Page 57 of Arranged with Twins
“Where are you now?”
“Heading back to my apartment. Why?”
“Take a detour. Go see Nadia. She’s been wanting to design something special for you since your mother told her shecouldn’t do the wedding dress.” Leo’s suggestion makes my pulse go faster with possibility. “Let her create something that’s entirely yours.”
“Do you think she’d have time? The gala is Friday.”
“Why not ask her?” I can hear the smile in Leo’s voice. “Besides, I’d rather see you in something that makes you happy than something chosen to satisfy other people’s expectations.”
After ending the call, I ask the driver to take me to Nadia’s studio in SoHo. The familiar space smells like fabric and steam, with bits of silk and cotton arranged throughout the converted warehouse loft.
“Sienna?” Nadia looks up from a sketching table covered with fashion drawings. “This is a lovely surprise. How did lunch with the parentals go?”
“Exactly as horribly as expected.” I sink into the comfortable chair beside her workstation. “Mother tried to dress me like a trophy for Friday’s gala.”
“The literacy fundraiser? I heard Leo’s foundation stepped in as a sponsor.” Nadia sets down her pencil and gives me her full attention. “What kind of torture device did Katherine select?”
“Burgundy silk that clings to everything.” I touch my stomach instinctively. “I’m afraid it’ll be obvious I’m pregnant if I wear it. The pregnancy books say I could pop any day and start showing, at least a little. That dress leaves no room for any showing.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” She stands and begins pulling fabric samples from nearby shelves. “How much time do I have to create something amazing?”
“It’s Friday. Is that enough?”
“For you? Absolutely.” Nadia spreads pale gold silk across her cutting table. “I’m thinking something elegant but forgiving through the waist. This color would be stunning with your skin tone.”
We spend the next hour discussing designs and the specific requirements for concealing my pregnancy while still looking appropriate for a formal charity event. Nadia sketches quickly, her pencil capturing ideas that evolve with each iteration.
“It’ll be somewhat traditional, so Katherine can’t complain too much.” Nadia shows me the final sketch. “The empire waist and flowing skirt will give you room to breathe, and this shade of gold will make you look luminous.”
“It’s perfect.” I study the drawing, already imagining how the dress will feel compared to Mother’s restricting choice. “You’re sure you can finish it in time?”
“I’ll have it done by Thursday. That gives us Friday morning for any final adjustments.” Nadia grins as she begins taking my measurements. “Katherine’s going to hate that you look better in my design than in her stylist’s selection.”
“Good.” The prospect of Mother’s disapproval doesn’t bother me as much as it usually does. “It’s time I stopped letting her dress me like a doll.”
As Nadia works, pinning fabric and adjusting the fit, I think about Leo’s encouragement to choose for myself. It’s such a simple concept, yet revolutionary in the context of my family’s expectations. For the first time since my brief spike of rebellion before I let Mother take over everything again when I stopped caring about it all at Leo’s emotional withdrawal, I feel excited about attending a social event, knowing I’ll be wearingsomething that reflects my own taste rather than someone else’s vision of who I should be.
The drive back to my apartment passes quickly, and my mood is considerably lighter than it was this morning. Leo’s concern for my happiness, combined with Nadia’s creative enthusiasm, has transformed what felt like another defeat into a small victory.
When I reach my building, I text Leo to thank him for the suggestion and the car service. His response comes immediately:“Looking forward to seeing what Nadia creates. I love you.”
I love you.
Those three simple words make everything else bearable. Whatever expectations they try to impose, I have Leo’s love and support to anchor me. That feels like enough to weather any storm Mother might create when she discovers I’ve rejected her stylist’s selection. I’ll wear Nadia’s creation and feel beautiful in something I chose for myself. It’s a small rebellion, but an important one.
20
Leo
The ingredients for tonight’s dinner are already arranged on Sienna’s kitchen counter when I arrive at her penthouse. She greets me at the door wearing one of my dress shirts over leggings, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. “You’re early.” She rises on her tiptoes to kiss me.
“Traffic was lighter than expected.” I hand her the bottle of wine I brought, though I know she won’t be drinking it. “What are we making?”
“Pasta with mushroom cream sauce for me, and I thought you could handle dessert.” She leads me into the kitchen. “I found a chocolate soufflé recipe that doesn’t look too complicated.”
“You trust me with something that requires actual technique?” I roll up my sleeves and survey the dessert ingredients. “Soufflés are notorious for collapsing.”
“I have faith in your ability to follow directions.” She ties an apron around her waist and begins heating oil in a heavy pan.“Besides, if it fails, we can always eat ice cream straight from the container.”
