Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Astrid
My studio was a chaotic explosion of fabric scraps, shoes, garment bags, and rolling racks, outfits on hangers everywhere, ready to be triple checked. But I ignored all that in an attempt to focus on the gorgeous model in front of me.
She inspected herself in the mirror while I studied the back of her dress. Something was off with the fit... specifically around the waist.
"Can you please turn for me?" I asked.
My favorite model Harper did a slow twirl, the rest of the dress hugging her curves perfectly. At least I had that. But it wasn't good enough. I wanted perfection. I needed perfection.
When she stopped in front of me, I crouched down to tug at the seam, then pinched a section in the back to pin it. "I think another quarter inch here will do it."
A few more pins in the hem, and we were done. Now I just had to fix it. And a million other things. And figure out what to do about some shoes that hadn't shipped on time. And finalize hair. And makeup. And accessories. And—
Katie handed me a bottle of cold water and ordered me to sit down. "Drink. Hydrate. Grab a break before the next one comes in."
Too exhausted to argue, I did as she said, taking a few long sips of the water, vowing to catch up on sleep when this was all over.
One more week. One more week! Oh, my God.
My phone made a noise, but I had no idea where it was. After digging through some fabric swatches on a table, Katie held it up triumphantly. "Found it!"
She was the absolute best. "What would I do without you, Katie?"
"Not sure. And hopefully you'll never find out. Because I am never ever ever leaving your side."
For some reason, that made me emotional, and I swallowed back a lump as she handed me my phone.
And then that emotion was quickly replaced, my pulse taking off when I saw who had messaged me. It was Tristan.
All I'd been able to think about for days was what he'd said to me before I'd rushed to get off the phone.
The last thing I want to do is mislead someone, make them think I'm interested in them just to get laid, and then ghost them.
The words rang around in my head relentlessly, haunting me, because did he somehow know?
Did he know that was my plan? Well, sort of my plan. I hadn't exactly figured out the end to this whole thing. Whenever I thought about it, I just felt sick to my stomach.
For as far back as I could remember, I'd never acted that way or been intentionally mean to someone.
But... I would do it. Even if it felt foreign to me. Because this was Tristan Hawthorne we were talking about here. Tristan D. Hawthorne.
Despite how nice he seemed now, the sweet way he held my hand, the charming words that came out of his mouth, and how caring he was with his brother, I still couldn't find it in myself to forgive him for what he'd done.
With a sigh, I read the text he'd just sent me. "Hey, baby. Hope you're doing okay. I miss talking to you."
It'd been a few days since our last talk, but it really was because I was insanely busy right now.
Phone still in my hand, as if he knew I was right there reading and thinking about him, he wrote me again.
"I know you're busy with fashion week, so just call me whenever you can. Even if it's just for a second, it would make my day."
I smiled. Damn it. I smiled.
For the millionth time, I thought about how smooth he was. Too smooth.
But I really should talk to him, not let so much time pass between phone calls, remembering my plan, my strategy.
Make him fall for me.
"Are you around late tonight?" I wrote. "I can talk when I'm done with work."
It was a Friday night so he probably had plans. Maybe with another woman, maybe even with someone I hated, one of my old bullies. Wouldn't that be ironic?
"Call me any time. Three in the morning. I don't care. I'll pick up for you."
Okay, so maybe no plans then. Why did that make me happy?
The next model showed up, and the rest of the day and well into the night was spent in a whirlwind of craziness. Working on pure adrenaline, I kept up the pace, Katie running next door to grab us food and always making sure I stayed hydrated. She was big on that for some reason.
I made a mental note to give her an even bigger bonus for helping me through all of this. Plus a nice long vacation.
So by the time I arrived home, changed, and made myself comfortable, it was nearly midnight. Not quite the three in the morning Tristan had referred to, but still very late to call someone.
He'd said to call him, though, and quite frankly, I was a little bored and restless, the remnants of all that adrenaline still coursing through my body, leaving me keyed up and fidgety.
So why not?
Sitting on my bed, fluffy socks on, I leaned back and took a breath. And then I dialed.
He picked up immediately. "Hey, Rina."
I laughed. "Not Rina."
"Damn. Oh, well, I'll get it someday."
"You can try," I teased.
There was a chirping noise, coming from his end, that sounded like a smoke alarm with a dying battery.
"Ugh," Tristan groaned. "Did you hear that?"
"I did. What's going on?"
