Page 88 of Serving the Couturier

“Really?” I was surprised.

“I never met the woman personally,” Da continued, “but she’s had a few interactions with your Aunt May. From what I remember, unpleasant would be a kind word for Opal Masters.”

“She’s a bitch,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “Sorry, Mom, but it’s the truth.”

“What did she say to you?” Mom’s voice was sharp.

“Just what I already knew,” I said. “That I don’t belong there.”

“That wasn’t all, was it?” Mom asked.

I told them everything. The words came pouring out: the hurtful things Opal said, the threats she made, and my insecurities about whether Spencer would want the baby.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I admitted. “But I can’t figure things out when I have to worry about Spencer’s grandmother stabbing me in the back.”

“If we turn around, I’m sure I can get a flight to England,” Mom said. “I’ll go have a talk with this Opal.”

“And end up getting arrested for assault?” Da said. “I think not.”

I laughed, relieved to see the lightheartedness in my parents’ expressions.

“I’m not planning on staying long,” I said. “But I need to clear my head and figure out a plan.”

“Whatever you need, lass,” Da said. “We’re here for you.”

And that’s why I came home. No matter how crazy my world became, I knew my family would always be there for me. The Yorks might not have been able to depend on each other, but the McCraes could, regardless of their last name.

FORTY-SIX

SPENCER

I triedto sleep during the flight, but my mind wouldn’t allow it. The adrenaline that had driven me to leave England had worn off, leaving me emotionally and physically exhausted. I spent the entire flight running through different scenarios in my head, imagining the conversations I would have with London. Apologizing for my grandmother’s behavior, trying to express my feelings about her pregnancy and her decision to leave without telling me.

Although finding out she was pregnant was a shock to me, the thought of having a baby with her filled me with excitement. I wanted to have that life, to tell her that our child and she were more important to me than anything else, including my title and my grandmother’s opinions.

But the fact that she left without even a text or a word to me cut me deep. I wanted to place the blame on her, be angry that she didn’t trust me enough to come to me, but I knew it wasn’t her fault. I hadn’t prepared her for what my family was like or what their expectations of me were. And I hadn’t told her that I was figuring out how to give it all up for her.

Thanks to the time difference, I arrived in New York at almost the same time I’d departed from England. I snatched my bag and headed straight to a waiting taxi. I told the driver to take me to London’s place, as I tried to hold back my curiosity and refrained from asking him if he had recently picked up a strawberry blonde. As we navigated through the busy morning traffic, I leaned back in my seat, taking a deep breath and preparing myself for what was to come.

I twisted my cap in my hands, trying to calm my nerves when I spotted London’s street. I already had my wallet out, eager to pay the driver as soon as we came to a stop. I quickly exited the taxi without a second thought, not even bothering to ask the driver to wait for me.

The doorman at the building remembered me and allowed me into the lobby, but that was where my luck ran out, as he informed me that he hadn’t seen London. While it was possible that she had come in without him noticing, I didn’t think that was likely. Nevertheless, I went up to her apartment and knocked on the door, but there was no answer.

Frustrated, I retraced my steps back to the lobby, regretting my hasty decision to dismiss the taxi.

I was at a loss as to my next move.

The enormity of New York City made finding London seem like a formidable challenge. Although London had friends in the city, I didn’t believe she would seek them out, particularly not Mercedes. The possibility of her staying in a hotel crossed my mind, but I deemed it unlikely.

Thus, my only recourse was to try and locate one of her siblings. I resolved to start with Maggie, as I sought to avoid any confrontations with Carson if I could avoid it.

With no cabs in sight, I did what I should have done upon my arrival and ordered a private car service for the day. Within ten minutes, a black town car pulled up to the curb in front of me. Upon entering the back seat, I swiftly retrieved Maggie and Drake’s address. The traffic was manageable, and when I arrived at my destination, the solemn expression on Drake’s face when he opened the door showed he was fully aware of my purpose for being there.

Maggie fixed me with a stern gaze as I stepped into the apartment, so I threw my hands up in surrender. “I just need to speak with her,” I explained.

“Why?” Maggie asked, arms crossed.

I didn’t want to just blurt out news about the baby to her family, so I asked, “What did she tell you?”

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