Page 9 of Everything About You
“Well, first, there’s the fact that I turned down a huge campaign with Louis Vuitton to be here.”
I raise my shoulders, looking around. “Do you hear the words that come out of your mouth, or do you just sort of—”
“There were literal articles written about it. WWD called it disrespectful, considering my father’s past campaigns with them. Now, once news breaks of my apprenticeship here,
I’ve publicly committed to Maison Dauphine. I can’t just back out, Milo. How does that make me look?”
“God forbid you have to negotiate another deal to be the face of a different luxury fashion house. How incredibly difficult
for you.”
Rhodes’s face is only growing redder. “That’s only the tip of the iceberg. I’ve got more on the line than you could understand.
I’m sorry you flew here from Florida, and this isn’t your magical Milo in Paris summer.”
“I’m not trying to be Emily in Paris , you—”
“You...?”
“I don’t know, okay, I’m not going to call you a name. I just...” I take a deep breath. “Look, you’re right, I don’t know
your life or your problems, but there must be some way we can make this work. This is important to both of us.”
Rhodes presses his lips together. “I wish things were different, but this is where we’re at. As a courtesy, I’m going to tell
you now that I’m not a fan of losing. And if it’s only going to be one of us, I’m not gonna just roll over on this opportunity.”
“But I don’t understand why it has to be this opportunity. Why does it have to be my— this apprenticeship, this summer?”
“Do you hear the words that come out of your mouth?”
“I just don’t get why you gave up a perfectly respectable campaign for a PR apprenticeship. Like, why did you choose something
internal? Something corporate? Something that was supposed to go to one international student? I’m sure Maison Dauphine would have loved if you just did a campaign like you would’ve done for Louis
Vuitton.”
He sits up a bit straighter, blinking quickly.
“Oh my god. You could have, couldn’t you? You could have done something else.”
Rhodes swallows, crossing his arms, and the corner of his mouth twitches. “Milo, I’m getting the impression you fancy yourself
as the center of the universe. And that isn’t entirely shocking for people in our age range, and it’s clearly gotten you pretty
far, but I have to be honest. It’s incredibly presumptuous for you to question my—”
“Why didn’t you do a campaign? Or a collaboration? Or any other number of things influencers normally do with—”
“I am not an influencer.” Rhodes holds up a finger. “And while I don’t owe you an explanation, I wanted to do something different
from the typical celebrity partnership.”
I blink. “Then do you mean to tell me you’re only doing this apprenticeship to prove a point? That you’re not like other nepo
babies?”
“Wow,” Rhodes scoffs. “Nepo baby.”
“Feel free to disagree.”
Now I’ve really struck a chord. Rhodes practically has steam coming out of his ears, and his eyes are darker now, the crystal aquamarine
pools turned stormy.
“You’ve got some nerve, Milo.”
“Don’t tell me. Your father made a call and got you this apprenticeship.”
“He didn’t, actually.” Rhodes scowls. He opens his mouth to continue, but the doors fly open and Yvette appears, eyes trained
on an iPad, strutting through the threshold in a slinky gray dress and black heels.
“ Bonjour ,” she says, but without waiting for us to respond, she drags her finger across the tablet screen and sighs. “Let’s go over
the upcoming itinerary. You both will be staff for the majority of the summer PR events. This is a very important time for
Maison Dauphine, especially as we are looking to build up the mystery around the resort theme. There will be hints at each
event, little clues, if you will.”
“Just like Renard Florin used to do,” I say.
Yvette glances up, and for the first time, she smiles. It could be an involuntary twitch, except for the fact that she nods
slightly as well, and even adds, “That’s right, Milo. Très bien . Yes, this year’s resort theme is L’or des Fous, an homage to Renard Florin’s signature gold campaign.”
Rhodes shoots me a look.
Oh my god, did I just get on Yvette’s good side?
“This is all extremely confidential. This information cannot leave this room. Do not tell your closest confidants. I mean
this very sincerely. Now, on to the schedule.”
Our computers both ding as an email pops into our inboxes.
“There we are. Okay, the three I want you to focus on: We will hold a pop-up at the Versailles gardens at the end of this week. Most of this is already done, but you will both work the event and keep track of social media mentions and engagements. I will handle press.”
A pop-up at the Versailles gardens? Holy hell.
“Next week we have an influencer event.” Yvette winces a bit as she says this, I think, but then she collects herself. “We
will host in the Tuileries garden, and this will be focused on handbags. We will unveil two of the bags from the resort show
during this event. Again, you two will serve as hosts and keep track of the mentions.”
I’m sensing a pattern, now that I think about it.
“Apart from the resort show, our final big event will be our gala at the Louvre.”
The Fête à Minuit. I wondered if I would be allowed to work on the event—maybe I’d get to help plan or carry out some small
tasks to assist with setup—but at least it sounds like I’ll actually be there.
Renard Florin began the tradition of the Maison Dauphine Fête à Minuit—or the “party at midnight”—in the sixties. Back then,
it was a marketing ploy, I’m sure, to have a party begin so late. It has transformed over the years, and is now a traditional
gala, with Fête à Minuit as more of a title and an opportunity for some theming references.
It’s one of the biggest nights in fashion. In the various entertainment industries, really, with a star-studded guest list
and a ledger of famous moments over the years.
“You will be tasked with running the Instagram and TikTok during this event. Pascal will unveil one gown from the resort collection
at the end of the evening.”
Rhodes nods. “This all sounds brilliant.”
“And each event is a clue,” I say.
Yvette raises her brows.
“Right? Because Maison Dauphine has only referenced L’or des Fous at three shows in the last eighty-eight years—one at Versailles, one at the Tuileries gardens, and one at the Louvre.”
Nodding, Yvette locks her iPad. “Very good, Milo. I must say I am impressed.”
I don’t look to Rhodes, concentrating on Yvette’s tiny hint of a smile instead, but I bet he is probably foaming at the mouth
right now.
“We also have a reshoot for the resort campaign after the gala, which we will likely ask you to assist with. Just logistics,
but we will discuss that closer to the shoot.” Yvette nods. “If any questions arise, please let me know. I expect the two
of you to use your best judgment and represent the house well at all times, through emails, on social media, and at all events.”
I do glance at Rhodes now, and I think—based on the way his eyes are a bit wider than normal, and his bottom lip seems to
poke out ever so slightly—he’s nervous .
“Milo, I’ll have you lead for the Versailles pop-up,” Yvette says.
My heart races. Oh my god. I did something right.
Then, as I am apt to do when I am given an inch, I test the possibility of getting a mile. “Of course. And if you need any
ideas for some subtle references—just for the brand’s most loyal audience members—I’m well versed on the history of L’or des
Fous.”
Yvette purses her lips.
Did I just push it too far?
She looks me up and down, and then she gives one very slight nod. “Send me any thoughts by end of day. Rhodes, until I have those ideas, please handle all messenger requests today.”
Yvette leaves, and by the look on Rhodes’s face, I know one thing for sure.
The game has just begun.