Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
I don’t do a grand entrance this time. I simply walk in.
Madame Jacqueline is waiting for me. Definitely not a good sign.
She’s a tall, regal beauty, even more so in person than through the computer screen. Her black hair is up in a ballerina-worthy bun, she has a thick coat of mascara on her lashes and plum lipstick on her pursed lips, and she’s wearing a gray pantsuit tailored to perfection.
“Bonjour.”
I think she’s searching for my name, so I offer, “Autumn Fisher. It’s lovely to meet you, Madame Corbin.”
She sniffs the air as though she smells something rank. Oh, God, is it me? I was working pretty hard to get this outfit pulled together quickly, and that catastrophe back there definitely gave me the cold sweats.
I look around the room, trying to judge whether she behaved this taciturnly with the other finalists. But they’re all wide-eyed and seem surprised.
Molly is wearing the yellow tube top as a dress, with a rainbow’s worth of boas wrapped down her arms and legs, making her look like Big Bird at a Pride Parade. Katarina is wearing an orange mu-mu that must be ten sizes too big because she looks like a deflated balloon. Beatrice has on some sort of dominatrix outfit that doesn’t look particularly crazy, nor does she seem all that uncomfortable. If I found out that it was from her personal wardrobe, I wouldn’t bat an eye. Yori, on the other hand, definitely gives me pause. She’s naked, or nearly so. She has taupe tape covering her nipples and delicate chain jewelry draped over her hips. I don’t look too closely, but surely, she has on flesh-toned underwear underneath, right?
“Interesting selections, ladies. I feel this has given me some insights into your creativity and imagination, as well as your work,” Jacqueline tells us. “I look forward to seeing what you create for this week’s fashion show.”
She leans over and whispers something to Tobias, and Molly bumps my elbow with her own. “Psst, what happened? You were almost done when I left.”
Speaking out of the side of my mouth, I tell her, “I messed up big-time. Got lost and went into the wrong room. I twerked in singing WAP to a private meeting.”
“You did not!” she hisses, eyes questioning whether I’m fucking with her. I stare back stone-faced. “Shiiit. Hopefully, it was some nobody that doesn’t matter.”
It wasn’t.
I’m not that lucky. The sexy guy with the scowl and voice to die for? I know that face. It was Simon Corbin, the heir apparent to the Corbin empire.
I don’t tell Molly that, still thinking that maybe I’ll wake up back in my Paris apartment bed. I’ll laugh at the crazy nightmare my brain conjured up to cope with the excitement and stress of the competition.
And none of this will have actually happened.
CHAPTER 4
SIMON
Ten minutes ago . . .
Pierre Venerable is supposedly forward-thinking and cultured, but as conservative and arrogant as he is pompous. If I were to never see him at a company function or be forced to entertain his condescension during a meeting, my life would only be better.
Not that I’m whining over the luxury I’ve been blessed with. Quite the opposite, in fact.
But that doesn’t mean Venerable isn’t exasperating.
“Simon, I understand that you feel qualified to lead us in a new direction. I even agree that something must be done to right this ship, but I am not certain this contest of yours is the course correction we need.”
Only experience at dealing with snobbishness for my entire life keeps my eyes from rolling. Venerable’s family ancestry has a background in the Navy, and he owns some rather large shipping interests, but throwing every nautical term you know into non-water related conversations is overkill.
I sniff, trying to hide my frustration. “Monsieur Venerable, while I will agree the challenges of the past few seasons have been concerning, House Corbin is, and will remain, the foremost respected brand in France. Once more, this competition will provide a fresh injection of vibrancy, allowing us to tap into the quickly changing global markets beyond French aristocracy.”
Venerable’s face says everything he’s thinking. I can practically smell his disdain.
To him, I’m nothing more than Jacqueline Corbin’s pretty nephew and an example of nepotism at its finest. Once, he would’ve been correct. I was nothing more than a pretty face, literally serving as the male face for House Corbin at my aunt’s behest.
With age came the desire to be more and do more. I began by taking a deeper interest in the photography and representation of the brand during my model shoots. My interest quickly grew into learning the business side, and I immersed myself in every department, wanting to know as much as possible.
Despite my last name, not because of it. I have earned my position as an executive director.