Chapter 35
Sky
With two cups of coffee in hand, I stand outside Kahlo's studio. I would enter any other room without hesitation by now, but not here.
I clear my throat, take a deep breath, and close my eyes. Immediately, Kjell enters my thoughts. He smiles at me, too gently, much too gently. Get out of my mind; I need to focus , I silently admonish him.
Since our visit to my mother's yesterday, I've been trying to figure out if I've wrongly trusted him or not. Hopefully, I'll find the answer soon. But for now, I have to shake Kjell out of my head, as difficult as that is.
I cautiously tap my boot on the door.
"Yes?" Kahlo's voice comes from inside, so I awkwardly push the door handle down with my elbow and step in.
Smile, Sky, everything is fine. You can be friends; just act normal around him. It works with the other employees, after all.
His gaze shifts back and forth between me and the two coffee cups in my hands. He rises from his leather chair and rests his fingertips on the glass table. "What's up?"
"I thought we could have coffee together." I place the cups on his empty desk and look around. Three of the four walls are covered with floor-to-ceiling magnetic boards filled with designs and notes. In the midst of his studio stands a clothing rack with half-finished designs and a table overloaded with fabrics, beads, and appliqués.
It smells like fashion, pulsating with inspiration.
As a child, I loved this place almost more than my father's office. The walls here tell stories, the materials are full of potential, and on the clothing rack hangs what defines Touch av lyx from the inside.
"Is this a checkup?" I hear Kahlo grumble amid my daydreaming.
I quickly shake my head. "Don't be silly," I reply in a reconciliatory tone and gesture to the visitor's seat. "May I sit?"
He sighs and sinks into his chair. "If you want."
I slide his cup across the table. "Black with three spoons of sugar."
For a moment, his expression softens, then it becomes guarded again. At least he wraps his fingers around the handle and pulls the cup closer. "So?"
My palms are sweaty, and my stomach is queasy. "It wasn't easy for me to come here," I admit openly.
He raises an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
"Yes." I try to find a comfortable position on my chair, which I fail to do. "Because I know you can't forgive me." I quickly raise my hands. "And I understand that."
With an impassive face, he watches me struggle with myself.
Showing vulnerability to him is difficult for me, even though in the past two weeks, I've experienced multiple times how good it feels for me and everyone else when I'm just being myself. I owe that solely to Kjell.
"I won't pressure you into anything," I continue with a trembling voice. "But I would be happy if we could find a way to work together."
"Work together?" He crosses his arms over his chest. "For what? So you can embarrass me again?"
"For what we both love the most," I reply with all the conviction that resides within me. "For T ouch av lyx ."
He shakes his head imperceptibly. "If Gustav knew what you're doing here... he would..."
No, I don't want to know. My worry about not living up to his wishes is already great enough without Kahlo's threats. "Let's let him decide when he wakes up," I suggest. "Both of us can only try to keep things running for now."
Once again, he falls silent, and his expression reminds me of a spoiled child who isn't getting what he wants.
"We're doing this for Father," I add insistently, hoping it will change his mind.
That, and the knowledge of what I'm sacrificing just to be here. The fact that I hide at home in my spare time. That I even disguise myself when driving, even though no one can see my face through the tinted windows.
He knows what's at stake for me.
An impatient grunt escapes his lips, and then he leans over the desk toward me. "Why should I trust you?"
That question is justified. Back in New York, I hurt him deeply, and that wound will never heal. "I've learned from my mistake. I won't do anything that could harm the company—or you."
He studies me for seconds.
"Please, Kahlo."
He puckers his lips, then exhales forcefully. "Fine, we'll discuss it. But if we disagree, I have the final say," he continues with a threatening tone.
I should say no now. Because Father would surely jump up in anger and remind Kahlo that he has done a lot for Touch av lyx , but Touch av lyx has done just as much for him. And that Kahlo is only a designer, not the boss.
"Okay," I say nonetheless, because I see it differently. Only if I make concessions too, we will reach our goal.
A mixture of surprise and satisfaction flits across his gaunt face.
"All right. Tell me how far you've gotten with the designs for the competition." That's why I came here. It's mid-January, and in four weeks at the latest, we need to submit our design, and I have no idea if Kahlo has even started yet.
For a moment, he hesitates. "You better not disappoint me," he says, then stands up and signals for me to follow him. He stops in front of a magnetic board on the opposite wall. "Take a look."
