Page 23 of All the Gossip from Paris (Royal Fashion #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

It was obvious Sophie was having a blast. The smile on her face as she paraded him through the wedding reception, nodding at various people made Liam’s day. He caught the occasional “Whose that with Sophie?” as they passed the clusters of Royal guests.

She’d clearly been tasked with making sure he felt welcome and at ease tonight. It might be her job, but she was making it fun. Liam was loving every minute with her.

To think I was the idiot who’d hoped to avoid her as much as possible on this trip.

They wound their way across the floor. When they got to the nearest of the lavishly set up food stations which were located at various spots around the ballroom, they stopped.

While he started checking out the cornucopia of platters and dishes, Sophie let go of Liam’s arm.

After reaching for a plate, she passed it to him.

“Eat. These Royal events always start out polite and diplomatic. But as soon as the male German and Spanish cousins get a few drinks under their belts, that’s when the fun and games usually begin.

The last thing you want is to be left hungry if Mama orders the catering team to clear away the food. ”

Liam glanced back at the room. He couldn’t imagine these people lowering themselves to any real shenanigans. Then again, he didn’t know them all that well.

Everyone was dressed to the nines. Camille was in her cream silk haute couture wedding dress.

The men wore expertly tailored tuxedos. The rest of the Royal women were dressed in stunning designer gowns.

The dazzling array of diamonds and precious jewels which glittered under the bright chandeliers would put Tiffany’s New York City store to shame.

It’s a good thing I left my trusty old Casio watch in my hotel room.

Liam picked up a smoked salmon tartlet and popped it into his mouth. He chewed it as slowly as he could, savoring its incredible flavor.

After swallowing his mouthful, Liam remarked. “I think my mouth might have just had an orgasm.”

He winced at hearing his own tactless words, but relaxed when Sophie nodded her agreement. He’d found a foodie soul mate.

There’d been a time when he’d loved great food, when every stylish platter didn’t make his chest ache. Before heartbreak made everything taste like bitter ashes in his mouth.

Not that long ago he’d been convinced he’d never find his way back to the joy he used to know. Yet here he was feeling that same spark again.

And it’s all because of her.

Sophie picked up a small round hors d’oeuvre and handed it to him. “Here—try this arancini ball. One of my Italian cousins brought some of the chefs over from the Royal Resorts hotel in Rome to cook for the wedding,” said Sophie.

Liam had eaten plenty of arancini balls over the years at various events. The second he took a bite, all previous memories of this dish were swept away. The food at this wedding was next level and then some.

“I don’t know if I will ever be able to look at another arancini ball the same way after this one. I feel like my entire life has been a lie,” he said.

Sophie snorted a laugh. “Wait ‘til I show you the sushi bar. Papa flew in two of the top ranked sushi chefs from Tokyo. I’m trying to figure out a way to bribe the officials at Charles de Gaulle airport, so they stop the chefs from leaving the country. They could come and live here at the chateau. Imagine all that sushi.”

The expression on her face was one of pure mischief. Liam was game to play along. “There’s a word for what you’re planning. In English it’s what we call kidnapping.”

“In French it’s enlèvement. Which sounds much more elegant to me.”

“Call it what you like, it will still get you twenty years in La Santé prison.”

She waved his words away. “Details. Details. I’ll just bribe the judge.”

“It looks like the two of you are having a fun time of things,” said a male voice. The smile on Sophie’s face disappeared in an instant.

Liam slowly turned around.

Patrice, the self-opinionated douchebag, came to stand alongside him. As casually as he could, Liam popped the rest of his arancini ball into his mouth. He took his time slowly chewing it, figuring that such open disregard would annoy Sophie’s ex.

“We are having fun. Mama asked me to take care of Liam at the wedding. He doesn’t speak any languages other than English, so I’m playing hostess,” said Sophie.

Liam caught the expression of disgust as Patrice sniffed.

“Really? I would have thought since your brother has just married into one of the world’s most powerful families that you would have at least bothered to download Duolingo.

” Patrice laughed at his own pathetic jest, then added.

“Or were you too busy watching people make fools of themselves on TikTok?”

Sophie might have said her cousins were likely to kick off at some point, but if this dick kept going, Liam might be the first one to throw hands. He took in a deep calming breath.

“No. I was too busy working to learn more than the basics of a few languages. But who knows? Sophie might offer to give me some French lessons in private,” replied Liam. His carefully chosen words were rewarded when a flash of anger crossed Patrice’s face.

Careful Patty boy, your jealousy is showing. And its ugly.

“Is there something you need, Patrice?” asked Sophie, through a tight smile.

* * *

What Patrice needed was to fuck right off.

Most other days she could handle his self-important presence, but today was not one of them.

Patrice wasn’t family; he was only invited because he’d worked for Francois for a few years.

