Page 16 of Everything About You

Movie and TV characters make ruthless ambition look so easy. Some of them make it look so sexy—alluring, even, is the ability

to effortlessly get ahead and win using some intellectual prowess and cunning.

Though, come to think of it, how often does that end well for them?

This might be a new world record for how quickly someone learned a major life lesson the hard way. After all, I have always

known I am competitive and driven, but it turns out I might not even last as a season regular on Succession or Game of Thrones . Hell, I probably wouldn’t last one episode if this is what scheming feels like.

Once I’d left for lunch, I immediately had a sick feeling in my gut and turned around before I made it two blocks. When I

got back, however, I was met with the unfortunate realization that Haydée had already taken the boxes. The mailroom would

find it far too suspicious if I asked for them back, though I did consider if the risk might be worth clearing my conscience

and trying to make amends with karma.

I spend lunch overthinking and going in circles. I want to text Celeste for her advice, but I am beyond ashamed of this shortsighted misstep. It seems like admitting it to someone else will only feel worse in this moment.

There’s also the fact that I am torn about Rhodes in general.

I realize I am experiencing some silly emotional—and physical—response to him after our stroll through the Petit Trianon,

but it’s not like I can just abandon everything I have come to Paris for because of a crush. I was wrong to resort to such

drastic measures, but was I wrong to take a step back and realize he is still very much a threat? Regardless of how cute he

is?

All I know for sure is that it would be impossible to face him, so I spend the rest of the day claiming tasks that send me

on errands around Paris. Errands that are far, far away from Rhodes.

While I’m in the back of a car toward the end of the day, practically drowning in boxes of Maison Dauphine scarves, I send

Sophie a meme on Instagram and find comfort in scrolling through posts of some friends from back home. My mom’s boutique is

posting about a fundraiser they’re hosting at the Hamptons store in a couple of weeks. My mom would be so disappointed in

me—she’s doing something so good, while I just did something so bad.

Sophie reacts to the meme with a skull emoji, and moments later a text from her pops up.

Sophie: Are you on a sightseeing kick?

Me: Lol no, what do you mean?

Sophie: You’re just voluntarily trekking all across Paris today

Sophie: Haydée is convinced you’re up to something

Me: Great

Me: I’m not. I just wanted to get out of the office!

Sophie: Fair

Sophie: Omg, we meet IRL in two days

Me: I literally can’t wait

Sophie: Same, I just wish we were gonna have more time to hang out!

Sophie: Maybe you should come back to New York with me

Sophie: The office would be so much more fun

Me: Haha I do love New York

Me: But alas my apprenticeship is en francais

Me: Did that even make sense?

Sophie: I’m not sure but I knew what you meant lol

As I near Maison Dauphine, I search the inbox for another task so I can make sure to avoid Rhodes for the rest of the day.

If I’m lucky, he’ll even be packed up by the time I finish my last to-do.

I try to volunteer to take Yvette’s dry cleaning back to her flat once I’m back in the office, but Haydée insists I’m done

for the day.

So, I swallow and tell myself that interacting with Rhodes for five seconds won’t be bad. I can keep my composure, and there’s

no way he’ll be able to tell I am riddled with guilt over my little indiscretion.

He spins around in his chair when I enter the fashion closet, taking off a pair of over-the-ear headphones and setting them

on his desk.

“Well, regarde qui c’est !” Rhodes holds his arms out wide. “I thought you’d come back with a souvenir beret, at least.”

“Why is everyone acting like it’s so weird for me to want some fresh air?”

Chuckling, Rhodes cocks his head. “For a moment there I thought maybe you were avoiding me or something.”

“Avoiding you?” My voice cracks and I stand up straighter. “No way. Why would I be avoiding you?”

He’s still smiling, but his brows turn down.

“Of course you weren’t. Only joking. It was quiet around here, but kind of good, actually.

I got to spend some time learning more about the archiving system for a lot of the rare and delicate old dresses.

I’ve always found it so fascinating how they preserve the fabrics.

They’re sensitive to all kinds of things—the tiniest droplet of moisture or the wrong lighting. ”

“I didn’t realize you were so passionate about textiles.”

