Page 44 of Everything About You

I break, reaching over and tapping him on the shoulder. This time he takes his headphones off immediately, placing them on

the desk and facing me.

“Yes?”

“Can we please talk? We’re going to be working together, and I know you don’t want to hear what I have to say, but I’d really

like to try and get past this.”

Rhodes is hardly moved by this, but he lazily lifts his shoulders, gesturing for me to go on.

“I made a bunch of mistakes,” I say. “And I have learned a big lesson the hard way.”

“And what lesson is that?”

“That I don’t have to stab you or me,” I say.

Rhodes’s eyes widen. “ Stab ? Who said anything about—”

“No, I mean, that’s abridged. It’s something Pascal said.” I shake my head and wave my hands around. “Pretend I never said that.”

“What are you on about, Milo?”

“I am sorry I was so competitive and that I let my ambition get the best of me,” I say. “I knew better, but I was insecure,

and I didn’t know how to... I felt so threatened I temporarily lost my mind.”

“Several times,” Rhodes points out.

“You’re right. I lost my mind several times.”

Rhodes crosses his arms. “Well. I suppose you’re right. We’re going to be stuck working together.”

Stuck.

“I know things won’t go back to the way they were....”

“No, they won’t.” He swallows, sitting up a bit straighter and pulling his folded arms tighter together.

Our eyes lock, and I know he’s saying it all right there. We’re not going to have a conversation about it. Not a proper one,

anyway. Whatever happened between us romantically is in the past. There’s no more “us” at all. There’s a sting of warmth behind

my eyes, and a chill runs up my spine.

I clear my throat.

“But hopefully we can get along. I know this is important to you, and I am not going to do anything to screw it up. We just

have to get through the resort show and show Yvette that everything is fine. In fact, anything you need, just let me know.”

Unfolding his arms, Rhodes places his hands on his lap. “All right then. Sounds like a plan.”

Sounds like a plan...

“And I don’t know if you have any concerns about what’s been going on...”

“What do you mean?”

A bit of an awkward topic to breach now. I shift in my seat. “Well. On social media, I mean.”

“People on social media are blooming idiots,” he says. “What’s new?”

I don’t show him how much it hurts that he doesn’t seem to care how it affects me. I just shrug it off. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“They’ve always got something to say. You know what they say about opinions.”

Right. Of course I know what they say about opinions. I guess I just don’t exactly know what Rhodes’s actual opinion is about

all this.

“You just let people say whatever they want, then? I mean, some of the stuff they say is pretty out there.”

He kicks the side of his Adidas into the desk. “Sure. But it’s, like, they’re literally always gonna do that. Just have to

ignore it and ride it out. You’ll see.”

“It’s just weird having all these random people speculate about my life.”

“I don’t know why anyone is so invested in who a stranger may or may not fancy.” Rhodes blows a raspberry. “Quite lame, if

you ask me. But oh well. C’est la vie, Milo .”

He’s skirting around the fact that this affects me. I don’t want to let it get to me, but I’m already feeling shaky—the sadness that accompanies our non-breakup is overwhelming to me on its own, so my emotions are particularly volatile, and I seem prone to a sharp annoyance at his flippant tone.

Still, this isn’t the time for me to mouth off, and I am fully aware of that.

Lesson learned.

“I think the worst part of all those stories...” He sucks his teeth and looks to me. “Probably when the wrong person believes

them. When they judge you before getting to know you.”

I swallow, gaze dropping to the floor. “I’m sorry about that too. I know now... I know you now.”

“And now you know how it feels,” he says. “A bit, anyway. Though, believe it or not, I don’t take any pleasure in that. For

what it’s worth, I’m sorry some of them are so vicious.”

“Yeah, some of them have been tough to read. A lot of people who really love Imogen really hate me.”

He groans, hand forming a fist. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Milo. All you can do is ignore those people. They’re out of their minds.

They have no lives. They’re just spewing shit, really.”

“It’s not all shit, I mean... Imogen is...”

Rhodes looks at me very seriously. “Imogen and I were not good together. I don’t know what that even was. Like, at all . And I don’t mean to be disrespectful to her in saying that. But I need you to know there’s no comparison there. Not even

a small amount... the connection you and I have...” He clears his throat. “Had. Anyway, try not to let them get to you.

It gets easier with time.”

I want to cling to what he just said. I want to remind him we do still have that connection, but I don’t want to screw this up any more than I already have, especially when we’re so close

to the show.

Instead, I nod silently and go back to work.

I make sure all my work is perfect and I don’t irritate Rhodes, or anyone else at Maison Dauphine for that matter.

We get an email asking which of us will deliver the handwritten invitations to over twenty-five addresses around Paris. The

invitations are a formality, just like the ones we verified for the gala. These people already know they’re attending the

show on Saturday, but it’s something the house does for prestige and posterity. We can split them up, the email offers, or

one of us can just spend the day doing this.

It sounds absolutely miserable, and I volunteer just so Rhodes won’t have to do it.

I’m here , I remind myself. I’m back, and I have to make the most of this.

Because I got what I wanted. I got what I came to Paris for. Didn’t I?