His official title was atelier manager, but most of his time was spent schmoozing and dining with the fashion elite of Paris.

Occasionally he brought in one or two new clients, and that seemed to be enough for him to remain at the House of Royal.

In truth it was Sophie who did the lion’s share of the work at managing the atelier. And while her father might refuse to see the reality of things, Patrice had to know how much she did. Not that his inflated ego would ever allow him to admit such a thing.

Her ex seemed determined to linger in her life. To stop her from moving on.

“Yes. There is something I need, Sophie. I wanted to speak to you about the garments for Haute Couture Week. That’s of course if you consider them important,” replied Patrice.

“It’s my sister’s wedding. Can’t this wait?” replied Sophie, doing her best to ignore the irritation swirling in her belly.

Patrice, as per usual, didn’t take the hint.

He stepped closer. “No it can’t wait. The atelier’s been closed all week.

I need to come back to one of our biggest clients tonight with an update on her order.

But rest assured it won’t take long. You and your …

” He looked Liam slowly up and down. “… guest, can get back to feeding your faces as soon as we are finished.”

She should say no. Should tell Patrice that he didn’t rule her life. The days of her being at his beck and call were well and truly over. But they’d played this scene out far too many times before tonight. She couldn’t imagine it would end any differently.

If she didn’t do as asked, Patrice would be in her father’s ear telling Francois that his spoiled, indulged daughter didn’t care about the family business.

And then her father would want a word with her.

She would get the same stern lecture from him that he’d been giving Sophie for the past twenty odd years.

Loyalty to him and his creative vision was all that mattered.

It was easier to bend. She feared if she didn’t, she’d run the risk of breaking, and never fully healing. “Liam, would you please excuse me for a moment. I need to speak to Patrice.”

He gave a nod. “Of course. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

She followed Patrice out of the ballroom. He headed straight for the outside balcony. Grabbing a hold of his jacket sleeve, she pulled him back.

“This gown is silk. And the back is open. I’ll freeze outside.”

Patrice glanced at Sophie’s gown then said. “It is cold out there.” She took heart from knowing he was a demanding pig, but he wasn’t a complete villain.

“Alright, let’s go in here,” he said, pointing to the small ante room which ran off the main ballroom. It was with a good deal of reluctance that Sophie did as he asked.

She took one look at the black leather couch which sat along the right hand wall, and immediately decided against sitting on it. Patrice was in one of his moods. Which meant he’d love nothing more than being able to tower over Sophie.

Her suspicions were quickly confirmed. The second they got inside, and the door was closed, her ex started in on her. “What is it with you Royal girls and Americans?”

He never deigned to call either her or Camille women. The best he could manage was to reduce them to the level of children.

“Camille is happily married to Ryan. He seems a great guy and will make a wonderful father,” said Sophie.

“And what about the brother? You appear to be very friendly with him.”

His words dripped with jealousy. With a level of spite she hadn’t seen in Patrice for a long time. Then again, he hadn’t been around when she’d been with anyone else.

How does it feel to watch another man actually see me?

That unexpected thought, thrilled Sophie. Liam did see her. He’d said as much that night in New York.

“Liam is family. Ok, extended family, but he is now a part of my life. Mama asked me to take special care of him this evening. To show him a good time. That is exactly what I am doing.”

She chose her words carefully, making sure they could be construed both ways. If asked she would say they were purely innocent. The dark cloud which gathered around Patrice informed her he’d taken them exactly how they were meant to have been received. As a taunt.

He grabbed a hold of her arm, and leaned in close. “Do not play games with me, Sophie. You can stop pretending like you don’t care. You know I’m the best thing that has ever happened to you. And once you get over this foolish thing you have about me and other women, you’ll see I’m right.”

“Let go. Let go or I’ll scream,” she snapped.

“No you won’t. You wouldn’t dare cause a scene at your sister’s wedding.”

He was right. They both knew it. To Sophie’s relief, Patrice let go of her arm. As he reached the door, he turned back to her, and snarled. “Stay away from Liam Collins. I won’t say it again.”

Sophie lingered alone in the room for a while, quietly berating herself. “Why do I let him talk to me like that?”

The guilt and shame she’d carried throughout their relationship, as she’d endured Patrice’s numerous infidelities, still lingered.

They’d been burned deep into her soul. It was the only reason she could think of for having not told her parents the truth of why she’d finally ended things with Patrice.

As much as she hated herself for the way she was, there was no fighting it. She’d go back to the wedding reception and be the perfect hostess to Liam. Make sure he met all the right people at the wedding. Ate all the best food.

And then at the end of the night she’d say goodbye. She would do as she had been told. Like she’d always done.

“My name is Sophie Royal, and I am a compulsive people pleaser.”