Chapter 21
The whirring sound of the coffee machine is what stirs me into consciousness. There’s a soft throbbing in between my eyes and I groan, feeling the ache stretch all the way to the back of my head.
Slowly, I open my eyes.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Gigi choruses as she waltzes into the living room, drawing the blinds apart and flooding the room with sunlight.
The unexpected brightness makes me wince, my eyes squinting at the clock on the wall.
07:09 AM.
“God, I feel awful.” I groan, dragging a pillow over my face.
My voice is hoarse, my tongue heavy in my mouth.
“I’m surprised you made it back in one piece. You were pretty out of it last night,” Gigi comments. “How was dinner?”
Sluggishly, I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the sofa bed. It takes me a moment to ground myself, despite my bare feet brushing against the cool wooden floor.
“Tense,” I answer. “Sebastian was there.”
“Did Rose and Thyme set on fire?”
Recollections of the previous night float back into my head, fragmented and blurred, as I rub the sleep from my eyes.
Visions of platinum blond and steely grey pop into my memories, a wave of realisation washing over me as I gasp loudly.
“I kissed him.”
Gigi blinks, her expression morphing into mortification. “Sebastian?”
“No,” I grimace, shaking my head. “August.”
Her jaw drops in shock. “No way.”
The overwhelming realisation pulls me under this time as the memories replay much more vividly in my head.
I didn’t even make it to the bathroom, immediately throwing up all over the floor by the bar and being kicked out soon after. Everyone else was gracious enough to leave the club with me but I felt bad at having to cut the evening short and I wince at potentially being blacklisted at Onyx.
The thought of my face being plastered across tabloids and gossip columns makes my stomach lurch. I’m already anticipating the stern lecture I know I’m bound to receive from August because what happened last night crossed so many lines and stepped over so many boundaries.
“Wait.” Gigi eyes me up and down. “Did you go home with him?”
“Of course not!” I sputter. “He’s my boss, Gigi.”
She laughs sheepishly. “You didn’t get back until this morning, I thought you would have walk-of-shamed your way out of his penthouse apartment or something.”
I try not to blush, feeling the heat creeping up my neck.
“Although, it would have been interesting to know how long it would have taken him to get you out of the Impossible Dress,” She giggles.
“Oh my god, my dress.” I groan, cursing what started everything off.
I scramble up, eyes scanning around the living room to find my dress on the armchair.
“I’m assuming that belongs to August?” She points towards the navy blazer next to the dress. “I swear you’re stockpiling his clothes like you’re making a collection.”
Clumsily, I collapse onto the bed as my mind struggles to recount every detail from last night.
“I think this is it. I’m going to lose my job.” I drag the pillow over my face to muffle a quiet scream.
“You’re catastrophising.” She tugs the pillow away from my face. “Hals, if August dislikes you as you claim he does, he would have fired you a long time ago. Not necked you off in the dark and questionable recesses of Onyx.”
“What am I doing with my life?” My voice is muffled as I bring the pillow back over to my face.
“Schedule your existential crisis for later,” She laughs lightly. “Don’t you have the Holmes presentation today at Regent Street?”
Rolling over to my side, I hug the pillow to my chest, wanting nothing more than to crawl back under the duvet covers.
“Yes.” I sigh.
The flagship store in Regent Street is buzzing with excitement as the presentation of Holmes’ latest collection is showcased throughout the day. Attendees of the event freely mingled around the open space, their attention drawn to the models wearing the garments. It differed from the usual hecticness of a catwalk, the presentation allowing the guests to admire the clothing up close instead of the fleeting performance of the runway.
My job for the day is relatively straightforward. Distribute the press releases to attendees, make sure that everyone adheres to their designated time slots and keep track of all the glass champagne flutes being given out throughout the day. It didn’t take a lot out of me which my lingering hangover is grateful for.
I’m standing passively at the back of the store after finishing another round of press releases, clipboard in hand, when a flash of platinum catches my attention.
Standing by the entrance and making idle conversation with guests is August, looking effortlessly dressed in a casual suit.
My heart stumbles at the sight of him.
He isn’t intentionally avoiding me but I can sense his reluctance to engage in conversation as he mingled with the other guests. He’d been present in the store since the presentations started and we’d awkwardly skirted around each other all morning.
Our eyes meet again and his gaze lingers longer than usual.
Taking this as a sign, I summon all my courage and take a deep breath as I begin making my way towards August.
He glances in my direction as I approach him, eyes flitting quickly to look me up and down. I see the faintest hint of apprehension before it hardens over.
“August,” I call his name out quietly. “Are you free to talk?”
He hesitates for a moment, gaze flickering, and I nervously fidget with the clipboard.
“Snaps!”
A bright and cheery voice bounces off the walls of the store and a cluster of heads turn towards the sound. A woman with dark brown eyes and sleek black hair cascading down to her waist approaches August and I.
