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’m certain there’s an angle here. “What do you want?”
“You.”
The plain answer doesn’t clear things up in the slightest. If anything, I’m more confused. “I’m not coming back to House Corbin or Paris.”
Taking Autumn’s hand, I make a firm point of where my loyalties lie.
My aunt looks down at our interwoven hands and returns her gaze to me. “I know. I wouldn’t ask you to. I don’t mean I want you back professionally. In fact, I think it’s quite good for you to spread your wings and see what you’re truly capable of. I think it might surprise us both.” The corners of her lips tilt up in something akin to a smile, but surely, I’m mistaken because that sounded . . . kind? She glances to Albert, who seems to give her some sort of meaningful gaze, but all I see is his neutral-faced blink, as always. Jacqueline turns her attention back to me and seemingly painfully admits, “I mean that I want you, personally. As my nephew again. I want us to be a family again.”
“Again? I’m not sure we’ve ever been a family, Jacqueline.” The use of her given name is intentional. Though she’s my aunt, I’ve never called her Aunt Jacqueline, or anything more familiar, like Auntie. We don’t have that sort of relationship, and we never have.
“That’s my fault. I might not have been the best parent . . .” She pauses to give Autumn a cold stare, which Autumn returns in equal force, making me wonder exactly what was said between the two of them the night of the last show. “But I did the best I could to teach you the things I do know—fashion, taste, elegance, the importance of hard work, and how to dream big. How to express love is, unfortunately, not one of the things I was able to teach, though it seems you’ve learned that on your own.”
Her eyes fall to our hands again, noting the ring shining brightly on Autumn’s fourth finger.
“I’d like to thank you for that, Autumn.”
“Uhm . . . I’m not going to say ‘you’re welcome’ for loving Simon because it has nothing to do with you. Especially considering everything you did to try to stop us from being together.”
My fiery redhead is getting riled up, ready to fight for me—for us—against an icon she admired and the family that should mean a lot to me. It weaves another thread of connection between our hearts, pulling us closer and closer together as one.
Jacqueline frowns heavily, her brows falling low as she ducks her head. It’s a more broken appearance than I’ve ever seen her wear. “About that. I would like to apologize. I had both of your best interests at heart, but I completely botched everything.”
“You more than botched, you fucked things up royally. So, apologize.” Autumn holds her hands out wide, giving my aunt the floor.
“What?” Jacqueline answers. “I did. I did?”
Autumn laughs mirthlessly. “No, you said you’d like to. Now’s your chance to make like Nike and just do it.”
After straightening her spine, she clips out, “I am sorry for interfering with your designs and with the two of you.” Surprisingly, it rolls off her tongue like she goes around apologizing on the regular, which I know she definitely does not.
Maybe that shows how sorry she truly is?
“Why?” I ask, needing more than an apology. I need to know why she sabotaged Autumn, why she doesn’t want me to be happy . . . why she didn’t love me as a child?
I would never say that last part aloud, but it’s there, deep inside my wounded heart.
Jacqueline traces a shape on the tabletop that I can’t decipher—either stalling or collecting her thoughts, I’m not sure which. “I’m not sure how to explain,” she admits.
“Ramble away. We can follow a muddy path through your storytime confession. Whatever it takes for you to give Simon an answer.”
Autumn doesn’t need an answer for the sabotage of her collection. She’s let that go and is looking toward the future. With Jacqueline, Autumn’s only concern is me and my feelings. I squeeze her hand tightly so she knows how much I appreciate her.
“Yes, well . . . I guess . . . when I found out that you were gallivanting all over Paris together, I’ll admit that my first thought was that you’d seduced Simon to improve your chances in the competition.”
Autumn points to her own ample chest. “Not a gold digger, just so that’s clear.”
Jacqueline nods, accepting that fact now. “At the time, though, it made sense. It wasn’t the first time.” She looks to me for confirmation, and I grunt in agreement. “There was that idea in my mind. But also, if the reverse were true, that Simon had in fact pursued you” —she flicks her eyes to Autumn this time— “I felt like it would be doing you a disservice. I didn’t want you to be distracted by him and miss out on your opportunity, because I know what something like this could mean to a young designer. I was one once, after all, and recognize how impossible it is to start from nothing and build it into an empire.” She glances at the building we’re trying to do exactly that with. “In that case, you didn’t need anything holding you back.”