Chapter 17
ADRIAN
The venue was massive even when empty. It was filled with workers constructing our vision for opening night.
It felt like controlled chaos. I stood at the edge of what would become our runway, watching teams hang lights, position cameras, and test the screens that would display each look as the models walked.
Two days until showtime. Forty-eight hours until we either proved ourselves or crashed spectacularly.
I barely slept last night, my mind cycling through every possible disaster scenario. What if the livestream failed? What if a model no-showed? What if the critics hated everything we’d worked on for months?
But when Elizabeth had texted this morning some of that anxiety had eased.
Having her with me and getting to see her excitement made the whole thing feel less overwhelming.
It was almost like having a security blanket.
In the midst of a hundred people, I had someone.
I couldn’t remember a time I had someone.
I had my brothers, but we were a group. No one was just for me.
Elizabeth was mine.
What?
What the fuck?
Mine?
The thought triggered an onslaught of panicked thoughts, but I didn’t have time to deal with any of them. I would have to think about it later. No one had scheduled any time for me to have a mental crisis.
I left the venue and headed to the office where Elizabeth would be meeting me. She arrived at the workshop right on time, wearing jeans and a simple black top, her hair already pulled back practically. She looked ready to work, not just observe.
“Good morning.” I leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek.
I would love to give her a much dirtier kiss, but I did have to maintain a modicum of professionalism.
“Morning.” Her smile was bright and I could see the excitement in her eyes as she looked around the space. It was nearly the entire floor of the building. There were people sewing. Dress forms. Shelves filled with fabric rolls. And an entire wall full of notions.
It was a place where ideas became real and she was obviously loving it. “Where do you need me?”
Annika appeared at my elbow, arms full of fabric. “Elizabeth! Perfect timing. I could use an extra set of hands with the final fittings. Models start arriving in twenty minutes.”
“I’m all yours,” Elizabeth said immediately.
“I’ll find you in a bit,” I said. “I need to make a few calls.”
I wasn’t sure if she even heard me. “Okay. I’m good.”
I almost laughed. She may as well have shooed me away.
By the time I made it back to the fitting area an hour later, Elizabeth was in her element.
She knelt beside a model wearing one of our Legacy collection pieces. It was a reimagined version of one of Dad’s designs from fifteen years ago. The original had been a structured cocktail dress in black. Our version maintained the silhouette but updated it with a modern touch.
Elizabeth had pins between her lips, her hands moving confidently as she adjusted the hem. “Walk for me?” she said around the pins. The model complied, strutting a few steps.
“Better,” Annika confirmed. “But the left side is still sitting weird.”
Elizabeth studied the dress, tilted her head, then reached up to adjust something at the model’s hip. Whatever she did worked. The fabric suddenly draped perfectly, moving with the model’s body instead of against it.
“There,” Elizabeth said, satisfaction clear in her voice. “That’s it.”
This version of Elizabeth was so different from the terrified woman who’d frozen during photoshoots. Here, doing actual design work, she was transformed. She was confident. In her element.
“Adrian.” Her face lit up when she spotted me. She pulled the pins from her lip and poked them into the pin cushion on her wrist. “What do you think?”
“Perfect,” I answered. And I wasn’t talking about the dress alone.
“These pieces are so pretty. I love that they’re old and new at the same time.”
“The theme of opening night is Legacy,” I explained. “It’s about honoring where we came from while moving forward. Each dress is based on one of my father’s iconic designs, but we’ve modernized them. Updated silhouettes, new materials, contemporary construction techniques.”
“That’s genius! You’re proving that Blackwell Couture’s vision survives across generations. I love it!”
“Exactly.” I had explained the concept to dozens of people but Elizabeth understood without needing me to walk her through it.
“Sebastian’s hosting London with Decadence as his theme.
Briggs has Paris with Love. Dash gets Milan with Seduction.
Then we all come back to New York for the finale, which will synthesize all the themes. ”
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. “Your dad would be so proud.”
“I hope so,” I said quietly. “Annika, do you have the portfolio?”
Annika nodded and gestured with her head. She had a strip of glittery lace between her lips.
I spotted the tablet and quickly grabbed it. I pulled up the dresses we were going to be featuring in the show alongside the inspirations for the new designs.
Elizabeth took the tablet and started swiping through the images. She made little sounds that, because I’m that guy, reminded me of sex. To be fair, I had heard some of those noises come out of her mouth while we did the deed.
“This is incredible,” she murmured. “I mean, wow. I can’t believe I’m getting to see this in person. The designs are stunning. Did you do this?”
I shrugged. “I had a hand in it.”
“These are going to be a hit. I love classic looks. And your father always managed to pull off timeless elegance in his designs.”
