Page 143 of My French Love Affair

"Poppy," Emma interrupts, grabbing my shoulders. "You are literally going on a date with one of the most famous men in the world."

"We don’t know that it’s a date."

"Oh myfucking-" She shakes me slightly. "He sent you four bouquets of roses and a handwritten invitation. You. Are. Going. On. A. Date."

I sigh, defeated. "Fine."

"Great!" Jas grins, rummaging through my design sketches. "Let’s find you something that says‘I’m effortlessly chic, but also, I could ruin your life if I wanted to’."

"So… Old Money, then?" Leah sips her wine.

Jas snaps her fingers. "Exactly."

I groan, flopping onto my bed. "I’m alreadydreadingthis."

Emma cheerfully ignores me, plugging in a curling iron and motioning me over to the vanity.

"Come on,mon ange. Let’s make you look irresistible."

"I regret telling you he calls me that,” I glare, but reluctantly move to sit in front of her. “And now I hate you for using it, too.”

She grins, sectioning off my hair.

"Just wait until we’re done with you."

* **

I barely recognise myself.

My blonde hair is styled into voluminous, bouncy waves, cascading over my shoulders in flawless, glossy curls. Emma even dusted a little highlight on my collarbones - because, in her words, men are stupid and love shiny things.

Leah finished my eye makeup - soft, smoky, and seductive, but not overdone - while Jas diligently searched through my collection of self-made outfits.

And when she found the perfect dress?

Oh, she found the perfect dress.

"This one," she declared, holding it up with a flourish. "This is the one."

The fabric is luxurious and creamy, a soft ivory shade that clings to my curves in all the right places. Thin straps, a structured bodice, and a subtly flared skirt that ends mid-thigh. It’s one of the first designs I truly poured myself into, one that took hours upon hours of meticulous work - from sketching out the concept to sourcing the perfect fabric, to sewing and resewing each delicate seam until it was flawless.

It’s elegant and classic, and tonight, it’sperfect.

I pair it with strappy nude heels, a simple gold bracelet, and - before I can protest - Leah thrusts a handbag into my hands.

"What’s this?" I frown, inspecting the obviously expensive purse.

"One of the bags Jacques bought for me," she says matter-of-factly. "You may as well start using some of this stuff. No point in hoarding it all."

"I can’t just -"

"You’re welcome," she interrupts, pressing a kiss to my cheek before stepping back to admire her work. "Now, look at you. We’ve done a service to Monaco tonight."

"Frederic won’t know what hit him," Emma beams.

"Ready to go make a man suffer?" Jas grins, smoothing a hand over my skirt before stepping back.

"You’re all so dramatic,” I snort, rolling my eyes as I grab my phone, but then I pause. “But… I love you all.Somuch.”

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