27. Henry
HENRY
I’m moving before I even register it. Cosmo wants to accept the award on Vue’s behalf. That’s fine but pretending it was all him? Not happening.
“…and that was my goal from the beginning,” he says, voice dripping smug. “To redefine how fashion connects to culture—”
I yank the microphone from his hand. He stumbles back, startled.
“Vue’s comeback is because of Natalie Wright,” I say. “Her vision. Not yours.”
There’s a collective gasp. Phones lift, flashes go off but I don’t care.
He’s not taking credit for her work while she sits there pretending she’s fine.
I know she’s not. If she were angry, maybe I could let it go.
But she looks sad and I can’t stomach that.
Not when it’s the man who doubted her standing up here, soaking in the applause.
Cosmo recovers fast. He reaches for the microphone. I let him take it.
“Yes, of course,” he says smoothly. “It was a team effort. Let’s have a round of applause for Natalie…who’s part of the team.”
The applause that follows is polite, but thin. Nowhere near what she deserves.
I take the mic back. “From what I’ve heard, it wasn’t much of a team effort. It was her.”
Cosmo’s smile stays fixed, but his eyes sharpen. He plucks the mic from my hand.
“And where did you hear that?” he asks, voice still smooth but colder now.
My stomach flips. I hesitate. He holds the microphone out toward me like a dare and when I don’t take it, his smile twitches.
“Exactly,” he says easily.
I start to step back, but he follows. “Seems Carter’s getting desperate. Can’t stand a little competition—”
That does it.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” I cut in, grabbing the mic again. “You’re no threat to us. But she is. I’ve seen what she can do. I’ve seen all of it. And you have no right taking credit for her work.”
Cosmo doesn’t flinch. He just reaches for the mic again, voice smooth but venom creeping in.
“You have no idea what goes on at Vue. Or with my Natalie.” He waves a dismissive hand, gesturing toward the wings. “So why don’t you run along?”
I snap the mic back before he can pull away.
“I think it’s you who has no idea,” I say. “She’s my Natalie.”
That stops everything. The room freezes. Cosmo jolts like I’ve struck him. He blinks, then looks out at the crowd, trying to recover, but it’s too late. Camera’s flash again and the story’s already being written before anyone fully understands what just happened.
“You and Natalie?” Cosmo says, turning toward her. The silence that follows is different this time. Somehow colder, heavier. You can almost hear the shift as people put the pieces together. Heads turn toward her table, toward me. Then the whispers start.
Without another word, Cosmo walks off the stage.
I clear my throat. “That concludes our evening,” I manage. “Thank you.”
I glance toward her table. People are swarming, faces lit by phone screens, questions already flying. Before I can move toward her, Rebecca gets there first and guides her toward the exit.
There’s nothing I can do now. I just stand there. That wasn’t the plan. Hell, there was no plan. I don’t even know what I thought would happen. Just that I couldn’t stand there and watch him take what was hers.
Natalie told me not to make headlines. I think I’ve done worse than that. I made her the headline.