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CHAPTER30
SIMON
It’s beeneleven days since Jacqueline’s visit, and I’ve barely seen Autumn stand still at this point. She’s been running here and dashing there. She sits in the thankfully now-clean floor to spread out her pieces because we don’t have a table large enough for her to work on, but she says it reminds her of being at FIT and doing work in her tiny, shared studio apartment.
I think she’s ready, though. Or if she’s not, she’ll have to make peace with where the designs are because time’s almost up. It’s Wednesday afternoon, a mere forty-eight hours before model call for the showcase.
The door buzzer downstairs rings, and I can see excitement rush through Autumn, from her head to her toes. Her cheeks flush, and she curls a red lock around her finger.
“Nervous?” I ask.
“A little,” she confesses.
We’ve talked about this moment and her concerns. She’s still upset with Beatrice, but also, she’s worried that the other designers will hold her tantrum against her, or like Jacqueline, think that Autumn went after me to get a leg up in the competition. There’s a whole slew of possible landmines, and Autumn wants to address them without making them goboom!
I escort Autumn down the elevator, ready to go to battle for her if need be, though I seriously doubt that will be needed. She can fight her battles on her own and does a better job than I usually do, given the way Jacqueline has been nearly eating out of Autumn’s hand over the last two weeks.
Downstairs, I open the door, and there’s a moment of still silence before...
“The show may begin, now that I’ve arrived,” Katarina says airily with a glint of humor in her eye.
“Some crazy shit you got going on here, bitch.” Molly, of course.
“Thank you for hosting us,” Yori says politely.
Any concerns seem to have vanished into thin air as they rush Autumn for hugs. Except Beatrice holds back, standing behind the other women at Jacqueline’s side. Albert and Tobias also stay back, silently watchful about what’s about to go down.
Autumn moves toward Beatrice, and the other designers step out of the way like they’re not sure if a hair-pulling fight is going to break out. Or maybe just a slap of Beatrice’s cheek? Or hell, I never know what to expect with Autumn, so she might simply hug Beatrice.
We all wait with bated breath to see. Autumn told me that she’s not even sure what her reaction will be. Beatrice awaits her judgment with tears on the verge of spilling over as she bites her bottom lip.
“Why?” Autumn asks gently, but Beatrice flinches as though she yelled it.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I went along with it. It seemed like the only way to...” Beatrice glances at Jacqueline, who frowns.
“I’ll admit that I did quite a fair job of encouragingMademoiselleDupont to go along with my plan. I made it seem as though it wasin her best intereststo do so.” Jacqueline’s admission is delivered matter-of-factly, and everyone can read between the lines that she promised Beatrice a win if she went along. That’s a hard prize to turn down when you’re an aspiring designer, truly willing to do almost anything to make your dream come true.
I know Autumn understands that more than others might, given the bumpy road she had to take to reach her dreams. She’s had to go against her mother, work while going to school, and do extraordinary things while assisting Nora. If someone could wave a magic wand and make that journey disappear, I don’t know many who would be strong enough to turn that down.
“Thank you,” Autumn tells my aunt before turning to Beatrice. “I forgive you. Fashion is cutthroat, we know that. But friendships are more valuable than any outfit.” Beatrice sags in relief, the tears finally falling over. “And it turned out for the best in the end. Otherwise,” she warns, not a pushover in the slightest, “I might not be nearly so forgiving. Now come here.”
They embrace, Beatrice’s head resting on Autumn’s shoulder. Well, as close to it as she can get. Autumn is on her tippy toes, but Beatrice still has to bend her knees to reach her with their significant height difference.
Molly, Katarina, and Yori join the hug-fest, and it’s girl time. They laugh and cry, talking over one another and generally ignoring that the show starts in less than two days.
Jacqueline clears her throat, ready to get to work, but I catch her eye and hold up one finger.Let them have this, I tell her with my eyes. She looks at the women again, and I can see something in her expression that looks like affection. Or maybe longing. When my aunt began her fashion journey, she didn’t have friends and cheerleaders to support her, and witnessing the women coming together to do just that must seem both strange and wonderful.
After several minutes, I hear Autumn say my name.
“You aren’t mad about me and Simon?”
They laugh, and Yori tells her, “We all knew.”
Autumn shakes her head vehemently. “You did not!”
Molly pushes her shoulder. “You’d bust ass to get as much done as possible, and then leave to ‘work at home’ or ‘visit the park for inspiration’ and come back the next day with barely anything else done since you left. And you’d have a dreamy smile on your face.” Molly makes a vacant-eyed, open-mouthed smiling expression that I think is supposed to be what Autumn looked like.
I did that to her, I think cockily.
