Page 79 of All the Gossip from Paris
The words hit home. This was an act of defiance. Open rebellion against her father. She hadn’t meant it to be, but the truth now settled on Sophie. Tell herself all the lies she wished, but putting her own work into his collection was the very definition of subterfuge.
She turned to Camille. “There is no going back after this, is there?”
“No. And that’s a good thing,” replied Camille.
Sophie gathered her courage. This moment wouldn’t ever come again.
It’s now or never.
“I feel like I want to throw up. But that’s just nerves.”
Adeya and Camille, having both moved a step back, took one look at each other, and grinned. These were the sort of women who’d faced their own moments of decision and met them head on.
The line of models was down to the last two. After the girl wearing the shimmering silver pantsuit, there was only Adeya to come.
If her sister could defy their father, then so could she. “Let’s do this,” said Sophie.
As Adeya moved past her, Sophie let out a shuddering breath. Then she quickly raced to the TV monitor. She was eager to see how the fashion world reacted to the launch of her first haute couture gown. They would think it was François’ work, but this was all hers. It didn’t matter whether they loved or hated it. For Sophie there was no going back.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
The Royal Resorts Hotel Paris.
Later that evening
The rest of the runway show and the hour or so after it passed by Sophie in a blur. The synapses in her brain were firing at a huge rate. She’d achieved so much today. It was hard to take it all in.
Someone had handed Sophie’s coat to her. She’d been ushered out of the Petit Palais and into the back of a waiting car. The next thing she knew she was walking into the crowded grand ballroom of the Royal Resorts Hotel Paris.
Alone.
Stuffing her hands into her coat pockets Sophie kept moving through the gathering. Her hands hadn’t stopped trembling since the moment Adeya had set foot on the runway wearing Sophie’s couture gown.
The roar of the gathered crowd still rung in her ears. All the years she’d been attending fashion week, she had never heard such a reception to a single garment.
And it wasn’t just the gown. She’d proven that with help from the right people, people who believed in her, she could showcase her family’s haute couture on her own terms.
She didn’t even mind that Patrice had been the one to walk the runway at the end of the show to acknowledge the guests. He could smile and bow all he wished. This day belonged to her.
Her cell phone continued to gently ping with notifications from the House of Royal sales and marketing team. The collection had been well received. The regular clients were already placing orders. And there were one or two new names who had reached out and asked to be considered for the client list.
Excitement bubbled in her belly at reading the contents of the last note. Five clients had enquired about the blue and white gown. Real clients were interested in collecting her work.
But as much as all of that was so amazing, all she wanted was to find Liam. To have him wrap his arms around her. To tell her he wouldn’t ever leave.
“Where are you?” she whispered.
A hand touched the small of her back and it was all Sophie could do not to let out a huge sigh of relief. She knew that touch.
Thank god. Where have you been?
“I’m not sure if you look like you need a drink, or if you’re about to set off on a lap of honor,” said Liam.
Sophie gladly took the glass of champagne he offered her. “Thank you. I think this space is a bit crowded for running, but I could certainly do with burning off some of the adrenaline,” she replied.
They clinked glasses. “Congratulations you pulled it off,” said Liam.
“We pulled it off. I couldn’t have done it without a huge amount of help. And your support.”