So he has already given it some thought. That's a good sign. It means he supports the idea. And if he endorses it, Father will approve too. The two of them always see eye to eye.
I study the three sketches hanging among all the pictures of Hollywood stars at Oscar ceremonies that seem to inspire him. The first dress is extremely plain, the second is overloaded with pearls, and the third looks like it would only look good on Queen Silvia.
"Mm-hmm," I say thoughtfully because I'm not sure how to react to the designs. Should I tell him that, in my opinion, the perfect design isn't among these yet? Kjell would do it. Most likely.
But is it the right thing to do? Would it be too much truth all at once?
"I'm still working on it," he says, putting his hands in his pockets and standing with his legs apart. "These are just initial ideas."
I strain to find an element I can admire, but I can't find one. So I let my gaze wander over the Hollywood stars, and soon the gathering of a dress catches my attention. "This one is nice, don't you think?" I tap on the detail.
He grunts, half agreeing, half grumbling. He doesn't like me making suggestions, but he seems to like the gathering as well.
I feel a smile spreading across my face because his somewhat mild reaction is the next sign that we might actually be at the beginning of a shared journey. I shouldn't ruin that by putting pressure on him. Nobody can work well under pressure, and if anyone knows that, it's me.
"Nice," I say, turning to him with a radiant smile. "I'm looking forward to what you'll create. I'm sure it will be fantastic."
He didn't expect that, I can tell by his wide-eyed expression. His lips move, but he can't find the words.
"Would you let me know when you have something to show?" I ask in a friendly manner, and at that moment, I realize that I'm no longer nervous. I just speak my mind without weighing whether it's right or wrong.
A warm feeling washes over me, and it becomes even warmer when Kahlo answers my question with a nod.
"Thank you," I say and turn to leave. "Have a nice day."
"Yeah... um... you too," he stammers in farewell.
I give him one last smile and exit his studio. The door closes behind me, and I suppress a shout of joy. I dance down the hallway, feeling as light and free as I have in a long time.
This is going to be good. I can feel it. Kahlo and I are taking Touch av lyx to the next level. We're bringing the label to Hollywood.
Father will be thrilled! If only he would wake up already. His coma has lasted way too long. Still, I refuse to give up hope that it could happen any day now.
During my visits, I tell him everything. Sometimes he's gruff, but most of the time, I persuade him to set aside his grumbling and give my ideas a chance. Then he smiles in my imagination, places his hand on my shoulder, and nods proudly.
I almost tear up as I imagine that he might actually do that one day—maybe very soon. Everything will be alright between us. We can start anew and achieve great things together for the label.
I owe it all to Kjell.
"But someone's in a good mood," Lil says.
I stop my twirl and look around.
Lil leans against the staircase railing, watching me with a grin.
"Absolutely," I confirm.
She comes over, links her arm with mine, and walks with me down the corridor. "Are Kahlo's designs for the Oscar dress that amazing, or why are you radiating like this?"
"He's working on it," I reply vaguely. It wouldn't be right to criticize his designs to Lil. I didn't have the courage to tell him my opinion directly, so I shouldn't confide it in anyone else either. "But he has some great ideas."
We reach the small coffee kitchen found on every floor of the skyscraper. "Oh, really?"
I lean against the wide windowsill. The rooftops of the city are covered in a thick layer of snow, and the branches of the trees in front of Touch av lyx 's main entrance glisten frostily.
Instinctively, I scan the surroundings for reporters who might be lurking outside.
"Of course, you can't say much in the early stages, but we have a detail that could be developed," I murmur absentmindedly. At that moment, I spot a man behind a bare bush.
Who is that?
Does he have a camera in his hand?
With bated breath, I press myself against the wall, feeling my upper body stiffen.
He steps aside.
No camera.
Just his hands, zipping up his pants.
Thank goodness.
Suddenly, Lil is next to me, nudging me. "Did you just say we ?"
"Hm?" I tear myself away from the window.
"You and Kahlo, developing ideas together?" Lil asks excitedly, and suddenly, I'm back in the conversation.
"Mm-hmm," I reply. My cheeks are flushed. "Isn't it incredible?"
"Pretty incredible," she agrees. She fills two glasses with water and hands one to me. "And now you're also working together on the design?"