"It's my carbon monoxide monitor that I'm about ready to smash to pieces with a hammer."
Something Ethan had texted me earlier today popped into my head, that I'd hear his latest masterpiece the next time I talked to Tristan, urging me to call him soon.
Was this it?
"Did you change the battery?" I asked.
"There is no battery," he growled.
"No battery? Then why is it chirping?"
"The hell if I know. I had to get out a tall ladder to even get up there, only to twist the damn thing off, and guess what? No battery compartment. It's hardwired."
CHIRP
I stifled a laugh. "Maybe it's malfunctioning?"
"That's what I thought too. So I cut power to it at the breaker. Still chirping. And then I called building maintenance. They have no idea either and told me it'd have to wait until morning."
This had to be Ethan's handiwork. This kind of annoyance had his name written all over it. "Have you tried—"
CHIRP
"I've tried everything," Tristan groaned, clearly being driven to insanity. "Disconnected it, smashed the reset button, even wrapped it in two bath towels and shoved it in a drawer. The damn thing still chirps, through the towels, from the other end of my apartment."
I bit my lip. "That's... wow. What a pain. How's Archie dealing with it?"
"He's not here right now. He's actually spending the night at a friend's house tonight."
"He is? That's great."
CHIRP
"Oh, my God," Tristan said. "I think I have to throw this thing out the window. Or get the hell out of here and spend the night in a hotel."
"Oh, no."
Did I feel a teensy bit bad about it? Maybe. Or maybe it was just annoying the crap out of me now too. So I texted Ethan, asking if he could turn it off. I had no idea how he had hacked into it, or now that it was disconnected if he could even fix it. But it was worth a try.
CHIRP
"Hotel it is," Tristan said, the sound of drawers opening and closing in the background.
Was he seriously packing?
"Done," Ethan replied.
I held my breath, waiting, kind of like when you had the hiccups and you thought they might be gone but you weren't one-hundred percent sure yet.
Silence. More silence. Even Tristan was quiet, pausing in his packing apparently.
"Dare I hope?" he whispered.
Still no chirp. I should have had faith in Ethan. If he said it was a done deal, he meant it.
Tristan let out an exhausted breath. "Oh, my God. I think it stopped. What the actual hell?"
I smiled to myself. "Better now?"
"I was about five seconds away from losing my goddamn mind. What just happened though? Why would it randomly stop like that?"
"Uh... maybe it just needed time to reset?"
He exhaled again. "Yeah, maybe. Or maybe the sadistic little ghost in here finally decided to leave me alone."
Letting out a laugh, I leaned back. "That's definitely it. Ghosts can be tricky like that."
I glanced at my phone, a new message from Ethan popping up on my screen. "Hope you enjoyed the show," he wrote, along with a winky face emoji.
Quickly, I texted him back, calling him an evil genius, which he most certainly was. But it was also time to turn my full attention back to Tristan and get my own plan back on course.
"So now that we can actually focus," I began, "you said Archie's away for the night?"
"Yeah, at a friend's, and I can't sleep, worrying that he's going to start a fire or cause a flood or sneak out and join a cult or—"
My laughter interrupted his worrying rant. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Do you know the other kid?"
"I've met him a few times and met the parents." His voice dropped lower. "Don't tell anyone but I did a background check on the parents."
"You what?" I gasped.
"Yeah, I mean, this is serious shit. What if they're criminals or have ties to the Russian mafia or they're harboring illegal exotic animals or they host secret fight clubs—"
I cracked up laughing again. "Oh, my God."
"And I might be tracking Archie's whereabouts via his phone and making sure he doesn't go anywhere he's not supposed to."
"What if he doesn't take his phone with him though?" I asked in a teasing voice.
Tristan scoffed. "His phone is pretty much glued to his fingertips. But if I have to, I'll send a drone to spy on the house."
That sent a shudder through my spine because what if Tristan decided to turn all this attention and hyper-focus on me?
"Wow, it seems like you have all your bases covered. And seriously, you have access to a drone?"
"Of course I do. It's just a phone call away. And I'm not afraid to use it."
I swallowed hard. Ethan and I needed to have a conversation very soon about what he was doing to cover my tracks and how secure I actually was. But for now, I needed to guide this phone call in a different direction.
"Well, maybe talking to me is the distraction you need," I said. "Because I'm sure he'll be fine. I had tons of sleepovers as a kid and nothing went wrong, and I guarantee you my parents didn't put in all the work you did."
"That's reassuring."