Page 70 of Stranded

A chance. I’d do anything for another chance.

“Prince Charming would take the chance.”

“Yeah,” I breathe out, making up my mind. I have to make up for everything that’s happened today—however I can. I set down my glass and push back the stool. “Thanks, Kieran. Wish me luck!”

I’ll need it.

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

RONAN

I haveno idea how my roommates made it.

Theylooklike they got dunked in the harbour. They’re clearly dressed in borrowed clothes, hair flattened and shoes squelching… but they’re there.

Whatever.

There’s no time to think, or cuss them out, or do anything. Not if I’m going to do the best I possibly can at this showcase. Right now, that’s what matters.

Professor Meyer has been warning us for weeks how frantic this is going to be. But it reallyisjust go go go, with barely time to breathe. Dressing models, making sure the makeup is right, styling, last-minute alterations…

Then I turn to start work on my final touch—the one thing that will tie all my looks together—and I freeze.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

I didn’t bring the roll of marine chain. I was planning to cut, drape, and sew it onto each outfit in a slightly different way… and it’s not here.

Think…!I cast my mind to the small hours.Shit. I put it in a different bag.

It was sitting next to the suitcase, but it obviously wasn’t there, or I would have seen it.

Did they bring it? Did I forget it on the ferry, then? Or did they fling it into the corner of the living room when they trashed my sewing studio?

I hiss as I turn on the spot, glaring toward Derek’s work station.

“Something wrong?” Derek asks smugly. He’s barely had any alterations to make at all, in fact. He’s just been sitting here on his phone for the last two hours.

Like someone else did all the work.

“No,” I snap at him and turn my back.

The last thing I can do isask. They’ll lie to my face and laugh about it. But if I don’t have it in under an hour… I’m fucked.

There’s nothing else strong enough that ties together the six looks. I was counting on this. I know what I have to swallow my pride and do, so I pull out my phone and tap Alph’s name.

Ronan:

I need something.

Alph:

Anything.

His response is instant, but my chest is too tight to breathe as I furiously tap at my phone.

Ronan:

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