Chapter 10
Ten
Steve’s eyes widen as I enter the break room. “What happened to you?”
“Henry happened,” I mumble, and dart over to the sink.
I pump a generous amount of soap onto my hands and arms and vigorously scrub them down.
The hot water runs over my skin, stinging, and matching my mood.
As soon as I finish here, I’ll march straight to the bathroom, wash my face, and brush my teeth.
I don’t have the courage to wash my face in the sink we use for dishes.
“Um, Min . . .”
“Yeah?” I shake a few droplets of water off my hands, reach for a paper towel, and turn.
Steve’s cheeks are rosy red. “Your hair . . . it’s, er . . .”
“What?” I’m not in the mood to play games. If it looks like crap, whatever. I don’t care.
“It looks like the bird pooped there too.”
My nostrils flare, my eyelids flutter, and I inhale sharply and count backward from five.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Horse snot in my hair too?
Ugh. It’s going to be eight long hours before I can go home and shower.
Reaching one, I exhale. It’s fine. I’ll just wear a hat, and maybe nobody will notice.
“Thanks for letting me know,” I manage.
“Happy Monday,” Mr. G grumbles as he enters the room.
He clearly hasn’t had his second cup of coffee yet.
“Steve, you’re on the till today. Min, you’re working stock, but first, Lord Renbrook’s asked to see you in his office.
Meet with him, and then come and find me to .
. . what happened to your shirt collar?”
I thought my shirt had survived the ordeal. My forehead tightens. I feel a tension headache beginning to take hold. “A horse sneezed on me.”
“I’ll see if I can find you another shirt.” Mr. G sighs. “In the meantime, the marching orders stand. Renbrook is waiting for you.” He tucks the clipboard in his hands under his elbow. “Don’t worry about changing. Paddy is a horseman, he’ll understand the horse bogies.”
Mr. G hasn’t said anything about my hair. I resist the urge to touch it just in case whatever is in it smears and makes it worse. Lord Renbrook is known for being scatterbrained at times—maybe he won’t even notice it.
“Yes, sir.”
If I had attended normal school as a teen, I imagine that the walk to Lord Renbrook’s office would be a lot like a walk to the principal’s office.
I keep my head down as I cross through the exhibit hall and decide to take the stairs to the second floor.
My legs move quickly, in an effort to avoid as many people as possible.
Unlike most higher ups, Renbrook doesn’t have a secretary. He handles most of his own affairs, unless there is a request from the palace. In that case, the details usually get passed on to Mr. G.
The door is propped open. The museum’s director is bent over his desk, scribbling something down. I tap my knuckles against the wooden door and wait. He raises his head.
“Minerva, please come in.” He stands. “Would you care for some tea? I think there’s still hot water in here.” He lifts the top of a white ceramic service for one and glances inside. “Er, never mind.”
“Thank you, sir, but I’m fine.” I take a seat and rest my hands on my lap. “You asked to see me?”
“It’s Patrick, and yes, I did.” He walks over to a sideboard and shuffles through a few papers until he finds the documents he’s looking for. “I wanted to return these to you.”
“My sketches,” I say in a low tone.
With the craziness of the weekend, I’d forgotten they were in his possession. He places them in my hand, but they’re in much better shape than when he took them. Someone has taken the time to slip them into a folder with plastic sheet protectors.
He leans against the edge of the desk. “I showed them to the future Lady Renbrook and she wanted me to tell you . . . let me make sure I get this right.” He retrieves his mobile from his pocket and unlocks the screen.
“You’re like a young Yves Saint Laurent.
I’m also supposed to mention you have a wonderful eye for adding a modern twist to the classics. ”
“Wow, she said that?”
Saint Laurent is well known today as one of the major fashion houses, but few people actually know that the man himself was discovered by Christian Dior.
After Dior passed away, it was Saint Laurent, at the age of twenty-one, who was promoted to take over the Dior Maison.
Having Lord Renbrook’s fiancée compare me to a great man like that is one of the highest compliments a young designer can receive.
Returning his phone to his pocket, he nods. “She did. She spent quite a bit of time going through them with her best friend, Sonya. I think they left a Post-it note in there, but she wanted to see if you could put together a few sketches for her.”
My throat goes dry. Is Renbrook trying to tell me that his fiancée wants to commission me for a project? I snap open the folder and locate a pink Post-it note on the final page.