He laughs, which is probably for the best, because it came out with a bit of a threatened bite. I mean, I know he likes Maison

Dauphine, and it’s increasingly evident he does have some proclivity toward fashion, but he’s constantly outdoing me. And

I could have learned some of this if I’d been here, which all goes back to me avoiding him after what I’ve done.

I am such an idiot.

“It’s interesting stuff,” he says. “Honestly!”

“Sure,” I say.

“Anyway, I’m wrapping up for the day. How about you?”

Oh no. That tone sounds eerily like he is going to ask if I want to hang out after we leave.

But there’s no way out of the fact that I don’t have any work left.

“I’m wrapping up too.”

I try to think of something else to add. Some possible plans, maybe, to get ahead of him extending any sort of invite, but

nothing comes to me.

Rhodes nods. “Want to grab something to eat?”

“Well...” Interlocking my fingers and walking over to my desk, I shrug. “I had such a huge lunch, I’m honestly not hungry

yet.”

“Fair,” he says. “I’m not quite starved, either. Maybe we could just go for a drink or something? Fancy a glass of wine?”

I open my mouth, but with no poised response or excuse, I stand there silent.

Rhodes catches it immediately. “Ah, okay. No worries, then.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to—”

“I get it,” he says. There is such a vulnerability in the way his eyes widen. He glances down. “I know we sort of had this

established, didn’t we? I just misread... I kind of thought we had a nice time together at Versailles.”

“We did have a nice time together.”

The words come out quickly, almost all running together.

Damn those big, sweet eyes. I don’t mean to give in, but I can practically physically feel his disappointment tugging at my heartstrings.

“I mean, if you wanted to keep it work related, I could tell you more about the textile preservation,” Rhodes says. “Or we

could spend some time coming up with ideas for content? For the gala? I also found some really cool decks on the server about

the work Pascal is doing to modernize Maison Dauphine—there’s a whole ten-year plan. He’s pretty incredible.”

Get it together, Milo. There is too much at stake to get caught up in a crush. Not to mention you screwed him over six ways

from Sunday this afternoon.

I stay quiet.

“Right. Okay, okay. I understand.” He locks his computer and grabs his wallet from his desk, standing before he pockets it.

He gives me a weak smile before staring down at the floor.

Damn it.

It’s like I finally understand why people lose their minds in love. I mean, obviously this is the furthest thing from love ; it’s just that right now my sensible side—the one that knows Rhodes is still the opposition—is absolutely being squashed

by whatever the other side is—the side that just wants to admire his slightly Herculean features.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Milo.”

He walks toward the door, and I curse my weak, human emotions and instincts.

“Wait!” I say. “Maybe we could go over some of the Pascal stuff. We could walk back to the 7 th together?”

Rhodes laughs. “You need more fresh air?”

“Walking outside has a number of benefits, Rhodes—”

“I know, I’m only messing with you.” He holds out his hand, gesturing for me to lead the way. “I’m good with walking back

together.”

And I am too. It was my idea, after all.

Except for the fact that as we walk, I have this sort of gooey feeling of guilt that just gets heavier, like Rhodes wouldn’t

be so eager to walk me through this Pascal strategy document if he had any idea what I’ve done.

“I think some of the new marketing verticals are really brilliant,” he says. “Maison Dauphine has always really toed the line

between classic, exclusive couture and innovation. They’re somehow preserving the past but paving the way forward.”

We stop at the middle of the bridge overlooking the Seine, and Rhodes looks out at the water. Across the way, the Eiffel Tower

is tall and stark against the bright blue sky—since I got to Paris it has served as the landmark that tells me which way back

to the apartment.

Maybe I should just tell him.

I’m not even sure how such a silly thought could pop into my mind right now, so I ignore it and focus on what Rhodes is talking

about.

“Pascal is a genius,” I say.

Eyes still fixed on the river, Rhodes smiles. “He is. My mom and I went to his exhibit when it was in LA. All those archival

pieces. It was incredible.”

I place my hands on the railing and sigh. “I wish my mom had the time to do something like that.”

“Oh? I thought you said you would go to New York together.”

“True,” I say. “And I love those trips. It’s just, you know. Those are for her stores. Work trips.”

Rhodes turns to face me. “What do you guys do apart from that? Like, outside of work trips?”

