Epilogue
“Min! It’s out!” Liz exclaims.
“What’s out?”
“The December issue of Haute Couture Monde magazine.” I set down the knife I’m using to slice the carrot cake and wipe my hands on my apron. Liz practically shoves her phone under my nose. “Look! You made the cover!”
“The cover?”
“Yes, the cover!”
Taking the device from Liz’s hands, I stare at the screen.
Sure enough, there is a photo of me wearing the one-shoulder sapphire-blue evening gown I created for the Household Cavalry’s Studio 54 ball with Sam.
The caption reads, “Minerva. Designer, Dancer, It Girl. Meet the hot new junior designer taking the fashion world by storm.”
“I don’t believe it.” I stagger back into the island. “The reporter mentioned she was doing a story on Clarissa’s wedding. She never said anything about focusing on me or being on the cover.”
I continue to stare at the image. I’m on the cover of one of the most important magazines in the fashion industry. Me. A girl who eight months ago was worried about finding a job.
“Well, as the saying goes, seeing is believing!” Liz is beaming. “Go grab your coat and handbag. We’ll run down to Central London and go buy as many copies as we can find. Everybody is going to want one!”
On cue, my phone rings. Reaching into the pocket of my apron, I answer. “Hello?”
“Min! Have you seen the email blast from Haute Couture Monde?” Clarissa asks.
“I have. Liz just showed me the email.” I point to the phone and mouth Clarissa to Liz. She nods.
“Surprise and congratulations,” she gushes.
“Thank you, but I don’t understand. I thought the article was supposed to be on you?” I sputter.
“Er, I’m sorry we deceived you. That was a little fib Sonya concocted. She thought it would be less stressful if you didn’t know the magazine planned to write a feature story on you.”
“She was right,” I whisper.
“The editor of HC Monde was so taken by what you produced for the fall-winter collection that she found me right after the show and wanted to know all about who came up with the fresh new designs on the runway. I was thrilled to tell her they were done by you. I shared your story with her, and she decided on the spot you’d be the face of the end-of-the-year special issue. ”
My heart is pounding a mile a minute. “The face?”
“Uh-huh. I think the spread was supposed to be about ten pages long?”
“Whoa.”
“Did you reach her?” Sonya’s voice asks in the background.
“I did,” Clarissa says.
“Way to go, girl,” Sonya says. “You deserve this. We’re so proud of you.”
“Thanks,” I manage.
Clarissa and Sonya chat for a few more minutes, but none of the words register.
My entire body is shaking. It’s starting to hit me that readers around the world are going to see my name, my face, and my designs.
A tear rolls down my cheek. Then another.
And another. Everything Artem said to me five years ago has been vanquished.
I am a success. I’ve officially made it.
At some point, Liz takes my phone and wraps up the call on my behalf. She gives me a bone-crushing hug and hands me a box of tissues. “You know, you could have a poster-sized image of the cover made up to go next to your painting of Sam.”
“I don’t need a giant picture of myself.” I cackle.
A door opens and closes. “Min, I’m home,” Sam shouts. “I picked up the dog treats for Lillian, but I couldn’t find the brand of frosting that you wanted. So I got—” The items in his hands fall to the ground in a clatter. He rushes over to us. “Is everything all right? What’s happened?”
“I’m fine,” I croak out, looking at Sam’s concerned face over Liz’s shoulder. “These are happy tears.”
“Happy?”
Liz releases me and passes him her phone. “Your girlfriend is on the cover of one of the fashion industry’s largest publications!”
The deep-set frown on Sam’s face transforms into a wide, brimming smile. “Blimey, that’s brilliant! Well done, Min!” He returns the device to Liz and scoops me into a hug, spinning me around the room. We lean against the center island. “How should we celebrate?”
“How about by doing this.” I tilt my head up and meet his lips. He takes his arms and wraps them around me, pulling me tighter into his warm body. My arms slide around his neck. He responds by kissing me deeper. My heart is pounding in my chest. Happiness radiates through me.
Both Sam and I have had a wonderful last few months.
Our relationship has continued to grow as we’ve fallen deeper in love with one another.
He’s recently finished the non-commissioned officer’s course and is only a week or two away from officially becoming H-Cav’s newest riding master.
I couldn’t be any prouder of what my man has accomplished.
As we break apart, our noses nuzzle. I smell a few of the woody notes of Sam’s aftershave and a hint of gingerbread. “For real though, Min . . . this is something huge. Shall we go out to dinner tomorrow?”
“I’d like that.”
Liz dry coughs, reminding us she’s in the room. “I get the hint. I know you two need some alone time. I guess I’ll be going into town by myself to get those magazines.” She glances at her watch. “Is two hours enough?”
“It should be.” I giggle.
“Don’t forget that McMillian and Alice will be over at four and your sisters are coming down from your father’s place on the five p.m. train into Paddington.”
“We won’t,” Sam says.
“Have fun, kids.” Without turning around, Liz exits the kitchen, leaving us alone.
“Now where were we?” Sam asks.
“At the part where you were going to plant a trail of kisses up my neck.”
“Right, how could I forget?”
Later that evening, I stand backstage, proudly watching Celine and the other members of the Gloucester Gate Dance Studio’s intermediate/advanced ballet class change formations in “Waltz of the Flowers.” It’s the school’s annual Nutcracker show and one of its largest fundraisers of the year.
“Thanks again for agreeing to do this.” I hug Corinne.
“Of course. It gave me the perfect excuse to pop over to London and see you.” I release her. “I just wish I could stay longer. There is so much we need to catch up on.”
These days, Corinne is now principal dancer with the LA City Ballet. If LABT hadn’t folded, she might still be dancing with them.
On a whim last month, I sent her a DM and asked if she might be willing to consider appearing as the guest principal dancer in the Gloucester Gate Dance Studio’s production of Nutcracker. To my shock, she immediately said yes.
Our conversations may have started out as being all business, but they quickly transformed into something much more personal.
There was a lot of emotional baggage to iron out, but I’m so happy we’ve been able to overcome our differences and reconnect.
It’s brought the closure to the LABT chapter of my life that I didn’t know I needed.
“Celine is the girl in the blue?” Corinne asks as she comes to stand beside me.
“Yes, she is.”
“She’s talented. Reminds me a lot of another dancer I know.” She elbows me.
My cheeks warm. “Maybe a few years ago, but I don’t dance like I did when I was in the corps.”
“No, you don’t.” Corinne grins. “You dance with so much more joy and freedom—like a principal dancer. If you ever consider making a comeback, the offer still stands. I’d be happy to talk to the AD at LA City Ballet.
Or if you want something closer to home, I have a few connections at the Westminster Ballet I could tap into. ”
“I’m flattered, but no. Finding my way back into a company isn’t my dream anymore.
” My gaze travels out to the front row of the audience, where Sam is sitting with Sarah, Liz, McMillian, and Alice.
My dream nowadays is to continue to live my best life as a designer, surrounded by my loving friends and family.
“Everything I need and want is right here.”
“I understand.” Corrine reaches for my hand and squeezes it. “I’m just happy to see you happy.”
“I’m so much more than that, I’m thriving.”
Gladys, the owner of the studio, claps her hands softly and signals for everyone to find their places for the finale.
“Merde,” I say to Corinne, and leave her to find the other members of the studio’s adult class, who, like me, are all dressed as snowflakes in white tutus.
As I listen to the excited chatter of children, teens, and adults around me, I realize that my life has come full circle. If Artem were around, I’m happily march up to him and say, “Look at me now. I’m Minerva Hana and I am the ‘It Girl.’”