Page 59 of Corrupted


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“He’s going to lose his mind,” she says, her voice so low I have to strain to hear it.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Did you make that dress?”

“Yeah,” I say and glance at myself in the full-length mirror. “Do you like it?”

“It’s fantastic. I want one.”

“When I get my business up and running, I’ll see what I can do.”

“And that lipstick, it’s a great color.”

“My friend gave me this. Hang on.” I dig through my purse. “I picked up another tube and it would go so great with your amber hair. It’s yours.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you’ll love it.” I snort, remembering the first time I put it on and how Cason reacted. “Be careful with it, though. The color is like an aphrodisiac.”

She chuckles like she doesn’t believe it. “Well thanks.”

I step into the hall and pull a pair of heels from the coat closet.

“You’re going to kick ass in the fashion world,” she says as I slide into a winter coat. The weather is a heck of a lot colder than it was in Cannes.

We head outside to her car. I stare at the people walking along the sidewalks as she drives and soon enough she pulls up to Skylight Square.

“What the...”

“It’s Fashion Week,” she says. “And we’re going.”

“I...don’t have tickets.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I do.”

I climb from the car, hardly able to believe it. “But you’re not really interested in fashion, are you?” I ask.

“I like a nice dress as much as the next person,” she says with a grin. “Tonight is for you, Londyn.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Twenty minutes later we’re sitting in the front row. The front row! Surrounded by other designers.

“Isn’t this exciting?” Peyton asks me.

“I’m still in shock.”

“You just wait,” she says with a grin. “I bet you’re glad I made you change, now.”

I laugh. “I would have killed you.”

“I know.”

The first model comes onto the stage, and my pulse leaps, but as she strolls the catwalk my heart falls into my stomach. I glance at Peyton who is staring at me, a huge smile on her face. What the hell is this? Cason’s way of showing me what it’s like to have your ideas ripped off? I turn back to the model, taking in my design on her body. Another model walks onstage, and once again she’s in something I sketched while I was in Cannes. My stomach coils, and if I wasn’t in the front row, I’d storm out of here. But I am not about to draw any attention to myself. Tears prick my eyes and I try to hide them.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Peyton asks.

I shake my head as one more model parades up and down, and the crowd claps. Well, at least they like my designs. With my throat tight, I wait for the designer to come out, to claim his glory, but when Cason walks onstage with Luis Laurent, I nearly sink to the floor.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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