“Sakura?” August blinks, clearly surprised to see her.
“In the flesh.”
Sakura Saito is the youngest of five, the only daughter of one of the most renowned jewellers in Japan. I stare at the Japanese heiress, stunned by the dimples adorning her symmetrical facial features.
“What are you doing here?” August asks.
“Your beloved girlfriend was the one that dragged me out,” Sakura replies, nodding towards Valentina.
Smiling brightly, the heterochromia-eyed model approaches us with a shy expression on her face.
My breath catches in my throat as I glance at August.
Girlfriend.
Valentina laughs then, her tone light.
“We wanted to show our support, silly.”
It dawns on me.
His hesitation. The avoidance, the conflicted look in his eyes. Last night’s event is a hazy blur and I can barely recall what he said to me but I do remember his refusal.
“Mahalia.” A pause. “No.”
August didn’t mention having a girlfriend. But he didn’t mention nothaving one either.
My mind flashes back to the day of my interview at the gallery showroom at Holmes, his casual comments about Valentina. August doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to openly discuss his personal life with strangers. So understandably, he would keep certain aspects of his life a secret.
Of course, the August Vante would have a girlfriend.
And of course, it would be Valentina de Hauretto.
“Sakura and I studied photography in MIDAS.” August begins to explain.
“I majored in Business and did my minor in Photography,” Sakura nods, glancing over at me. “The opposite of Snaps here.”
“We were in the same academic year,” August continues but his words barely register in my brain.
My head suddenly feels all too light whilst my chest feels heavy as I grapple with the fact that I kissed August when he’s involved with Valentina.
“You should see his work!” Sakura nudges August playfully. “He’s good in front and behind the camera.”
My stomach lurches as I nod robotically, not entirely sure how to navigate the conversation.
“She already has,” August adds, clearing his throat.
Everyone’s gaze falls on me.
“Oh?” Valentina and Sakura chorus.
Their attention shifts to August, expressions carrying a mix of surprise and curiosity before their gaze lands on me again.
“Just… some cityscapes of New York and London,” I reply, delicately. “Some portrait work too, you both looked stunning in the black and white photoshoot.”
I turn towards Valentina who flashes me a warm smile, my hands twitching anxiously.
“You’re so sweet, thank you.” She grins and I almost want to cry at how genuine she is. “That shoot is one of my all-time favourites.”
Sakura watches me intently, her gaze flickering between August and I.
“So you’ve seen both past and present work,” She deduces. “Interesting.”
I try not to panic, stealing a glance at August and wondering if I’ve said the wrong thing.
“Mahalia, isn’t it?” Valentina acknowledges me, her smile unwavering. “You were backstage at the Holmes show. I saw you at the dinner.”
I nod, my throat tight. “Hallie.”
“She’s one of our designers,” August adds.
Sakura is still watching me, eyes assessing. “Vante?”
“Holmes,” I reply. “I’m a Design Intern.”
“You’ve worked with Sebastian?” She asks.
I shake my head. “I only started last month. I’m helping out with the Comms side of things at the moment.”
“So you’re working with August,” She muses, directing her gaze towards him.
Sakura gives him a knowing look which August returns with a hardened gaze. Valentina is nothing but polite, including me in conversation as the three of them chat like old friends. It’s stifling as I stand by, feeling like a spectator in a situation that I don’t fully comprehend.
“Oh, Lulu’s here!” Sakura points out excitedly, tugging on Valentina’s arm. “Babe, let’s go.”
“That woman has been impossible to reach lately,” Valentina adds.
She leans over to August, her voice low as she whispers something and I avert my gaze, feeling the jagged realisation prick itself further in my stomach. It takes them more than an instance to break apart and I do my best not to intrude in their intimate moment.
“Vee!”
Sakura marches back over, dragging Valentina to where the fashion critic is currently in conversation with another familiar face belonging to the heir of the Italian fashion house.
Dazed, I turn towards August.
“Mahalia, last night–” he begins.
“I didn’t know, I swear.” I rush to interject, my voice betraying my distress. “If I did, I wouldn’t have– I didn’t mean– I’m so sorry.”
God. I’m such an idiot.
My mind races, each thought vying for attention as I consider the possible ramifications of my actions.
August looks puzzled, eyebrows knotting as he opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off, my words tumbling out.
“I’m not that kind of person. I-I know it’s my fault and I take full responsibility for initiating the kiss but I swear I didn’t know,” I continue. “I don’t want any trouble, August. It won’t happen again. I’m not… The last thing I want is to cause any problems. I won’t— I’ll stay out of your way, I promise.”
The expression on August’s face morphs into confusion and concern.
“What are you—”
“Hallie, can you come help in the back?” Ymir’s voice crackles through the walkie-talkie and I’m thankful for the diversion.
“I really am sorry, August.” I swallow, feeling my chest tighten even more.
Without hesitating, I dash towards the back office of the store.