Page 50 of All the Gossip from Paris (Royal Fashion #2)

Papeete, Tahiti

A year and a bit later

Sophie ran her skilled gaze over the silver piping on the hem of the gown one last time. She’d already checked it before she’d left the house an hour earlier, but haute couture habits died hard. If the evening gown wasn’t perfect, she wouldn’t hand it over to her client.

“I think that’s perfect,” she said, taking a little time to relish the moment.

Another of her made to order gowns was complete. Not haute couture, but still something special. She’d established a new creative path forward—one which was truly her own.

“You have such amazing skills, Sophie. The diplomatic community in Papeete might be small, but we are all going to miss you,” said the diplomat’s wife.

She gave a nod of thanks. “Who knows? We may be back here again someday. Liam loves French Polynesia as much as I do. It will remain forever in our hearts.”

They had travelled the world over the past year, but some places seemed to capture the imagination better than others. Tahiti with its black sandy beaches and stunning blue lagoons was one of those places.

But life never stopped moving. Liam’s photography work meant they rarely stayed for long in one place.

This four month stop in the South Pacific had been their longest. She would miss the warmth of the local people, the white and yellow Tiare flowers they wore in their hair.

Most of all she would miss the nights where she and Liam sat outside on the deck of their little rented house, talking into the late hours while watching the sun set over Coco Lagoon.

She packed up her things, and after processing the last payment on her mobile banking app, Sophie said.

“I’ve emailed you the care instructions.

Make sure you store the gown in the breathable garment bag I have provided.

I’ve also included the details of the only professional garment cleaner in Papeete whom I would trust to handle any stains. And for repairs…”

“Send the gown to you in Paris,” said the woman.

It was hard enough trusting others with cleaning a custom made gown. Sophie drew the line at letting anyone else touch her designs.

Bidding her client a tearful farewell, she headed out to her car. The boxy blue Fiat was a far cry from the luxury Audi she’d been used to getting around Paris in, but it was perfect for the narrow roads on the island.

Once in her car, Sophie dialed Liam’s number.

“Salut chérie. Je viens de quitter la ville,” she said, when he picked up the call.

“Um. Ville. Oh, you are just leaving town. Got it.”

An easy grin found its way to her lips. Liam’s command of French was getting better every day. They had been right to come to Tahiti. It helped to immerse him in the French language.

“How did things go with the gown? All done?”

“Oui. And paid for which is perfect timing, as we’ll need to grab some snacks at the market on Saturday before we fly out.”

Liam was silent on the other end of the line. Sophie could just imagine his brain processing her words.

“Why do we need to buy food for the plane?” he asked.

Bingo. He’d figured it out.

“Because they only have economy seats available if we want to fly to New York on Saturday. And just to make things even better…”

She sighed. “They’re giving us a five hour layover in Los Angeles after we arrive in the US. And we have to collect our bags.”

Liam let out a whimper. “That’s just cruel.”

Her world weary traveler had become so used to flying in First or Business Class that the prospect of being back in Coach now horrified him.

“The good news is we leave Papeete early in the afternoon, and we arrive in New York early afternoon their time. The Royal Resorts team will pick us up at the airport and we can be tucked up in our favorite hotel suite not long after we arrive,” she said.

Nineteen hours of flying and layovers would take it out of them, but so be it. At the end of their journey was the first birthday party for their niece Amélie. Camille and Ryan would be expecting them to attend, and this aunt and uncle wouldn’t dare disappoint.

“Sorry, but all the other flights were fully booked. I even checked with the travel agent in town. We were lucky to get these. The only alternative was to fly to New Zealand and then get a flight to the US. But that would have added another whole day’s worth of travel,” explained Sophie.

The old Sophie would have simply picked up the phone and called someone in the Royal family to send a private jet, to collect them.

But she was growing as a person. Finally understanding that her life was and had always been, one of immense privilege.

So Economy class, with its onerous baggage limits, it was.

“We will need to go through our gear and see what else we can donate to our friends,” said Liam.

“I’ll check my clothes and sort out what I can give to some of the local women. I had a few things already marked, but I’ll be ruthless this time,” replied Sophie.

