Page 49 of All the Gossip from Paris
It would hurt more. And I don’t know why.
“You recall our discussion earlier today at lunch about me not willing to take a chance. Well I finally did something about it,” said Sophie.
“What did you do Sophie?”
“I asked my father for a greater role in the atelier. To be officially given more responsibility. He said he would think about it, but I know what he really meant. I’m not good enough. Then he gave me a pat on the head. And because I’m a good girl he promised to bring me chocolates back from Switzerland.”
Liam winced. “Ouch. That must have stung.”
“Yeah, it did.”
And for some unknown reason her father’s rejection pained her more than it usually did.
She was thirty two and still waiting to claim her future. When Liam moved closer, Sophie’s bottom lip began to quiver. She hated this about herself. Tears were her weakness. They gave others far too much power over her.
He took a hold of her hand, and gave it a gentle reassuring squeeze. “That’s why Camille left France wasn’t it? She got tired of hiding her talent from your father. Ryan told me that on her last day at the atelier, she and your father had a massive blow up.”
After that fight her twin had packed her suitcase and left. François had cut Camille’s finances off thinking it would bring her to heel. But she’d already prepared her escape plan. Their cousin Bryce had sponsored her US work visa and backed her fledgling design business Then she’d eventually met Ryan. And now her sister was a success in her own right.
Sophie had no such plans. She didn’t want to escape.
“Camille has always wanted to design for the ready to wear market. That’s where her passions lie. For me, I want to be recognized as a couture designer. Maybe not one of the greats like Saint Laurent, or Chloe, or Dior, but still a name.”
I want to be someone.
“Could you strike out on your own?” he asked.
“It’s not the same as creating garments for department stores. It would take many years for me to build a client book like my father has done. The thing is, I don’t want to usurp him. I want to be able to continue working at the family atelier, but at the same time be granted the opportunity to lead. And then one day be able to show my own designs alongside Papa’s.”
She turned to walk away. Few people understood the world of high fashion; she certainly didn’t expect Liam to be one of them. He was a great guy, but this wasn’t his thing.
Liam kept hold of her hand. “Would you show me your designs? I’d love to see them.”
He was being kind. She wasn’t entirely sure if she could handle kindness right now. There was an odd mixture of urges currently conducting a tug-of-war in her brain. She couldn’t decide whether to indulge in a full on crying session, or go punch a tree.
At least the look on Liam’s face was one of genuine honesty. He cared.
“Please Sophie, share your dreams with me.”
That last plea finally settled the argument for her. Sophie spun on her heel and towed Liam back toward the house. She would show him her latest creation—then perhaps he might begin to understand.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Liam stopped by his room and grabbed his camera before following Sophie up to the top floor of the chateau, and into the atelier. As with his first visit, the workshop was empty. The tailors, seamstresses, and dressmakers were all gone for the Christmas holidays. Sophie’s parents would soon be leaving for Switzerland.
One day he hoped to experience the atelier when all the employees were here. It would be great to see how this place looked and felt when there was a team of people buzzing about.
Sophie opened a large, tall cupboard and wheeled out a tailors mannequin. A long cotton garment bag was draped over it.
Liam had seen the stationary mannequins in Camille’s workshop but never one on wheels. She caught him checking out the model. “This is what is known as a dress form. Some people call it a mobile dummy. Papa hates the term. He says it sounds childish, and I would have to agree.”
Righting herself, she brushed her long dark hair away from her face. Liam’s teeth worried his bottom lip. If Sophie had the slightest idea what that move did to him, she didn’t show it.
Memories of the night they’d spent in one another’s arms in New York, came flooding back. The tactile pleasure of tangling his hands in her silken hair as he kissed her was something Liam longed to savor once more.
So damn beautiful.
How anyone could treat this woman as less than a goddess was beyond him. Given half the chance he’d be on his knees before her, begging for Sophie to accept his eager worship. Liam was still grappling with his lustful thoughts as Sophie slipped the light cover off the mannequin and revealed the gown.
