Page 114 of Pretend To Be Mine

And more importantly, no Clara.

I adjusted my cufflinks and waited for Elizabeth to emerge from the changing room. Tonight’s gown was gorgeous of course, but a bit more understated.

The door opened, and Elizabeth stepped out. I forgot how to breathe.

The gown was black—not the safe, predictable black of cocktail dresses, but something deeper. Midnight captured in fabric. It was strapless, the bodice fitted to emphasize every curve before flowing into a skirt that moved like liquid shadow. When she turned slightly, I caught the slit that ran dangerously high up her thigh.

But it was the necklace that made the whole look transcendent.

I had borrowed it from Cartier’s private collection. It was a piece from the 1920s that had once belonged to a duchess whose name I couldn’t remember. Sapphires and diamonds that caught the light with every breath she took. The stones rested against her collarbone, drawing attention to the graceful line of her neck.

“Adrian?” She touched the necklace nervously. “Is it too much? I feel like I’m wearing someone’s retirement fund.”

“You are wearing someone’s retirement fund,” I confirmed, crossing to her. “Several retirement funds, actually. That piece is insured for more than most people make in a lifetime.”

“That’s not helping my anxiety.”

“You look incredible.” I took her hand, turning her slowly so I could see the full effect. “Absolutely incredible. Like old Hollywood glamour meets modern elegance.”

Her cheeks flushed. “You’re just saying that because you picked out the dress.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true.” I lifted her hand to my lips. “Elizabeth, you’re going to outshine every model on that runway tonight. I have a feeling this dress is going to sell out once people see it on you. Remind me to call production and tell them to increase this one. The models don’t have your figure. They don’t wear the dress. The dress wears them. But you? Damn.”

“Now I know you’re lying.” But she was smiling that pleased, slightly embarrassed smile I’d come to adore.

“I’m not lying. Trust me. No one is going to be able to take their eyes off you. Don’t be nervous or feel weird when people stare. And everyone is going to ask you if it’s a Blackwell. Let them know it will be for sale summer next year.”

“Summer next year! This isn’t even for sale yet?”

I grinned. “Nope. We’re teasing the new collection.”

She groaned. “I don’t know if I’m terrified or feeling lucky.”

“Both,” I said.

She adjusted my tie. “I like this look on you.”

The slim fit suit wasn’t my typical style. More of Sebastian’s thing, but I supposed we were all stepping out of our comfort zones.

“We should go,” I said instead, offering my arm. “Briggs will have my head if we’re late.”

She took my arm and it was like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. We fit so perfectly together. We made our way through the corridors toward the Galerie des Batailles. I could hear the buzz of the crowd already, the anticipation building.

“Nervous?” I asked.

“A little. This is Versailles. In France. Where they invented fashion.” She squeezed my arm. “What if I trip? What if I say something stupid to someone important?”

“You won’t. And even if you did, you’d do it with such charm that they’d find it endearing.”

“You have entirely too much faith in me.”

“I have exactly the right amount of faith in you.”

“This is incredible,” Elizabeth breathed beside me as we stood backstage watching the organized chaos of final preparations. Models in various stages of dress moved between stations, makeup artists made last-minute adjustments, and Briggs calmly directed traffic with his tablet like a conductor with an orchestra.

“Briggs doesn’t mess around,” I said. “When he commits to something, it’s going to be flawless.”

“Must be nice having a brother who’s actually organized.”