Page 67 of Ten Christmases Without You
He answered immediately. “I was hoping you’d call.”
She brightened. “You were?”
“Yes. I’m dying to hear about the designer.”
Before long, she was blabbering on, dishing everything—even her call to Vivienne. “It sounds almost too good to be true,” she said. “And it would mean that I’d stay in New York, but I’m not sure I want to stay here. I’d sort of gotten my mind around moving, and my lease is up.” She dared not admit that Wyoming had crossed her mind.
“Well, you know I’m not the one to offer advice.”
She fluffed her pillow and lay back on it. “Why not?”
“Because working for a New York designer sounds like an incredible opportunity.”
She took in a deep breath and let it out.
“Will this job make you happy?” he asked.
“I have no idea.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” he said.
“Even though you don’t have the answer for me, I feel so much better after talking to you.”
“I’m glad.”
She could sense his smile on the other end, and it gave her a flutter of excitement.
She and Charlie weren’t a thing, but she could see something developing with him. And if they did move past the friend zone,she faced the same dilemma as her mother: Would she give it all up and chase Charlie somewhere else? She had to pursue this opportunity with Mitchell first. In a way, it was as if her mom were leading her somewhere she couldn’t see yet. Chances to work under one of New York’s top designers didn’t just fall out of the sky. It was as if the change in career was meant for her. She had to see where it led.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THE NONEXISTENT CHRISTMAS
December 5, 2018
Emmy rushed through the controlled chaos and creativity with high-stakes anticipation. Two of her designs were going to be revealed on the runway: a red silk ensemble and her prized taffeta Brilliance Nocturne. She was most excited about that one. This was New York’s Fashion Innovation Conference & Fashion Tech Forum—theweek she’d trained for all year.
Mitchell Augustine had been an absolute delight to work for. But she’d never labored so much in her life. Working for Harlow and Ash had given her no time to do anything else. And the more hours she put in with Mitchell, the more she found herself. Early on, he’d made her abandon the formalities, having her call him Mitch, but that was where the laid-back atmosphere ended. When they worked together, it was as if they shared the same mind. She knew where he wanted to go, and he anticipated her questions before she even asked them. She’d never felt more accomplished in her life.
He’d been so impressed with her skills and the speed at which she learned that he’d asked her to design two looks with him for the Fashion Innovation Conference.
Working alongside Mitchell made her feel closer to her mom, and his praise and guidance helped her to see her own gifts. Looking back now, she couldn’t believe she’d let her mother’s sewing machine sit unused for so long. It had become a part of her and not just a reminder of her mother.
She and her mother shared the same talents, but Emmy was determined to set herself apart with her own designs. But all her hard work had come at a price. Charlie, who now lived in Jackson Hole, was always out on the trails or in a boat, and Emmy was knee-deep in fabric, sometimes until the wee hours of the morning. Their calls dwindled, and eventually, as she fell into bed exhausted every night, she hadn’t noticed that her phone had stopped ringing. She knew it would happen, but the knowing didn’t make missing him any easier. Her only consolation was that she was usually too busy for his silence to consume her. She did wonder if she’d crossed his mind over the last few months. But she didn’t have time to think about it.
The atmosphere backstage at the conference was electric. Emmy flew from model to model, making last-minute adjustments to the silk two-piece outfit she’d designed, as the Harlow and Ash seamstresses swiftly stitched on final trimmings, while other models slipped into garments under Emmy’s discerning eye. Hairspray billowed around her, but she hardly noticed in her balancing act between tension and absolute exhilaration.
She wanted to get this just right for herself, but her father would also be there tonight. This was her moment to show him that all his support and encouragement over the years had paid off.
“Emmy! Does the Paloma belt have a third loop?” one of their assistants called over while she patted the waist of her model.
“No, just the two on each side.”
Both her pieces and all the ones on the runway represented months of effort. Emmy’s sketches were edited, reedited, and sometimes reimagined with Mitchell before they were applied to fabric, her visions transformed into reality by her own hands. She’d learned how to trust her instinct, and over time, she’d stopped asking herself what her mother would have done and naturally answered her questionsherway.
But now, Emmy felt an irrefutable pressure to be accepted. She peered around the curtain to see if she could find her sister and her dad in the spectators, but she only found editors, buyers, and influencers, their discriminating gazes ready to choose which designs would represent the season.
Her dad had finally sold her childhood home, so he was living with Madison until he figured out where he wanted to settle. The rest of the family had met them in Richmond, and they were all flying in together. Their flight had landed a couple of hours ago. She couldn’t wait to have her whole family there. Everything had fallen into place this year. They might even get a white Christmas celebration. Emmy scanned the crowd once more, but camera flashes flickered like strobe lights, momentarily blinding her.
