Page 4 of Worth Every Moment
"Why would you want to do that?" The question comes out sounding as though I think he’s insane to want to. As if the idea that he might want to spend time withmeis crazy. I guess thefact someone like Seb is here at all is a sign of how much my life has changed in the past few years. I’ve gone from obscurity to fame and fortune in under eighteen months. And, regardless of whatever I said to Seb last night, I have my mother to thank for that.
He lifts a shoulder. “Why not?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you asking me out?”
He narrows his eyes right back, mimicking my suspicion. “Would you like me to?”
That flush of warmth hits again, and a bubble expands in my throat; a giggle desperate to be released. I swallow it down. “No. I don’t date.”
“Ah. Mummy says no?”
I cringe. “No. Well, yes. Kind of.”
The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the silence. It feels like I’m in a therapy session.
“How old are you?” Seb asks.
“Twenty. How old are you?” I know exactly how old he is, but I repeat his question anyway.
“Twenty-five.” He rubs a hand along his jaw. “So can I see you again? I know you don’t date but… as friends?”
Friends. The word leaves a buzz in the air, like the ringing in my ears after an alarm has shut off. It’s a seemingly innocent request, but there’s nothing innocent about this man or how he makes me feel. He’s not like Nico, the professional businessman. He’s…different. To me, much more appealing, and that’s the risk. Could I maintain a friendship with someone like Seb Hawkston without crossing that dangerous line?
And then there’s Mum to consider. She definitely won’t like me seeing him, even if it’s just as ‘friends’. He’s everything she dislikes in a man. The charm, the sexual energy, the money, and the power. He’s her worst nightmare; the type of guy who’d lead any woman astray, or worse, abandon them and publiclyhumiliate them. Thing is, she might be right because Tatler didn’t just list his estimated net worth. It listed all the women he’s been seen with over the last couple of years. And it was alot. My brand—Erica Lefroy—is valuable. It’s not just my name; it’s our company, and Mum owns fifty per cent of it. Now that I’m more established in the modelling world, she has plans to expand into fashion, perfume, and cosmetics. And I guess I’m going with her. Me being associated with the ultimate playboy, when my whole brand is based on purity and innocence, wouldn’t work for the business plan.
I should say no. That’s the right answer. We’ll inevitably see each other again either way. London is a small place when you move in certain circles. But to see himprivately? Just the thought of it has nerves cascading through me like water through a broken dam. He shouldn’t even be here now, let alone come backagain.
And yet the thought of not sharing another private moment with him feels so wrong, it’s almost frightening. Maybe I can step out of Mum’s shadow just a tiny bit. I already threw the party, although the longer I sit here not clearing away the mess, the more those nerves cascade, raging like a river that could drag me under. But maybe enduring them would be worth it, and I can have this one thingfor me. A friendship with Seb Hawkston. I’ll have to clear away all the evidence that such a thing exists, like I’m covering tracks in the snow with a fallen tree branch.I was never here. And I’ll never date him; that’s a line I won’t cross. But friendship… I could do that, right? Well, I want to try, at least.
I swallow hard and say it quickly before I can stop myself.
“Yes. You can see me again. I'd like that.”
2
ERICA
Present Day
“Thisfuckingshoe.” I groan as I bend over to fix the patent leather strap that’s tied around my ankle like a shackle. A high fashion, three thousand dollar shackle.
I’m on the runway first tonight, opening the show for Dominic DeLacey, the fashion designer of the moment. And I think he’s trying to kill me with these shoes. They’re a cross between something a dominatrix would wear and a melting Mr Whippy ice cream. The heel is nearly as long as my forearm, and it spirals like twin streaks of brightly coloured carnival candy.
I’d never sell anything this wacky in my own fashion line.
With the strap in place, I totter a few steps. I should have practised this more, but as it is, I have fifteen minutes before I’m going out.Shit.
The frustration is a good reminder that I’m making the right decision. I want to quit modelling and move to the big screen. Become an actress. If I’m honest, I always wanted to do it, but what Mum wanted came first. She was—is—the engine behind my career. And sure, modelling has always been good to me, butit felt like I was living my mother’s unlived life. It was her dream, not mine, and I’ve tried to shake that feeling off for years. I might be twenty-five, but this move into acting will be the first thing I’ve really, truly done for me. Not for my mum or anyone else. Just for me.
I can’t wait.
Dominic’s going to lose it when he finds out his muse—England’s Rose—is abandoning him to break into the movie industry. He’s been by my side for years, ever since he saw the Claudia Kirchwood photo shoot that made my career. He said I had an ‘inspirational face’, but I’m sure he’ll do just fine without me. I give a little shrug for my own benefit. I’ll think about that later.
I inhale deeply, taking in the familiar smells of hairspray, nail polish, and perfume. As much as I want to move on, I’ll miss the chaos of fashion shows. The energy behind the scenes is fraught, but I've thrived here. I’ve been doing this since I was a teenager, and I’m right at the top of my game.Hot property. It’s the perfect moment to make a change.
On the dressing table, my phone pings and I drop into the nearby chair as I swipe to open it.
Mum: Not feeling well so I can’t come see you walk this time. Keep your back straight and your eye on the prize. Every step you take now is crucial to our next move with the company. DO NOT LET ME DOWN.
