Page 29 of Always Meant for You
I’ve been shaping this pitch in my mind since I was a teenager.
“What I do is tell a story,” I say, confidence taking over. “Style is memory, expression, and identity. Bella Mae celebrates craftsmanship and design—the history behind every hem, the artistry in every seam. I blend old and new. Think runway dreams with kitchen-table beginnings. Glamour, yes, but rooted in community and curiosity. I share knowledge, I share style. It doesn’t matter who you are. Everyone is welcome. And people are invested. They show up and stay.”
Chelsea nods, her expression unreadable but focused. “Well said, Bella Mae. But I am wondering . . .”
My breath catches. “About?”
She leans in, elbows resting on the polished edge of the table. “You’ve got global connections and family resources. Why not go straight to the brands? Why come to us?”
I knew this would come up.
I’ve got the answer.
And I don’t have to lie.
“I’ve come a long way to get here. I want this to be mine, fully and completely.”
Across from me, Lucce lifts his head. A smirk tugs at his thin lips.
“And when you say mine,” he drawls, “that person is Bella Mae?”
His tone is sugar-coated, but there’s something sour underneath.
I lift my chin. “Yes.”
He doesn’t blink. Instead, he taps his phone once, then slides it, face up, to the center of the table.
“You’re sure it’s not a farm hick named Mabel?”
Oh, God!
My stomach drops.
The air evaporates.
My pulse roars in my ears.
“What?” I whisper, throat tightening.
Chelsea takes Lucce’s phone and studies the screen. The corners of her mouth flatten.
Lucce’s eyes glitter with smug delight. “And you’re trending,Mabel.”
I open my purse and fumble for my phone. My fingers brush the edge of my passport as I dig it out. One tap and the screen lights up.
#BellaMaeFraud is everywhere.
“Fifteen minutes ago,” Lucce says, narrating my downfall, “theCastle Kingouted you. On your last post.”
“Castle King? I don’t know who that is.”
“They seem to know you.”
I scroll. And there it is. The post has been viewed over eight hundred thousand times.
Bella Mae is not a world traveler from a wealthy family. That’s a lie. Her real name is Mabel. She comes from a farming community in rural Illinois.
A lead weight drops in my belly.
