Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Coming up with an outfit that looked effortlessly chic while still being age-appropriate and timelessly beautiful was no small feat.
Blaise stood in front of her open closet, hands planted on her hips. A rainbow of fabrics and textures stared back at her—chiffon, linen, soft cotton, and silk. All things she’d collected over the years, all things she hadn’t been able to part with.
In her previous life, she’d never hesitated over what to wear. Clothes had been part of her job. She’d lived in front of a camera, striding down runways with confidence so fierce it practically counted as armor.
But that was then. This was years away from those days.
“Okay,” she muttered, squinting at a sea-blue caftan. “Age-appropriate, but…do I look like I’m attending a very glamorous bingo fundraiser?”
Beau, curled on the bed behind her, gave two tiny snorts. Unhelpful critic.
Blaise tried another approach. She pulled out cream-colored wide-leg linen pants and a crisp white blouse with a soft drape to the neckline. Stylish without being try-hard. She held them up to herself in the mirror, studying the reflection.
Still beautiful? Yes. But beautiful for whom? For her? For Maude’s camera?
For a world that preferred models barely out of high school?
She caught herself frowning and forced her shoulders back. The last things she needed were deeper smile lines and a slouch. She wasn’t a girl anymore, and she was fine with that.
She’d earned her lines, her stories, and her confidence the hard way. Now she needed the world to see that the woman she’d become was someone relatable, aspirational, and available for bookings, thank you very much.
The website Maude was working on was Blaise’s chance to present herself to the world again. A chance to land some lucrative speaking engagements, and possibly a memoir deal, if all the planets aligned and the proposal landed on the right desk.
And if she could pick up a few modeling gigs—modeling that required women like her: stylish, seasoned, and not ready to fade into background—she’d be all right with that, too.
She draped the blouse and pants over her arm and rummaged deeper into the closet, pulling out a fitted, slate-gray blazer. It was everything an Armani blazer should be—polished and powerful. The image of a woman who still had something to say.
“Yes,” she said under her breath. “This could work with a different background than the beach.”
Beau lifted his head, tail giving one approving thump.
“And maybe some shots in a sundress,” she added, reaching for a delicate coral one she hadn’t worn in years. “Something more carefree. Something to show that I have range and softness, too.”
She laid all the outfit options on the bed and smoothed out the fabric, imagining Maude’s friendly encouragement, the beach’s golden light, the beach breeze tugging at her hair.
She inhaled, slow and steady.
“You’ve done this a thousand times,” she reminded herself. “And this time, you’re doing it for you.”
Blaise grabbed a pair of neutral sandals and her favorite gold earrings and set them out as well, then put the sundress on.
She’d start with that, then she could put the blazer on over it for some more serious closeups.
She selected a few more pieces of jewelry to change into, along with her makeup bag for touchups, and a second pair of shoes.
Finally, she turned to Beau, who was still watching her like he knew exactly how nervous she felt.
“What do you think, handsome?” She gave his ears a scratch. “Think I can show the world I’m not done yet?”
Beau whuffed.
She nodded. “I know. I need to do my hair and makeup. But thanks for the vote of confidence.”
In the bathroom, Blaise leaned closer to the mirror, gently blending concealer beneath her eyes.
Maude had promised the lighting on the beach would be kind, but Blaise knew cameras had a way of catching every truth.
She added a touch of bronzer, some great mascara, blush and lipstick with just enough coral to brighten her face, made sure her brows were perfect.
She’d done this routine thousands of times. Only today, her hands weren’t as steady. Today, it was so much more important than simply running to the store or going to dinner with friends.
Beau snoozed on the bed, belly up, blissfully unaware of his human’s slight internal meltdown. Blaise blew out a breath and had reached for her powder when a knock on the door startled her so much she nearly dropped the compact.
Beau launched to his feet with a suspicious bark.
Blaise stared at the front door, heart hammering because she had a pretty good idea of who was standing on the other side.
Brick.
He’d texted earlier. Just a simple, Morning. Can we talk?
She’d read the text, then reread it. And then set her phone face-down like a coward. She just wasn’t ready to talk to him. She wasn’t sure how to bring up the things his son had said to her, so putting it off was easier.
The knocking came once more, firmer and more insistent this time. Beau barked again, making it impossible for her to pretend she hadn’t heard.
“Okay,” she whispered, giving her reflection one last glance. “Smile. You know how.”
She smoothed her sundress, inhaled, and opened the door. Beau had come with her. He wagged his tail as he looked up.
Brick stood there in a plain blue T-shirt and jeans, looking just as solid and handsome and complicated as ever. His brows lifted when he saw her, a reaction to her being dressed up, she was sure.
“Wow,” he said quietly. “You going somewhere fancy?”
