Page 49 of Everything About You

After the show, my ears are literally ringing.

The falling water has been turned off now that the guests have been gone for a solid forty-five minutes. The models were out

quickly—makeup removed and mostly reset, though it seemed like some of them were eager to leave, even with all the product

still in their hair.

My mom is going to get a drink with Rosie Hamilton, and I’ve let her know I’ll call her as soon as I’m able to leave.

There’s no music, just lots of chatter and excitement. Bottles of champagne are popping all around us, and the PR team members

are all sitting in the extra makeup chairs, excitedly shouting things in French as they track mentions on social media and

across press outlets.

“ Maison Dauphine prouve que tout ce qui brille est de l’or ! ” Zoe squeals.

Rhodes leans in to whisper. “Maison Dauphine proves all that glitters is gold.”

I nod. “That’s amazing.”

“La maison de couture vaut son pesant d’or!”

“The fashion house is worth its weight in gold,” Rhodes coos. “Very positive reviews, it seems.”

They go on like this for a bit, drinking expensive bubbles from delicate coupe glasses. It’s almost like what I imagine a

sorority is like, the way these girls all have this bond and love for the house.

Rhodes and I end up helping Haydée and Zoe secure the samples so they can be transported back to the fashion closet. We cleared

two racks for the assets yesterday, in anticipation. My email is already blowing up, and I just know Monday morning is going

to be absolutely bonkers.

I’ve come up with a plan that I feel pretty good about. I’ll do my best to get things started with the requests for the new

looks and help ensure Rhodes is in a steady, comfortable rhythm with everything. And then, once things are as close to stable

as we can hope for, I’ll tell Yvette that I have to return to Citrus Harbor, as much as I want to stay. I’ll come up with

an excuse or something if I have to, but I’m hoping she won’t ask too many questions. She will likely be happy to see me go,

honestly.

After zipping up a garment bag, I go to answer some texts.

Sophie: Show was PERFECT

Sophie: Good job

Me: Well, it was hardly thanks to me

Sophie: Every member of the team made it happen

Sophie: You should be proud

Celeste: I bought the good plane wifi just to watch the stream

Celeste: AMAZING

Celeste: Noel is like so impressed

Me: Lol thank you both. I miss you already

Celeste: We miss you too

Celeste: Have fun celebrating tonight

Celeste: Ugh, I bet you and Rhodes are gonna have the most amazing, romantic night

Me: They’ve already busted out the champagne!

Deuce Bags

Chip: Congrats, Milo!

Isaac: That livestream went craaaaazy

Isaac: So good

Miguel: yeah bro if you ever get extra invites...

Chip: I’m sure there are so many extra invites

Isaac: Hope you and Rhodes have a fun night celebrating

Isaac:

Me: Lol thanks guys, if I ever get to work another fashion show I’ll be on the lookout for a group of seats just for the deuce

bags

Haydée comes over, and I can’t tell what she’s feeling at all. She’s very focused, that’s for sure, but her expression gives

absolutely no suggestion of what is going through her head.

“Milo.”

She looks so serious; I’m honestly going to break a sweat. What is going on?

“Haydée?”

Drawing in a deep breath, she pulls me aside, a few feet from Rhodes, and then she lowers her voice to a whisper, leaning

in close. “Yvette told me to tell you there is now an open seat at Pascal’s table.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“At the reception. Someone got sick, I guess? So you’re up.”

“I’m up?”

“You’re up. Pascal wants you. Yvette just called.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.”

Haydée groans. “Milo, are you trying to be funny?”

I shake my head with wide eyes. “No, sorry, I’m definitely not. I just don’t know why they would possibly invite me to that.”

“So you don’t want to go?”

“I definitely want to go,” I say.

Rhodes drops one of the shoes, and it makes a loud noise as it thuds against the floor. Red as a lobster when everyone looks

at him, he immediately recovers it, holding the shoe up to show it is completely unscuffed. “All good!”

Haydée frowns.

And somehow that’s all I needed to see.

That frown that says everything.

I remember when I thought I knew Rhodes. When I thought he didn’t deserve to be here and that he didn’t appreciate his lot

in life. I remember when I judged him too quickly and didn’t even give him a chance to speak or show me how different he was

from what I imagined.