No. Unfortunately not. It would be a dream to create new designs together with him. To watch over his shoulder, to learn from him. But there's still a long way to go for that. Plus, I don't have the time for it anyway.
I wave it off. "We had just one idea that he'll be pursuing. That's all."
Lil joins me. "Well then, tell me."
I'm more than happy to do so. I talk about the ruching that caught my eye, and I see it again in my mind's eye. Along with it, a deep cut, the finest silk, perhaps a sheer element of tulle on the side. Dreamily, I rest my head against the windowpane and let my imagination run wild.
I get lost in it, repeatedly redesigning the dress in my thoughts. I change the length, the straps, the back, the embellishments. I add feathers, replace them with sequins, and experimentally lower the neckline.
Excitement washes over me. This could be beautiful.
Lil grins mischievously. "You should discuss it with Kahlo, don't you think?"
Yes, I could actually do that. Maybe I could even show him my designs and ask for his opinion. Perhaps they are actually good.
Kjell said they were great.
Kjell...
There it is again, that feeling like misty clouds, with the sun peeking through. That's exactly how it is with Kjell. Sometimes cloudy. But always so promising that I can't see the gray veils anymore.
"Is everything okay?" Lil reaches out her hand. "You don't have to, it was just an idea."
I gaze steadily at Lil. "How do you know if you can trust someone?"
She furrows her brow. "You mean Kahlo?"
I lower my eyes to my water, watching the movements of the surface and the moist shimmer it leaves at the edges. "No. I mean Kjell..."
Of course, Lil knows about him, just like Aurora. I told them both that we were together on ?land and that I never want to stop kissing him. That he changed my life—somehow. And that I constantly think about him.
"Is there trouble in paradise?"
I shrug. "I'm probably just imagining it." Hopefully that's the case. What we have is too beautiful not to be real.
My best friend moves closer to me. "What's wrong?" she asks lovingly, prompting me to tell her what happened during my visit to Abisko.
"What if he was eavesdropping?" I ask at the end. "What if he's somehow spying on me?"
My God, I sound as paranoid as Father. Nevertheless, the thought won't leave me alone.
"To do what?" Lil taps her chin thoughtfully with her index finger. "What would he gain from it?"
"That's the thing. I have no idea." I've thought about this question more than once. "Maybe he's just naturally distrustful?" That would be understandable given what he went through with his parents.
What if he just wants to make sure he can trust me?
"You've never lied to him," Lil responds, shaking her head. "Have you?"
"Not about a single thing." I don't need to say that that's actually way too much. Lil knows as well as I do how difficult it will be to convince Father that Kjell is trustworthy.
That will be the real challenge when he wakes up. Not the new path I've taken for Touch av lyx , but the fact that I let a man into my life.
Father will freak out. And he won't believe that I have it under control. That nothing bad will happen, even though I've fallen in love.
Because this is different. Kjell makes everything better. He makes me better.
Or is it just what I want to believe? What if he's playing a wicked game with me, and I can't see it because of the hearts in my eyes?
"Oh God, what if he goes to the press with what he now knows about me?" I cover my mouth with my hands. If he does that, everything would be over.
My only chance would vanish into thin air.
I would have to leave the world I love so much and where I'm just beginning to find my footing once again. This time, maybe for good, and perhaps without the comforts my father granted me the first time around.
Lil strokes my back. "Why would he do that? He has no reason to," she replies in a gentle tone.
That's true, he doesn't. But he's a photographer, and he probably has many friends in the media. "What if he unintentionally let some information slip?"
When he's out with his friends, for example. They could pick up details, speculate, and suddenly I'm on the front page of a newspaper.
My throat tightens even further.
At the same time, I feel terrible for suspecting Kjell of something like this. I should trust him more. Except for the ransacked dresser in my childhood home's living room and the fact that he—possibly just by chance—was right outside the door where Mother and I had our reconciliation, there's nothing.
"No, that's crazy," I say firmly, clenching my fists. "It's been weeks since I told him my story, and nothing bad has happened since then."
Lil nods thoughtfully.
"That's how it is, right?" I look at her intently. "Kjell feels as intense emotions as I do. Love means trust; understandably, it's difficult for him, so he sometimes acts strangely. There's nothing more to it."
"That's entirely possible," Lil agrees, but I can tell from her expression that she's uncertain.
I force a smile. "No, it's highly likely."
It's the best explanation for everything that has happened. I should be ashamed of even thinking otherwise.