a hand over my mouth to stop myself from yawning loudly over the phone.

“Check your messages, Hallie.” Gigi urges. “I sent you links.”

Slowly I sit up and put my phone on speaker as I swipe on my notifications. My brows furrow at the flurry of messages, not only from Gigi but also from Pollux as well as Ymir and Saoirse. My phone continues to ding as more notifications come through, this time from my socials for Mahalia Made.

I tap on Gigi’s message, scrolling through links and screenshots, swiping to access each one in succession. I frown, unable to understand the articles as they’re in different languages.

“Gigi, they’re in French and Italian and— why did you send me an article in Korean?”

I couldn’t help the yawn that escapes my mouth this time.

“Read the first one, Hals.” She says pressingly. “The one in English for MODUE.”

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I blink blearily as I read the headline.

“Rags to Royal: An Insider’s Look at the Toussaint x Holmes Regalwear Collection by Upcoming Designer…” I pause, jolting alert. “Mahalia Hartt?”

My brows shoot up at the title and I rub my eyes again for good measure. I blink at my phone screen, not quite sure whether I’m hallucinating.

Skim reading through the rest of the links, my mouth hangs in disbelief. Sure enough, it contained different articles but it’s all about the same topic.

The Holmes collaboration, the regalwear collection, Toussaint’s aristocratic fashion. The languages may be different due to the translations but one thing stayed the same– my name.

Mahalia Hartt.

On every article.

Emerging Designer…. Promising Fashion Talent… Newcomer in Design…

“Gigi, what is this?”

“It’s an article published on the MODUE website.” She replies.

“Wait– what?”

My eyes quickly read through the article featuring an interview with His Royal Highness, Prince Tobias of Toussaint detailing his thoughts on the regalwear collection.

“I don’t understand.”

“I wrote different articles about your work as one of the designers for the Holmes x Toussaint collaboration,” Gigi answers. “I interviewed Prince Tobias as the source for one of them.”

“You wrote multiple articles?”

“I did the exclusive interview as the main one, then a review and an opinion piece. All translated into different languages and posted on a variety of publications.”

I blink, in awe.

“Won’t you get in trouble for this?” I ask, voice thick with emotion as I continue scrolling through the articles from various websites.

“Nope,” Gigi responds. “Head of Digital approved it.”

Her reply stuns me. “How?”

“August.” She answers.

My heart skips at the mention of his name.

“Not only was he able to pull some strings and get the articles published but he also had it translated to get wider reach.” Gigi continues.

A whirlpool of emotions stirs in my chest.

“He helped?”

“As August and Jean-Luc,” Gigi confirms.

“What?”

My eyes sweep over the pictures in the articles. The majority of the photos are from the research trip to Cionne but there were plenty taken of me working at Holmes. Candid images of me in the studio, behind-the-scenes of the samples being assembled— all photographic evidence of my involvement throughout the entire project.

I look at the Copyright tagged at the bottom right corner of every photo and I feel the maelstrom in my chest ground itself to the eye of the storm.

Jean-Luc Photography.

“He orchestrated the entire thing,” Gigi reveals. “And before you say anything, I’d like to clarify that I did not contact him whatsoever. August reached out to me. Granted that I might have written a strongly worded email to Prince Tobias regarding the worrying malpractice of a certain studio that they’re currently working with but I digress.”

“Right…” I reply with a laugh, my voice shaky.

“I genuinely had no idea he would use his connections as a nepo baby,” Gigi remarks. “August managed to get the articles published in all the well-known publications of every fashion capital— West and East.”

Eyes watering, I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

“Does Holmes know?” I ask.

“Internally, I can imagine they’re having a field day with this coming out of nowhere,” Gigi comments. “Externally, it’s good media coverage for the brand. Like genuinely good exposure. Holmes needs all the positive publicity they can get.”

“This is insane,” I reply, shaking my head.