Most importantly, I remember when I thought he was ill-suited for this role. I had no idea how dedicated he is or how hard

he works. I thought it was conniving or cheating to use his connections—Amalia Astor or his mother, even—but this is PR, and

that’s literally the job.

Rhodes Hamilton is amazing at this, and Haydée’s frown is innocent enough, but it helps me remember he’s still proving himself.

“Actually, I want to give the spot to Rhodes.”

Her jaw drops. “You can’t be serious, Milo. I say this without meaning to offend you, but you could use this opportunity more.”

“Maybe,” I say. “That could very well be true. But I think Rhodes will make better use of it.”

She shrugs and goes to talk to him. He looks excited, like a little blond puppy, eyes lighting up and his grin huge, and when

she walks away, he rushes over to tell me.

“That is going to be so fun,” I say.

“I saw her talking to you.” He presses his palms together and rocks on his heels. “He wanted you, didn’t he?”

I pause. For a split second, I consider lying, but I figure there’s no use. It could come out somehow, and this little white

lie wouldn’t be worth it. At this point, I think I owe Rhodes a little honesty.

“Earlier I asked if Yvette if we could get some time with Pascal,” I offer. “I guess this is her answer.”

“Then it’s your seat, Milo.”

There’s a bit of disappointment brewing in those eyes as they turn to stormy glaciers rather than vibrant skies.

I slide the garment bag I’ve just zipped farther down the rack and grab one of the folded ones from a nearby chair, opening

it up and stuffing in a camel-and-gold tweed suit.

“You go,” I say. “I’ve met Pascal. He knows who I am.”

Rhodes laughs. “I’m sure he knows who I am, too.”

“Exactly,” I say. “He should get to know the real you.”

“Really?” Rhodes’s face softens at the recognition.

“Yes, really.”

“Thank you, Milo.”

He’s giddy as he squeezes my arm and then runs off with Haydée.

I feel like one of the little animals in Cinderella, though I guess I’m not exactly turning rags into a gown or a pumpkin

into a carriage. Still, it feels nice to make it up to Rhodes and do what I know to be the right thing.

Continuing down the garment racks, I work on bagging the remaining pieces.

By the time I’m done, the party seems to have cleared out. There are a few empty champagne bottles, but the coupe glasses

and laughter have disappeared. I hardly notice everyone leaving, lost in my own world as I admire the clothes, simultaneously

reflecting on my decision to go back home and fighting the impending sadness that is going to hit at the end of this night

like a tidal wave. The emotional hangover is going to be so real tomorrow.

“You do know you don’t get overtime.”

Yvette walks in wearing a stunning midi-length black dress with a golden snake necklace that seems to slither down her chest,

along with charcoal-colored snakeskin boots. All Maison Dauphine from very different periods, paired so perfectly and in a

way I haven’t ever seen before. She seems to be a never-ending master class in style.

“Oh, I know, I’m just finishing up.”

“Relax, I’m only joking.” She gestures around. “Are you heading to any of the little soirées?”

I shake my head, counting the garment bags and then heading over to the labels and grabbing a Sharpie to start working on

them.

“None?”

“No, I’m going to head home after this.”

“I see....”

“You’re not at the dinner?” I ask. Then: “I’m sorry, I hope you didn’t think I was being rude or disrespectful by not going.

I just wanted to give Rhodes a chance to talk to Pascal. You know? Since there was only one seat.”

“I am heading there after this.”

Yvette pulls a bottle of champagne from a chiller and then uses one of the untouched, folded black towels from the makeup

supply cart to pop the cork. There are a few clean coupe glasses, and she grabs two, pouring champagne into them and handing

me one.

“I couldn’t resist,” she says, holding hers up. We clink glasses and she takes a sip, shutting her eyes to savor it. “Thank

you for your work on the show. It was a beautiful success.”

I take a sip too. The champagne is crisp, and the bubbles are lively and effervescent. “Thank you for having me back.”

She nods. “And I didn’t think it was rude or disrespectful. It was very noble, actually. You have really impressed me with

the way you’ve so selflessly advocated for Rhodes lately. You have a strong work ethic, but also strong values.”

“Thank you, Yvette. I really appreciate that.”

God, I’m getting choked up again. Why am I always getting choked up these days?

“It’s just unfortunate.” Yvette frowns.

“What?”

She holds the champagne coupe up to her chin, pursing her lips and giving me a once-over. “I think I’m actually going to miss

having you around when you transfer to the New York office.”