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“More like incredibly chaotic,” Annie jokes. “But in the best possible way.”
Philip grins. “That’s quite the story. And tell me, do you enjoy being a nanny more than dodging Hollywood executives?”
Annie laughs. “Let’s just say I prefer planning pool parties to mollifying directors.”
They laugh again, and I realize—selfishly—that I’m relieved she’s here.
I’ve been attending events and throwing these parties alone for years, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy them. I know how to network, how to schmooze when necessary, but personal socialization isn’t my strong suit.
Robin had always balanced me out in these situations. And now, without her, I’d simply resigned myself to just getting through the night.
It’s not like I’ve never taken a date to an event before, but it isn’t the same. A date is just someone else you have to entertain. It’s why my attempts at dating tended to fizzle outside of the bedroom.
But Annie?
She makes it easier.
She makes everything easier.
“You know,” Abigail says, tilting her head as she studies Annie, “I’ve been admiring your dress all night. Who’s the designer? I have an event coming up next month, and I haven’t been satisfied with anything I’ve seen so far.”
Annie’s cheeks turn pink, and I know what’s coming before she says it.
“Oh—um—”
“Annie made it herself,” I say smoothly. “She’s a woman of many talents, which I’ve only discovered recently myself.”
Abigail’s eyes widen. “You made this?”
Annie tugs at the skirt of her dress, clearly flustered. “Yeah, I… designed it—and made it—myself.”
Abigail looks at her like she’s just announced she built the mansion with her bare hands. “That is incredible. Truly. Do you have formal training? You’re so young!”
Annie waves a hand, as if dismissing the compliment. “I was in fashion school before this whole nanny thing happened.”
“I’m shocked a designer hasn’t snatched you up,” Abigail says, clearly in awe.
“Oh well.” Annie laughs softly, clearly not used to the praise and attention. “I interned with Bianchi Atelier for a while.”
Abigail’s jaw nearly drops. “Bianchi Atelier?”
EvenIrecognize that name. I’m not very into fashion as a hobby, but in my line of work, it’s necessary to know what’s what.
Philip whistles under his breath. “Now, that’s impressive.”
Annie shifts, looking bashful. “It was just an internship.”
“An internship at one of the most exclusive fashion houses in the world,” Abigail says, eyes still wide. “You’re ridiculously talented. Why on earth were you working as a receptionist at Silver Screen?”
It’s a good question.
One I suddenly want the answer to.
Annie shrugs. “Well, most internships in this field are for reputation and opportunity… not pay.” She laughs softly again. “So I put everything on hold for a while to work, and that’s how I landed at Silver Screen.”
I frown slightly. I hadn’t known that.
Abigail shakes her head in disbelief. “Well, let me just say—I would kill for a dress like this.”