They were giving up their little green and pink house on the lagoon. After they had visited New York, they were going back to Paris for an extended period.

Now seemed as good a time as any to find new homes for the things they had collected during their stay. Sophie had already returned the sewing machine and overlocker which a local tailor had rented to her for her dressmaking work.

This time in Tahiti had been precious. They’d had four wonderful months where Liam had been free to work on his photography portfolio.

During that time he’d lined up assignments that suited their future travel needs.

In the past he’d just taken any gig that came his way; now he was being more strategic with his career plans.

The thirty minute drive from the capital to their home on Coco Lagoon was one of Sophie’s favorite trips. The narrow roads and local traffic had taught her to slow down and simply enjoy the drive. She’d get to where she was going when she got there.

After hanging up from Liam, she turned on some music. Her Spotify 90’s track list instantly gifted her a thumping dose of Ricky Martin.

“Allez. Allez. Allez!”

Sophie sang along with the song which had been the anthem for the FIFA World Cup when it was held in France in the late 90’s. As she did, a tear rolled down her cheek. First stop, New York. Then she was going home.

I can’t wait to see Rollo again.

* * *

The sun was low in the sky by the time Sophie turned off the main road, and navigated the little car up the bumpy driveway which led to the cute little house she and Liam called home. Seeing the pretty fairy lights which hung from the front porch twinkling in the fading light always made her smile.

“Bébé, où es-tu?” she called as she opened the front door.

“Out back,” came the reply.

Liam, who was clad in a sleeveless linen shirt and floral shorts, was standing by the swimming pool. He turned and gave her one of his panty-dropping, heart-stopping, come-to-bed grins. “Hey you. Glad to see you finally made it home.”

Her roguish lover was scruffy around the edges, but she loved the sight of his tattoos peeking out from under his shirt.

Sophie gave a little skip, and leapt into Liam’s arms. “Wherever you are waiting for me, will always be home.” She peppered his face with kisses, then let him return the favor.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

He laughed at their ongoing joke. This was a battle they knew neither would win, but it was always fun.

Liam cleared his throat. “Your father keeps leaving me text messages, asking why I don’t respond. He doesn’t seem to understand that there is a time difference between here and Paris. I can’t always answer his calls straight away. So will you please call him back tonight?”

Sophie had been negotiating with her father over a consulting role at his atelier. She would never come back to work full time for him, of that much she was certain. But an external role where she could have real input into the designs was something that might work.

“It’s still early in Paris. I might just reply to his email instead.”

She had to smile at the thought of her father finally embracing the twenty first century. Patrice’s departure from the atelier had apparently sped up the development of things on the tech side.

“Oh god, now he’s emailing?”

“He wants to talk to me while we are in New York for the birthday party. Says he likes how Cami and Ryan are doing some things with her design business. He thinks the House of Royal could lean in,” said Sophie, adding air quotes for effect.

“I’m just glad your father saw the light when he did and made some changes at the atelier. I think Patrice will be much better suited to his new role as head of public relations for the Paris Metro train service.”

She gave Liam a sly side-eye. He wasn’t going to let go of his dislike of her ex any time soon. “Public relations for the Paris Fashion Week designers is his new job. Clothes not carriages.”

“But in all seriousness, I’m glad your parents will be in New York next week. I need to speak to your father. That’s of course if you’ll let me. I want your permission before I talk to Francois.”

Sophie’s brows furrowed. Why would Liam need her permission to speak to Francois?

Oh.

And that’s when she finally noticed the music playing in the background. It was Savage Garden. “I Knew I Loved You.” Liam had managed to find the perfect 90’s song for the perfect moment.

The perfect moment.

She was still letting that life changing thought sink in as Liam went down on bended knee.

“I love you. You have made everything in my life wonderful. I couldn’t live a day without you Sophie Royal. So I’m asking you to make sure I never have to imagine such an existence. Will you marry me?”

Liam had changed her life for the better, shown her a world where she could be seen. Where her creations were valued. He’d even taught her how to travel with a backpack rather than two thirty inch hardshell suitcases.

And, just like him, she couldn’t imagine a day without them being together.

Her answer was simple. A vow that meant forever.

“Yes.”