Everyone told me how much they loved the designs but hearing her say it felt different. It felt real.
“Elizabeth!” one of the other designers called from across the room. “Can you look at this neckline? It’s puckering.”
She glanced at me for permission.
I laughed and nodded. “Go. Help where you can. That’s why you’re here.”
I expected her to be tentative, to need constant guidance. Instead, she dove in like she’d been working Fashion Week her whole life.
I found myself watching her more than the actual fittings.
The way she complimented the models even though they were just doing their job had me smiling.
I watched as she listened when Annika gave direction, then contributed her own ideas.
She looked more beautiful than any of the professional models in the room.
And I was in a room full of barely clothed supermodels.
Any other day, I’d be reviewing each look clinically with a professional eye. Today, I couldn’t take my eyes off Elizabeth. She wasn’t trying to be sexy or alluring. She was just doing what she loved, and it was the most attractive thing I’d ever seen.
“You’re staring,” Dash said, appearing at my elbow with his usual terrible timing.
“I’m observing the fitting process.”
“Uh huh. And by ‘fitting process’ you mean Elizabeth’s ass in those jeans.”
I shot him a look. “Shouldn’t you be managing the tech setup?”
“Already done. Everything’s tested and working perfectly.” He leaned against the wall beside me, following my gaze. “She’s good at this. Like, actually good. Not just playing around. She knows what she’s doing.”
He wasn’t wrong. Elizabeth was currently explaining something about dart placement to a junior designer, using her hands to demonstrate how the fabric should move over the body’s curves.
“Chris told me she was talented,” I said. “I’m starting to think he undersold her. I can’t believe no one has snatched her up. She’s going to be big in this industry.”
“You going to keep her on after this whole fake engagement thing ends?”
After it ends.
Right.
Because this arrangement had an expiration date. In less than a month, Elizabeth and I would stage our amicable breakup, she’d get her job, and we’d go back to being… what? Colleagues? Acquaintances?
The thought made something twist unpleasantly in my gut.
“Of course,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “I promised her a position. I always keep my promises.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Dash’s voice was uncharacteristically serious. “I meant are you going to keep her close, or are you going to stick her in some junior role where you never have to see her?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you’re already in too deep, and we both know it.” He pushed off the wall. “Just figure out what you want before this gets messier than it already is.”
He left before I could respond, which was probably smart because I didn’t have a response.
Was I in too deep?
I watched Elizabeth laugh at something one of the models said. She wiped her cheek where some chalk dust had been sitting for the last fifteen minutes. She glanced over her shoulder and caught me watching. Did she feel my eyes on her? She flashed a quick smile and went back to work.
Yeah. I was definitely in too deep.
If Chris hadn’t suggested his sister and I’d gone with some professional actress or a stranger, the situation would all be so much simpler. Clear boundaries and no complications.
But then I wouldn’t have met Elizabeth. I wouldn’t have the strange feeling in my chest every time she looked at me.
I felt a little bad about sleeping with my friend’s sister. That was a line I’d never thought I would cross. But after watching Elizabeth work, seeing her in her element, being near her? Wild horses couldn’t stop me from being with her now.
I headed over to where she was working, unable to stay away any longer.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
She looked up, and the smile she gave me was different from the professional one she’d been giving everyone else. This one was just for me—warm and a little bit wicked, like she was remembering our time together.
“It’s going great. These dresses are incredible, Adrian.” She gestured at the garment she was adjusting. “This is why I wanted to work in fashion. This level of craft.”
“You’re fitting in pretty well.” I kept my voice low, aware of all the people around us. “Annika’s impressed. She told me you caught three potential issues before they became problems.”
She shrugged modestly. “I’m just doing what I can to help.”
“You’re doing more than that.” I wanted to touch her and pull her close. Instead, I slid my hands in my pockets. “Thank you for being here. For wanting to be part of this.”
“Are you kidding? This is a dream.” She glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “Though I’m having trouble concentrating when you keep looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re remembering what I look like without these jeans on.”
Heat shot through me. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m being completely professional.”
“Sure you are.” She turned back to her work, but I could see her fighting a smile.
Before I could respond to that, Annika called for her help with another fitting, and Elizabeth moved away, leaving me standing there like an idiot with my heart racing and my dick semi-hard.
Two more days until opening night.
What scared me was figuring out what happened after everything ended. I had spent the last year playing it safe and being responsible. I hadn’t bothered dating because it felt like it would be a distraction. But maybe it could be a bonus.
Elizabeth understood what I did on a level no one else I ever dated did or ever would. She would understand the three-day work marathons before a show. She would understand the risk of stepping outside the fashion box.
She would be a partner in every sense of the word.