“She’s busy,” I offer. “First the Citrus Harbor boutique, and now this Hamptons thing... and my parents divorced two years

ago, so she’s been doing it all alone. I guess she was always doing it alone, looking back.”

“Are you saying you guys don’t spend any time together?”

I shake my head. “No, we have dinner together. A few nights a week! And I see her on weekends, though she’s either usually

busy or tired, which is understandable. I have a ten-year-old sister, too, and there’s just a lot to do all the time. But

I mean it’s mostly work stuff. I help out at the boutique sometimes. She doesn’t need my help as much now that she has a bigger

team, but I still like to give my ideas.”

Lifting one shoulder, Rhodes purses his lips. “Well, maybe you should try to set up some kind of tradition outside of work trips or dinners. You know? Something fun.”

Though I don’t think he’s trying to sound condescending, it irks me slightly the way he says this. As if I’ve never thought

of it or it would just be so easy.

I do my best to avoid sounding irritated. “Maybe.”

“It’d be good for you both. And your sister. And your brother could join too. If he’s not busy watching Clyde Circus lose

a match, of course.”

“We used to have family game night. Sometimes we’d go bowling or to mini golf. And it’d just be the four of us, since my dad

was always way too busy. He makes her calendar look like a dream—but it was fine because we had a lot more fun without him,

to be honest.”

Rhodes snorts. “So you’re not close with your dad?”

“No,” I say. “I guess things with us are fine, but we’ve barely even spoken since I’ve been in Paris.”

“Oh,” he says, eyes going duller as his smile falls. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I hold up my hands. “Really, I promise. No need to be sorry.”

Rhodes bites his lip. “If you say so. I do think game nights sound really nice.”

“They were. Obviously, this was all before she opened the store. I don’t think we’ve done a game night for at least the past

four years.” I dig my fingernails into my palm. “I don’t know, it seems silly to act like it’s... her business is a big

deal, and it’s important. She supports us with it. You know? It’s not like she’s just choosing not to hang out with me.”

Rhodes’s eyes narrow. “I’m not sure. It sounds like she’s making a choice to me.”

Who is he to say that?

“It isn’t that simple,” I snap.

“It sounds like she’s only going to get busier,” Rhodes says. “And opening another boutique in the Hamptons? That’s far, and

it’s going to require a lot of travel, isn’t it? Away from you and your siblings?”

I shrug. “She’ll take us with her when she can. Mostly she tries to only go up when we’re with our dad, so it doesn’t affect

us as much.”

“How did that even come about?”

“She and her friends have always gone up there for as long as I can remember,” I say. “And she recently found a location,

and then worked with a firm to do all this planning and research. She’s been sourcing inventory and overseeing the remodel

of the unit....”

“Sounds like it’s just another really big thing on her plate,” Rhodes says.

“It’s a huge opportunity,” I tell him.

Frowning, Rhodes takes a tiny step toward me. “You know, it’s all right if you’re not happy about your mom’s priorities.”

“It’s ungrateful,” I counter.

“But if you—”

“Look, life has been fine without game nights.” I can hear a bit of that irritation I was trying to avoid. It burns in my

chest. “It doesn’t matter anyway, because I’m going to be busy too. I have big goals and plans, and I won’t have time for

that kind of stuff myself.”

Rhodes’s forehead creases for a moment, but then his expression softens, and he just nods. “I didn’t mean to strike a nerve.”

“You didn’t,” I say. “There is no nerve there. I should have never said anything.”

“All right.” He points over his shoulder toward the Eiffel Tower. “Should we keep going?”

I’m beyond grateful that Rhodes is back to admiring Pascal’s strategic vision for the rest of the walk home. We seem to both

pretend there wasn’t a slightly awkward, tense moment at the end of our conversation on the bridge, and I am also grateful

for that.

Once I’m back at the flat, I kick off my shoes and text Celeste.

Then I navigate to my texts with my mom.

She hasn’t replied in three days.

It’s fine, though. I’m sure I’m only feeling sensitive about it because of Rhodes. She’s busy, and I’m busy too.

Besides, soon enough I will have amazing news about my future with Maison Dauphine, and she’ll absolutely respond to that.