Page 6 of Winter With You

A dog. Now Gabriella felt her anger rolling out like a pre-event red carpet. And like most red carpets, it was well-worn. Whenever Monica needed to up the manipulation, there was always the suggestion of a family dog. Lulu had fallen for the façade every single time. But Gabriella was not going to share that with Phoebe right now.

‘Well, that sounds adorable,’ Gabriella said. ‘But, if they do get a dog, it will still be here when you get back from New York, unless it, you know, shits in Pop-Pop’s slippers. Or, maybe Grandmama could wait for you to get back and then you choose the dog together.’

This fictional dog. This dog that would never exist in the Felix mansion. But she was hiding the absolute truth about her parents for Phoebe’s sake, not theirs.

‘OK,’ Phoebe said softly.

‘OK what?’

‘OK, I’ll come to New York.’ Phoebe let out a nervous breath. ‘But, promise me, no sketchy bars like there were in the Netherlands.’

Amsterdam had been fun. There had been sketchier places she’d been without Phoebe. There had also been a drag queen called Benedick Cumonsnatch…

‘No sketchy bars,’ Gabriella said, hand on her heart. ‘Only great food, GCSE revision and bookshops. Stores! Bookstores.’

‘And can I have the window seat on the plane?’

‘Absolutely,’ Gabriella said.

‘OK,’ Phoebe said, nodding like the plans were now set in her head.

Gabriella smiled. ‘A few days and it will be goodbye to the Thames and hello to the Hudson… and that’s the extent of my river comparison knowledge.’

‘Well, the Hudson is longer by one hundred miles,’ Phoebe announced.

‘You looked that up?’

‘I look up a lot of things.’

Gabriella smiled again. ‘Keep doing that. Knowledge is power, remember?’ She nudged Phoebe with her elbow. ‘Do you know what else gives you power? Sushi. Let’s look that up too and get it coming.’

4

LA FAÇON, MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

Luca closed his eyes as he entered the room and let the scent do its work. There were new garments and fabric here in the gigantic walk-in closet of the house of fashion he worked out of, new things since yesterday that were calling to him with their fragrance. Fine thread had a scent, just like cheap thread had a scent. Quality lace smelt fresh and natural. Inferior or mixed material held traces of formaldehyde. A pungency you didn’t easily forget. Leather. There was definitely new leather in here.

‘Hands off the feathers, Mr Manning. Those are mine.’

Luca opened his eyes and turned around at the sound of his boss’s voice. Sybille Legrand was the owner of La Façon, and she was a seventy-something icon of the New York fashion scene and fully established on the world’s stage. He had long-admired her unabashed approach to styling – bucking current trends, creating her own – and the longevity and relevance of her career. So much so, Luca had heavily researched her, borderline stalked her and arrived at the interview for this position only three years ago, carrying her favourite coffee and a lemon basil tart no one was supposed to know she adored. He had wanted this job. He had needed this job to prove to himself that he wasn’t just the son of his father.

‘Is your client Taylor Swift?’ Luca asked her as she came closer to him, fingers reaching for the part of the hanging rack he had paused by.

‘I think we would need more sequins for her,’ Sybille stated. ‘But, look at the feathers here.’ She pulled out a peach-coloured structured box jacket in corduroy material, large ostrich feathers covering the shoulders and draping down the arms. ‘What would you put together with this?’

Luca took in everything about the garment. The harsh, solid, straight lines of the jacket’s make-up, in complete contrast to the light, delicate flow of the large feathers covering the arm sections. He mused for a few moments and then gave his answer.

‘Jimmy Choo, Stevie 100 silkie blush satin crystal pumps.’

There was silence until finally Sybille said something. ‘And what else? You have only given me a shoe.’

Luca nodded and smiled. ‘Sybille, are you becoming conservative? Look at the jacket. It is the show stealer. You know this. You cannot put anything else with it but an amazing shoe.’

He watched his mentor hold the jacket at arm’s length and really take it in anew. Maybe he shouldn’t have reacted with his gut. The last thing he ever wanted to do was disappoint the person who had given him so much. And she was the one with all the fashion accolades. He was still slowly finding his way…

Sybille sighed with exactly the kind of disappointment he had not wanted to hear. Should he backtrack? He went to speak, but she got there first.

‘Why are you always right? I hate that about you as much as I love it.’ She pressed the jacket to his chest so forcefully Luca had to stop it falling to the ground, and then she moved away into the rest of the space. It was a grand hall, a former ballet studio with large arched windows overlooking the buildings opposite and the street below.