Page 69 of All the Gossip from Paris
François slowly shook his head. “What you ask for is impossible.”
“What you are asking me to do is cruel.”
For the first time in her life she was standing up to him. Her father wasn’t used to dealing with this particular version of his daughter. He was accustomed to the Sophie who always did as told. Who immediately acceded to his demands.
The only other family member who’d defied him, Camille, had chosen not to bend the knee. Instead she’d quit.
“Alright, you can be in charge of the clothes. But you must answer to Patrice for the entire event. He will be the face of the house while I am gone. That is my final word on the matter.”
Liam had asked her what she thought victory looked like. Gaining control over the collection was a major win. She would take it.
“Thank you, Papa. I won’t let you down.”
“Now give me a kiss; and let me go under the surgeon’s knife knowing my January show will still be a success. Make sure you return to Paris tonight. Call Patrice first thing in the morning.”
Sophie bent and gave her father a kiss on the cheek. “Je t'aime, Papa.”
When she left the room a minute later a plan was already forming in Sophie’s mind. She wasn’t happy with the arrangements her father had made, but she would do as asked.
Patrice knew little about the garments, so her handling that side of things shouldn’t present too much of a problem. As long as he stayed out of her space, they should be able to make sure Haute Couture Week went off without a hitch.
But as she walked into the waiting room and offered her gathered family a hopeful smile, Sophie held no illusions. She already knew that the coming weeks would be a grueling challenge. Like it or not the success of the show would rest on her shoulders.
Liam stepped forward and drew Sophie into his arms.
Thank heavens for this man.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Le château de la forêt verte
Three long days later
The good news was that François’ surgery had been a success. In time her father was expected to make a full recovery. The bad news was that he wouldn’t be able to return to Paris for at least another three weeks. It was going to be touch and go as to whether François made it back in time to see his runway show at all.
That last piece of news, hit Sophie hard. Not only was her father going to remain in hospital for some time, but Patrice was now officially in charge of planning and delivering all of Haute Couture Week for the House of Royal.
Between now and the end of January they had to pull a polished runway show together. Models. Photographers. Coordinating with the event space people. Catering. Media. All the usual things which the twice a year new collection launch madness involved. Things which her detail fixated father normally had well under control.
But not this year.
Setting all those worries to one side and focusing on the job she’d been tasked to handle, the gowns and couture wear, should have been a straight forward task. There were a few final pieces which were yet to be completed. But it was nothing that the highly skilled atelier team couldn’t handle under normal circumstances.
This week was fast turning into as far from normal as you could get.
Sophie had done as her father asked and returned to the chateau late on New Years Eve. Liam had travelled with her, leaving Camille and Ryan to stay with Marina and Éliott in Switzerland.
Liam had been standing beside her when she’d made that fateful call to Patrice the following morning. She hated having to tell him that he was now in charge.
The moment the puffed-up Patrice had hung up the phone, Liam had pulled Sophie into his embrace and kissed her. His lips offering her the comfort and support she so badly needed.
On the third day of the new year, Sophie and Liam began carrying all of the completed garments out of the atelier. They took them downstairs to the grand ballroom.
Each piece was then carefully arranged on a mobile mannequin. By having the clothes on wheels, coordinating and rearranging the order of the runway presentation would be made that much easier.
Sophie also hoped that by setting up her work well away from the atelier, she could stay out of Patrice’s way. Out of sight. Out of mind.
“They look amazing all properly arranged down here. I can actually see the garments and envision how the show might look,” said Sophie.
