Page 43 of Serving the Couturier

“I like to get unpleasant tasks out of the way first thing.”

“Thanks, Grandmother,” I muttered.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” I paused. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

“It’s time for you to return home and select an appropriate bride.”

At least she got straight to the point.

“I’ll be back after things get started here,” I said. “Just like I told you before.”

“And when, exactly, will that be?”

“A few more weeks. I don’t know exactly. It all depends on how previews go. I’ll be home before spring for certain.”

“After hearing about your most recent trip home, I’ve decided that simply won’t do. You’re to return at once, leaving that woman behind for good. You will work alongside your father to prepare for your future, and you will choose a suitable partner from a group of women I have selected.”

I was not up to having this conversation. Not because I could barely think straight, but because I was losing the filter that usually kept me from saying what I truly thought to my grandmother.

“Do you understand me?”

I sighed. “Yes, Grandmother, I understand you.”

“Good. Then you’ll be home by the end of the week.”

“No.” I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “No, I won’t. I’ll be home when I’m ready. And I’ll continue living my life the way I want. You need to stop interfering.”

And then I ended the call without giving her the chance to answer.

I’d either done the bravest or the most foolish thing ever. Only time would tell which it was.

TWENTY-THREE

LONDON

“My place is that way,”I said and pointed behind me as I settled into the passenger seat of Timothy’s car. I’d been a bit surprised he had a car since most New Yorkers didn’t, but that it was a Lamborghini made complete sense.

“Do you have a roommate?” he asked as he turned in the direction I’d pointed. “I noticed you come in a lot with a redhead. Mercedes, right?”

“We’re friends, but we don’t live together,” I said, half answering his question.

“So you’re the queen of your own castle, huh?” Timothy chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he sped up. “I hear your brother designed your costumes. I like them. Talent runs in the family, it seems.” He flashed me a winning smile.

“Thanks. I’ll pass that along.”

I didn’t feel like making small talk, but I didn’t want to be rude either, so I followed Timothy’s lead and answered his questions about my brother and then about what other family members lived in the city.

As we approached my building, I said, “You can just drop me off here.”

Timothy seemed surprised by my words, but he covered it with a charming smile. “Aren’t you going to invite me up for a drink?”

Shit.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think….” I shook my head. “I meant what I said about not having a late night before a show.”

The confusion in his eyes was brief. “Are you seeing someone?”

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