Chapter 47
Sky
The frosty wind chills my fingers, even through my gloves. With the hood of my winter jacket pulled low over my face, I peek around the corner.
Up ahead is the entrance for the competition participants. The show starts in an hour, and so far, there's been no sign of Touch av lyx.
What if my father withdrew our submission? Maybe without telling Lil because he's probably found out about our reconciliation.
Hope surges within me. This is a significant step for me to take. Doing it without being in direct competition with Touch av lyx makes it easier.
Yet the fear remains. The fear of how my father will react to the end of my hiding game. The fear of his judgment regarding my aspirations as a designer. And the fear that the man this message needs to reach might not be here.
Aurora confirmed that she spoke to him personally when submitting her anonymous tip.
Even though he can't know what I'm planning, he's guaranteed to know he's supposed to meet me here today. And that alone might deter him from coming.
I clutch the travel bag containing the strappy stilettos, the flat iron, sewing supplies, makeup, and all the stuff for my model Inga's hairstyle. The dress, neatly wrapped in a protective cover, is held in my other hand. I push myself off the cold house wall and turn the corner. At the door, I show the ID sent to me by the organizers and slip into the dark warmth of the long hallway.
I leave my hood where it is and bury my face deeper in my scarf, just in case someone from Touch av lyx is here.
All bundled up, I walk down the hallway until I find the door with the name under which I submitted the design: Stj?rnor i skyn Designs .
Inevitably, I smile. Stars in the Sky Designs . No name could be more fitting.
Hopefully, Inga is already here. Lil finding her was an absolute stroke of luck. Her presence and her way of walking are perfect for my gown.
There's no reason to be nervous yet, but as I open the door, my pulse quickens. In a little over an hour, I'll step out of my father's shadow.
Inga isn't here yet. I set the travel bag down and hang the dress and my coat on the rack. While I wait for her, I get everything ready. I carefully inspect the seams and beadwork on the dress, then turn on the flat iron. As I gently steam the fabric, my gaze keeps darting to the clock.
Only forty-five minutes left until the show.
Inga should have been here long ago; after all, we still need to do her hair and makeup. Plus, I want to make sure the dress fits her figure perfectly.
Biting my lower lip, I set the flat iron aside and fish my phone out of my pocket to send her a message. Afterward, I stare at the display, only to realize that she hasn't read my question about when she'll arrive. Perhaps she's already on-site and struggling to find our dressing area amid the chaos?
Yes, that must be it. That's why she hasn't noticed my message. She's wandering around here somewhere amid the lighting and sound technicians, the people setting up the decor, and the other designers who, unlike me, have arrived with a whole team of assistants.
I need to find her because a perfectly ironed dress won't help me at all without a model.
I quickly slip through the door and start searching. I check the basement near the restrooms and the corridors where the technical rooms are located.
Nowhere do I find Inga.
I keep checking my phone. My message remains unread.
"Where are you?" I murmur, growing increasingly panicked.
This has to work. Every second of this evening is meticulously planned down to the last detail. There are only thirty minutes left, and I don't know how we'll manage to do everything in such a short time.
She'll have to do her hair herself. And her makeup too. In the meantime, I'll perfect the dress. Fortunately, we're second to last in the lineup. That should give us an extra... twenty minutes, maybe? Yes, that could work. But only if I finally find her.
With my heart pounding, I storm into the backstage area just behind the runway and search the crowd for Inga's long blond hair and her freckle-covered face. I push my way through, scanning even the audience area. There's Aurora, who's already secured a spot in the second row. My mother and Kjell are both missing.
My gaze flicks to the clock. The show starts in twenty minutes. Where is he?
Oh man, this is going to go wrong.
Neither my model nor the man whose heart I'm trying to win back has shown up yet.
Tears well up in my eyes. I blink them away. I haven't searched the entire backstage area yet. I'll even check the farthest corner behind the clothing racks, that's for sure.
I head straight for the back of the area, where there's a recess.
Suddenly, I see blond hair flash between people dressed in colorful attire. A moment later, a half face covered in freckles comes into view. It must be Inga.
"Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you," I exclaim, and I could cry again—this time out of relief.
Just a few steps, and she'll see me, and we can prepare for her performance.
And Kjell?
He'll come too. He has to!
I start running, but suddenly, a group of people gathers right in front of me, blocking my way.
Reluctantly, I veer to the right and walk right into a concrete wall.
This can't be happening.
"Skady Blohm," a deep voice behind me thunders, making me involuntarily flinch. "Did I not tell you not to show your face here again?"