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“But I know you have closer friends and family.”
His brows pulled together. “I do, but have you ever wanted some time for yourself? I never got that. Years of working all the time, years of trying to prove myself to everyone, and constantly doing what everyone wants. I think I’ve only been in this house a half dozen times since I bought it five years ago, and I’m in the studio working when I come here most of the time. I never enjoy it. But I want that to change. I want to be private right now, just the two of us.”
I lowered my head. “Okay.”
“Come sit next to me,” he said and tugged me down to the seat. “What’s the rush? I haven’t met your parents, either. We’re having fun. Let’s not spoil it.”
I swallowed and didn’t say anything. In truth, I just wanted to feel closer to him, and not only physically.
Paul took my hand and rubbed the back with his thumb. “I need to share something with you. I found out more about your birth parents.”
I frowned. “I don’t want to know.”
“But one day, you might, Nadia. If you want to know where they are and what happened to them—”
“I told you about Justus Black to confide in you, not to get you to interfere.” I grimaced. “I have parents.”
“Sometimes knowing the truth about things helps you to feel complete.”
Paul’s intentions were sincere, and what he’d done was thoughtful. Even though I didn’t want the information, I was grateful.
“Thank you. You’ve done so much for me.” I squeezed his waist.
“You do so much for me too, Nadia. Much more than you know. Now, listen to this.” He played a song with a catchy beat.
“What is that?”
“I’m writing a song called ‘Nadia’.”
My mouth fell open. “It’s not…”
“It is. Dance for me, but take your clothes off.”
“But what if someone walks in?”
“They’ll walk back out.”
I laughed. “Okay, for you.”
Turning in a circle, I danced as Paul played the song, then Santana’s “Black Magic Woman”.
I listened to Paul play for a while, then he rose and swooped me into his arms. “You know, I always wanted to see the sunrise.”
“Why haven’t you?”
“I don’t know….” He was silent for a second. “I always thought I had time. But I learned life is short. You must do everything now.”
He cuddled me in his arms and settled us down on a patio lounge chair. There, we watched the sun rise over the hill. I definitely saw the appeal. It was simply stunning, yet I didn’t care as much about the beauty. In Paul’s arms was the only place I wanted to be.
Professor Elan circled the model wearing my final presentation submission. The dress—a modified A-lineillusion tulle and silk dress embroidered with colorful crystal flowers—took two weeks of ten-hour days to complete. But even if it had taken all semester, her grade would still stand.
“What inspired this design?”
“Versailles.”
My answer brought whispers and snickers from some of my classmates. After Paris, I was no longer anonymous. Everyone learned I spent time with Paul Crane. Our public displays of affection appeared natural in Paris. The photos of our trip to California had surfaced, and Paul had been right; there was more public outcry over the plane ride. Still, my relationship with Paul cast doubt on my work. Instead of boosting my confidence, I felt more and more on the defense.
“Laugh all you want,” Professor Elan said, her eyes narrowed on the students, “but Nadia didn’t play safe. Most of you failedbecause you lack the imagination to elevate your style.” She turned to me. “You pass, Nadia. I’m recommending this dress and your copper design for this year’s collection. If you’re selected, it will become a part of the school’s presentation pre-fashion week.”
