Page 77 of All the Gossip from Paris
Brazil client has confirmed for the photo shoot. They expect you in São Paulo by Friday next week. Call me if any problems. Contract attached.
He’d been so busy with the fashion shoot he’d set all thoughts of his next gig aside. Now it was coming up all too fast.
And so was the question of what he was going to do about his and Sophie’s relationship. Time wasn’t on his side. He’d rushed into his last long-term romance and that had ended badly. He had to keep reminding himself that Sophie wasn’t Brooke. There were light years between them.
I still owe it to her, and to myself, not to push.
Maybe him going off to Brazil wasn’t such a bad idea. A bit of distance would give them both some perspective. When the fires of their initial passion dimmed, she might decide he wasn’t a long term prospect.
But if I leave without telling Sophie I love her, she might think I don’t care.
“Ah the American. How are things going?”
The universe certainly had it in for Liam. No sooner had he started thinking about Sophie then her ex appeared in front of him. “Good thanks Patrice. I’m going to check with the film crew shortly. After that I think we should be good to go.”
Patrice moved closer. His gaze settled on Liam’s phone. On the open email. “What’s in Brazil?” he asked.
There was no point in lying. He’d already told Sophie about the job. Though that had been a few weeks ago. A lot had happened since then.
“An assignment that’s coming up way too soon.”
“So you won’t be staying in Paris much longer? Perhaps it’s time you went. Marina Royal would never say that you’d outstayed your welcome at the chateau. She expects her guests to have the manners to decide that for themselves,” huffed Patrice.
Sophie’s mother was still in Switzerland. Liam doubted she cared all that much about who was in her house at that very moment. He got the snide hint though; it wasn’t exactly delivered with much subtly.
“When Sophie and I are together tonight, I’ll remember to ask her what the rules are regarding guests and extended family,” remarked Liam.
Two can play at that game.
Refusing to be intimidated, he held Patrice’s gaze for a long moment. It was Sophie’s ex who finally broke away. He made a grand display of putting his cell to his ear to pick up a call. Liam was certain his phone hadn’t rung. As Patrice walked away, Liam muttered under his breath, “Say hello to your imaginary important friend for me.”
He wasn’t going to be told to leave by the likes of the self-important Patrice. The only person who could make him pack his bags and head to the airport was Sophie.
The second he got the chance, he would talk to her. It was well past time they had a conversation about their future.
He had to tell Sophie he loved her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Sophie had barely eaten all day. Liam had brought her a coffee and a pain au chocolat at eleven o’clock. He’d stood and waited, making sure she finished them. Then he’d taken the empty wrappers and gone back to work.
It was now almost five. Her body needed food, but the mere thought of it had her stomach twisting in knots.
You would think this was my first fashion show.
It wasn’t but it was the first one she’d had to manage. Everything that went right or wrong tonight would come back to her. This was it—the culmination of months of work from the team at the atelier, and weeks of late nights and planning on her part.
The air buzzed with nervous energy. Harried hair and make-up artists were busy shouting instructions. There were last-minute adjustments to models and their assigned outfits. The frantic clacking of heels on marble flooring kept up a relentless beat.
Somewhere lost in all this madness was Liam.
I really wish he could come and give me a hug right now.
A hand landed gently on her shoulder. “The models are all set. They have the first outfits on. I’ve checked with the security team. We have a full house, and the show runners say we are go for launch,” said Ryan. At least one of the Collins brothers had been able to find her.
Sophie grinned up at her brother in law. If her sister hadn’t already stolen him for her fashion studio, she’d have been tempted to offer him a job. “Where’s Patrice?” she asked. He should have been the one coming to tell her that all the guests were seated and ready.
Ryan gave a half-shrug in response. “He was talking to a couple of fashion writers when I last saw him. I think they might be from French Vogue. They’ve got the best seats in the house, so I’m assuming they are super-important people.”