She forced a light laugh that contradicted her nerves. “Photoshoot. Maude’s taking pictures for a website she’s building for me.”
A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. “Website, huh?”
She hadn’t explained her ideas to him, hadn’t mentioned the memoir. She’d wanted to, just hadn’t had the chance. “Something I’m working on.”
He nodded. “You look beautiful.”
The compliment hit hard for reasons she didn’t want to delve into. She was weirdly emotional about all of this. What that meant, she could only imagine. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Sorry I didn’t answer your text, but…” She didn’t know how to tell him it was because his son had come over and played the heavy.
Brick rubbed his neck, shoulders shifting like they were bearing a lot of weight. “Yeah. I know. That’s why I’m here.” His voice went gruff. “Holland told me he came to see you.”
Blaise swallowed in surprise. “He did?”
Brick’s jaw tightened. “Not because he wanted to, but I saw him walking away from your place. He didn’t tell me what he said, but I know that boy. Wasn’t nice, was it?”
There was no use softening it and she wasn’t about to lie to this man. “He accused me of being after your pension.”
Brick’s face darkened but she understood his anger wasn’t at her. His frown etched lines around his mouth. “That boy.” He snorted air through his nostrils. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, but you weren’t the one who said it,” she reminded him gently. The sting of Holland’s accusations came back to her. She turned her head to hide her expression, but she had a feeling Brick saw it.
He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “He’s protective. Stubborn like his mother. And dead wrong. You didn’t deserve a drive-by lecture from my grown son.”
Blaise’s throat tightened. “I just…I didn’t know what to say to you. I didn’t want to cause problems between you two.”
“Listen,” Brick said, stepping a bit closer. “Holland will just have to come around. That’s on him, not you. Not…us.”
Us. The word warmed her and scared her in equal measure. She nodded, unable to trust her voice.
Brick’s expression softened. “How about dinner tonight? Let me make up for all of this?”
She let a breath go. He wanted to make things right. And he was actually talking to her, so that had to be proof that this was important to him. “Holland still here?”
Brick shook his head. “Nope. Left ten minutes ago.”
“Okay,” she said, a small, real smile breaking through. “Dinner sounds nice.”
Brick’s shoulders eased. “Good. I’ll text you later.”
He bent to give Beau a pat and Blaise one more lingering look, a look that said he was sorry and that he was grateful she was still talking to him.
She felt the same way. She was thrilled he wasn’t letting his son’s opinions shape what happened next.
When he left, Blaise closed the door gently and leaned against it. She pressed a hand to her chest. There was only one reason she felt this relieved. She liked Brick in the same kind of way she’d once liked Jay.
He was such a solid presence, and her life had been anything but solid for too long. She smiled, glad her nerves seemed to have disappeared.
Now she had a photoshoot to nail. She gathered her things and headed to Maude’s.
Blaise checked her sundress again to be sure Beau’s lingering fur wasn’t all over her before knocking on Maude’s door. She’d brought the cream-and-white outfit as well as the blazer, just in case she needed options.
Maude opened the door with a bright smile. “Hey, you look fantastic. Hollywood should be calling any minute.”
Blaise laughed, warmth creeping into her cheeks. “I’d be happy with a local gig that paid, but I like your enthusiasm.”
“Come in,” Maude said, stepping aside. “Before we head to the beach, I want to show you something.”
Her tone had a spark of excitement but also held a little vulnerability. Blaise followed her inside to the small desk where Maude’s laptop was already open.
The screen displayed a homepage with a clean black, white, and gray palette and a photo of Blaise that Maude must have pulled from old portfolio work. Beneath it, clean, elegant lettering read, Blaise Monroe: Grace, Grit & Glamour.
Blaise leaned closer, heart tightening unexpectedly. There were menu tabs along the top:
About Blaise, Book Blaise, Appearances, Press & Media, Memoir: In Progress.
Blaise’s breath caught. “Maude, this is beautiful.”
Maude beamed. “I wanted a blend of confidence and approachability. Someone booking conferences or brand representation needs to see right away that you’re the real deal. Not just for the nostalgia angle, but because you’re still very much relevant.”
Blaise felt a prickling behind her eyes she absolutely did not want to turn into tears and ruin her makeup.
“You really get me,” she said softly. “Not who I was, but who I still could be. That is…so good. Thank you.”
Maude’s smile gentled. “You’re welcome.”
Blaise stood straighter, a feeling of hope and purpose settling into place. This might actually work. “Well,” she said, clearing her throat and offering Maude a wobbly grin. “Let’s go show the camera that woman, shall we?”
Maude grabbed her phone and bumped Blaise lightly with her hip. “We’re going to make some magic.”
Blaise didn’t want to overthink it, but she felt like that might actually happen.