Page 14 of Everything About You

“Absolutely phenomenal,” he says, beaming. “How did we even get to talking about this?”

“We were talking about you succeeding and making a name for yourself,” I remind him. “There are definitely people who will

root for you. People who are rooting for you.”

Rhodes groans. “I don’t know, Milo. Sometimes it feels like my mum is the only one rooting for me. How pathetic is that?”

“Well, it’s not true, and even if it were, it isn’t pathetic.”

“If I’m being honest, Milo, she practically spoon-fed me the idea of Amalia.” He puts his hands in his pockets. “It was my

idea in the end, but she did seem to sort of guide me there.”

I’m not sure how to feel about that, but I guess he still hasn’t done anything outside of “playing by the rules.”

As we walk through one of the reception rooms, I consider how much I don’t know about Rhodes. There’s so much about his life

here in Paris that’s a mystery, and as for his life in London, I have next to no details at all.

“So you and your mom are close?”

He smiles. “Yeah, we are. She’s the best.”

“That’s so nice,” I say.

“Yeah. She’s the reason I’ve come to love Maison Dauphine so much, obviously.

After watching her wear their designs my whole life, and seeing how she’s got this relationship with the brand and everything.

She’s taught me a lot about the history and the craftsmanship.

Actually, one year, Mum said if I got a seven on my maths GCSE, I’d be able to go as her plus-one to a show. ”

“Oh? Did you get a seven?”

“Got a bloody nine, didn’t I?”

“And a nine is better, right? You half lost me at GCSE, but I’m using context clues.”

He grins. “Nine is the best, actually. My only nine ever.”

I perk up. “That’s a good motivator, I’d say.”

“Oh, yeah. While Ollie’s smashing it in the academy with Armoury—Dad bought him a car for being top scorer one season—I’m

cramming for an exam so I can go to a fashion show.”

“I think it’s kind of cute.”

Rhodes squints. “Cute?”

“W-w-well.” I stammer. “Cute, like. Just that you wanted to go with your mom to a fashion show.”

He turns his attention to a window, looking out at the gardens. “Right. Cute.”

“I didn’t mean it in any kind of—”

“It’s okay, I’m only messing with you about it.” He shrugs. “Guess it’s kind of cute.”

Looking out at the gardens beside him, I smile.

“You know—again, smaller scale—but it’s kind of similar with my mom and me.

She has a boutique back home, and she’s opening a new store in the Hamptons.

She’s taken me to some trade shows and things like that.

A lot of them are in New York, which is always really fun.

I learned it all from her. She had this Maison Dauphine coffee-table book, and as a kid I was obsessed.

She always picks a few pieces from each collection to sell in the store too.

Mostly accessories, but some ready-to-wear every now and then. ”

“Wow, that’s really cool.” Rhodes’s gaze drifts. “Must be a really nice shop.”

“Yeah, it’s her whole world, basically.” I catch myself. “ Our whole world.”

“Mums. Where would we even be without them?”

“No idea,” I say.

“Honestly, I reckon I’d be much worse off.” He pulls a face.

“Same, probably,” I agree.

We spend the rest of the afternoon wandering around the Petit Trianon and the grounds, mostly just sightseeing like two pals

who aren’t competing. I didn’t believe it could be done, but I was wrong, even if I do have to shove down the random thoughts

that pop up about Amalia or Café 57. We wander until our feet are sore and it’s about dinnertime. We take the train from Versailles,

and Rhodes nods off for a moment but quickly jerks awake, complaining about how much it’d hurt his neck to sleep like this.

We spend the rest of the ride going through some of our emails until we reach the Pont de l’Alma stop.

While we might have spent the afternoon like we’re just two pals, there’s still this distinct understanding between us that

once we’ve emerged from the station, we are going our separate ways.

So once we’ve said good night, I ground myself, and then I text Celeste as I walk back to the apartment.

Me: How are things? How is Gran?

Celeste: Things are okay. She seems to be doing okay? Stable. Just not eating a lot.

Me: I’m glad she’s stable. Hopefully her appetite will pick up

Celeste: Hope so!

Celeste: Distract me. How was the event?

Me: Well, I’m sort of confused... Me and Rhodes had this argument in the car, and then he totally outdid Café 57 by bringing

Amalia Astor, but afterward he just brought me macarons and insisted we “do something fun.”

Me: Even typing that, I can see it is clearly a tactic

Me: And to think it almost worked.

Celeste: Hmmm... maybe he just wanted to hang out

Celeste: Or if he brought you macarons, maybe he still wants to do a lil more

I blink at the phone in my hand as there is a frenzy of butterflies in my stomach at the idea. I need to mow them down at

any cost necessary, because if Rhodes—with all of his charm and good looks—did want to take me on a date still, that would

only be a distraction, and one I made clear is not an option.

Focus, Milo. Stay focused.

Me: He brought Amalia fucking Astor! How do I even compete with that

Celeste: I guess if you really think he can’t be trusted, you have to just keep an eye on things

Celeste: But try not to jump to any conclusions?

Me: I would never