It’s written in large swirly letters that are a little difficult to decipher:
This is the aesthetic we’re after. Would you be able to put a wedding collection together? Looking for traditional and Chinese options for a bride and options for my bridesmaids.
I’m stunned. My jaw drops open. “She wants me to create designs to wear for your wedding?” I sputter.
“Only if it’s something you’d be interested in and have time for. Our wedding is in six months.”
This is the opportunity of a lifetime. I can’t turn something like this down.
It’s not something you say no to. I just hope they understand who they’re asking and that six months isn’t very much time.
The pre-Sam me would’ve been freaked out by all this, but the new me is as cool as a cucumber. I can handle this. I hope.
“Um, I’ve never done bridal work, but if your fiancée is willing to take a chance on me, I’d be honored.”
Lord Renbrook claps his hands together. “Brilliant. I’ll ring the ladies and let them know.
Sonya will probably reach out to you later today and set up an appointment.
They’ll be able to answer any questions you have.
I’m just the groom. All I have to do is stand at the end of the aisle and say those two magic words—I do. ”
He stares off into the distance for a moment, lost in his head.
Lord Renbrook has the look of a star-crossed lover you might find in a rom-com.
I could be speaking to him and he wouldn’t be able to process anything I’m saying.
The depth of his love for the future Lady Renbrook is clear.
I hope someday if I ever find the right guy, he reacts the same way when he thinks about me.
A moment later, he jerks. “Um, sorry about that.” He tugs at the neck of his shirt and sits down.
“I, er, had something on my mind. I’ll let you get back to work.
” I reach over, careful not to knock anything over, and we shake hands.
It’s in that moment that he sees I’m a mess and says kindly, “Minerva, did you know you have something on . . .”
“Yes, sir. A horse sneezed on me on my way to work.”
“That’s happened to me a few times. I like to think it’s a sign of good luck.” Lord Renbrook chuckles. “Salt and baking soda are the best stain removers. The key is to let your clothing soak for a few hours.”
“I’ll have to remember that. Thank you, sir—Patrick.”
“You’re welcome.”
I see myself out and hope Mr. G has indeed managed to find a new shirt for me.
I try not to let my mind wander too far.
At this point, it’s only a verbal offer, but when it comes to weddings, the real person in charge is the bride.
I hope Lord Renbrook’s fiancée isn’t one of those demanding bridezillas.
Later that afternoon, I receive a long-awaited text from Sam.
Sam
Sorry for getting back to you so late, Min. As you might’ve guessed by now. I’m not on ceremonial duty today. I’ll be back at HG middle of next week.
Min
No problem. I know you’re not ignoring me on purpose.
Sam
I never would. *Winking emoji* This is the first break I’ve had today.
Min
They work you hard, don’t they?
Sam
There’s a reason most of us prefer being at HG. We’re responsible for fewer horses. Here at Knightsbridge, each of us looks after about six to eight animals. And they’re all needy.
Min
Like you’re caring for spoiled human children?
Sam
That’s the gist of it. How are you today?
Min
My day has been interesting.
Sam
*Wide-eyed emoji*
Min
I got sneezed on by a horse this morning.
Sam
You did?
Min
It was a big police horse named Henry.
Sam
Oh no.
Min
Other than that, it’s been a pretty typical Monday at the museum. I’m on stock duty.
Sam
That doesn’t sound too bad.
Min
It’s not. I’m nearly done, and I’ll be heading home soon.
Sam
Oh, do you close early on Mondays?
Min
No, it’s just the day I work a half shift. I’m only a part-time employee. I do a half day on Mondays and full days on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays.
Sam
Good to know.
Min
What are you doing now?
Sam
Waiting on my last horse to finish being shoed by the farrier. After that, it’ll be time to give him a bath.
Min
Sounds like fun.
Sam
With Monty, it always is. He’s a big horse, just under eighteen hands tall. I’ll introduce you two sometime.
Min
As long as he doesn’t sneeze on me.
Sam
I can’t promise that, but he doesn’t usually.
I wait a moment as Sam adds . . .
Sam
I know this might be a little soon to ask, but this weekend is one where the MOD allows us to invite our families and friends to visit the barracks. My sisters are coming on Saturday, but would you like to come on Sunday?
Min
It’s a date.
Sam
Brilliant. I’ll text you the details. There’s an online form for you to fill out.
Min
Perfect.
Sam
Looks like Monty is just about done. Text you later?
Min
*Thumbs-up emoji*