Chapter 38
‘I think it went well, all things considered,’ Cheyenne said, eyes on her iPad. ‘You could have said more positive things about the special edition cover but—’
‘I didn’t want to lie,’ Gabriella answered straight away.
Luca smirked to himself as, on his knees, he unfastened the straps on Gabriella’s shoes. She stepped down out of them in the library ‘pre-school’ room.
‘You said that the green was “eye-wateringly attention-grabbing”,’ Cheyenne stated with a huff of displeasure.
‘I liked that bit,’ Phoebe remarked happily.
‘Me too,’ Luca agreed.
‘Wonderful,’ Cheyenne said harshly. ‘Because neither of you are paid to have an opinion on this.’
Luca stood up and bit his tongue. This woman was savage.
‘Hey,’ Gabriella said sharply. ‘That’s uncalled for. You should apologise.’
‘It’s OK, Gabriella,’ Phoebe said quickly.
‘No, Phoebe, it’s not OK.’ Gabriella faced her publicist. ‘It’s not OK, Cheyenne, to belittle people. Or have you not read that part of the book? Wait, perhaps it’s in the section that’s been edited out and no one’s told me, the author, about it.’
Cheyenne shook her head. ‘You’re overreacting, Gabriella. There have been no significant changes to the written material. And, OK, I apologise, Phoebe and Luca, if you considered my comment “belittling”. That was not my intention.’
That was anything but an apology and Luca was saying nothing to it.
‘Can your intention be leaving the room while I get changed?’ Gabriella asked.
‘Of course,’ Cheyenne said. ‘But tonight we need to go through the itinerary for the signing at the department store and the bookstore and I’ve managed to get you a walk-on spot at a prestigious fashion show.’
‘A fashion show!’ Phoebe said, excitably.
‘What fashion show?’ Luca asked.
‘Pierre Bastion,’ Cheyenne said.
Luca swallowed. Pierre Bastion was one of the fashion designers he admired most. He’d been to one of his runways before, gawped in admiration at the styling, wished he had the skill for design like he had for articulating them in to looks.
‘OK, I will leave you,’ Cheyenne said, heading for the door. ‘Twenty minutes and the car will be here.’
He began to unfasten the hook and eyes at the back of Gabriella’s dress.
‘I love a fashion show!’ Phoebe exclaimed. ‘Do you think we will be at the very front?’ She whirled around like she might already be taking part.
‘It sounded like you are going to walk the runway in one of the designs,’ Luca said.
‘Or perhaps Cheyenne will dress me in the book cover like a walking advertising board,’ Gabriella suggested.
‘What was the name of the designer again?’ Phoebe asked.
‘Pierre Bastion,’ Luca said.
‘You’ve heard of him?’ Gabriella asked as the fabric slid off her shoulders.
‘Yes,’ Luca said, nodding. ‘He’s someone I very much admire.’
‘So, what does he do?’ Gabriella asked. ‘That makes him stand out as a designer.’
‘In my opinion?’
‘Yes.’
‘OK,’ Luca said, pausing in his unfastening.
‘His designs, they’re a twist on classics.
So, to me, it’s like seeing the best of old-school tailoring mixing with a new generational vibe.
Ripped suits and slashed up maxi-skirts somehow delivering elegance and enigma.
Each collection, he has a theme. The last one was “Escape the Ordinary”. ’
‘Wow,’ Phoebe breathed, eyes on stalks.
‘You’re really a fan boy of this guy,’ Gabriella said to him.
‘I preferred saying he’s someone I admire.’
‘Well,’ Gabriella said. ‘Maybe you’ll meet him when you dress me for the fashion show.’
He smiled. ‘You aren’t going to need me to dress you for the fashion show. They are going to put you in one of Pierre’s designs.’ He unfastened more hooks. ‘Or make you a walking billboard for the book remember?’
‘For the runway,’ Gabriella said. ‘I can’t believe I actually said that… but, when I’m sitting in the audience? I’ll need something for that bit. And I will need my stylist to put me in it.’
He shook his head. ‘You don’t have to worry about this fan boy.’
She stiffened beneath his hands and turned her body to look at him. ‘You’re coming. No arguments.’
As she delivered her sincere-sounding words, his fingers grazed the back of her neck as he unfastened the necklace.
And all the flashbacks of the moment they had shared last night flooded him.
Neither of them had mentioned it. It was like they had laid a rug over a stain on the floor, hiding it from sight, but both of them knew it was still there.
Or, at least he did. Maybe Gabriella didn’t feel the same…
‘So, have you been to any of the Christmas markets yet?’ Luca blurted out, finally undoing the catch on the necklace.
‘No,’ Gabriella said. ‘We are finding it hard to do anything other than listen to behavioural lessons from Cheyenne.’
‘Well, there are a couple of really great ones here and—’
‘Will you come with us?’ Phoebe blurted out. ‘We could take Mr Darcy. He would love it.’
‘Phoebe, I’m sure that Luca has many things he has to do other than going with us to a Christmas market,’ Gabriella said, putting her sweater over her head. ‘With a dog.’
‘Do you?’ Phoebe asked him, straight up.
‘Yes,’ Luca answered. ‘But nothing I want to do more.’
‘Can we go, Gabriella? Please?’ Phoebe asked. ‘I promise I will revise history tomorrow.’
He looked at Gabriella and realised that his gut was telling him he really wanted her to say yes. More than he should.
‘Well, you know we’re going to have to evade capture by Cheyenne,’ Gabriella said. ‘Either you’re going to have to fake appendicitis again like you did when we had to get out of Pop-Pop’s slideshow of militaria through the ages, or it’s down the fire escape.’
‘OK,’ Phoebe said, nodding.
‘Or,’ Luca said. ‘We go now. Before your car gets here. We leave out the back door and we… go get Mr Darcy and head to the market.’
‘I like that idea,’ Phoebe said, still nodding.
He looked at Gabriella, could see the conflict written in her expression between doing the ‘right’ thing and doing what she wanted to do, be it for her or for Phoebe.
‘OK,’ Gabriella said, slipping on her coat and picking up her bag. ‘But we have to go right now.’
‘Yay!’ Phoebe exclaimed, collecting her things up in a matter of seconds.
And there was that feeling again, that unfurling, that tension release, that expectation of good. He was unused to it. A little scared of it maybe.
‘This market better be great,’ Gabriella said. ‘I’m expecting lights and garlands and—’
‘There will be no Cheyenne,’ he interrupted. ‘That’s my guarantee. Unless she’s tracking your phone.’
There was only a small moment of hesitation before Gabriella spoke again.
‘OK. Let’s go.’