“It would be very difficult for anyone at Holmes to challenge it since it’s been approved by Vante,” Gigi says. “It puts your name back in the project where it belongs, Hallie. August made sure of it.”

My mind wanders to August. Even through the rollercoaster of the last few months, he managed to put his personal feelings aside and still be professional when it comes to work.

“Was he angry?” I ask quietly.

“Who?”

“August,” I reply, clearing my throat.

Even saying his name sends my heart into a flutter.

“He was livid.”

I swallow. “Oh.”

“But not at you,” She backtracks. “At Sebastian.”

“Really?”

“Tobias told me they were both at the Winter Gala and that August was expecting to see you there,” Gigi shares. “He was not happy when he found out Sebastian essentially removed you from the project and stopped you from attending the presentation.”

My fingers twitch anxiously at the memory of my confrontation with Sebastian which ultimately led to my decision to leave the studio.

“Hence, Operation: Headlines for His Hartt,” Gigi adds. “Tobias’ surprisingly catchy name for August’s quest to distribute the articles as quickly, and as widely, as possible. Your man was on a mission, Tobias said that man did not sleep.”

My heart tugs at the information.

“Thank you, Gigi,” I comment, then add after a realisation. “Since when were you on a first-name-no-title basis with the spare heir?”

She answers without missing a beat, “Since the first email I sent him regarding your little research trip to Toussaint.”

I laugh loudly, feeling significantly lighter.

Only Gigi would conspire with a literal prince.

“Sorry for gatecrashing your little sorrow soirée all the way in Switzerland,” She says, lightheartedly.

I smile. “I can’t think of anyone better.”

“Not even your shutterbug sweetheart?” Gigi sing-songs.

“Huh?”

“Nothing!” She clears her throat.

After quickly catching up and informing me of her own plans for Christmas, Gigi and I hang up.

A sense of relief washes over me and I feel far more uplifted than I have been over the past few days.

Staring at my phone, I begin scrolling through my contacts until I find August’s number and I contemplate for a moment.

The way things ended between August and I was less than ideal. But he didn’t let personal feelings get in the way. When it came down to it, he has always been nothing but supportive of me and what it is I love to do. My thumb presses the call button and I wait. Part of me wanted him to pick up but I’m also relieved when it goes to voicemail so I could leave a message.

“August. Hi. It’s Hallie.”

I cringe at how stilted I sound.

“Mahalia, um, Hartt.” I pause, suddenly realising I don’t know actually what to say. “Happy holidays? I, uhh, tried to ring but it went to voicemail. I mean, you’re probably busy since it’s the Christmas holidays— so I understand if… if you may not be able to answer…”

I trail off, awkwardly. I should have probably prepared in advance the sentiments I wanted to express.

“I just want to say thank you, umm, about the articles. I really appreciate the efforts you went through… I know- I know the last time we spoke wasn’t the most amicable and I would like to apologise on my part. If you’re not too busy… I’d love to meet up? Just to say thank you in person. After Christmas or… whenever you’re in London. I know you’re probably busy with Grayson… How is New York City, by the way? I bet Christmas is amazing there. Unless you’re in Paris, in which case, JoyeuxNo?l…”

I inwardly wince, realising I’m rambling now.

“Just let me know? If you’re interested,” I continue. “B-but if you’d rather not, that’s okay too. I just want to let you know that I’m really grateful. For all the help and encouragement you’ve given me during, um, the times we worked together. You have no idea how much it means to me to still have your support, even after everything. I wholeheartedly appreciate it and I appreciate you. Thank you so much for believing in me.”

My throat constricts as I feel myself get emotional so I begin to wrap up the voicemail.

“Have a wonderful Christmas, I hope everything’s going well with you in New York. Sending you my love— uhh—ly well wishes. Sending you lovely well wishes from London. Well, technically Interlaken, but-”

I stop myself before I start talking nonsense again.

“Thank you August, truly.” I say. “I really hope to see you soon.”