And that was it. She was gone. And I fucking hated it.
Twenty-One
Astrid
My studio was a chaotic explosion of fabric scraps, shoes, garment bags, and rolling racks, outfits on hangers everywhere, ready to be triple checked. But I ignored all that in an attempt to focus on the gorgeous model in front of me.
She inspected herself in the mirror while I studied the back of her dress. Something was off with the fit... specifically around the waist.
"Can you please turn for me?" I asked.
My favorite model Harper did a slow twirl, the rest of the dress hugging her curves perfectly. At least I had that. But it wasn't good enough. I wanted perfection. Ineededperfection.
When she stopped in front of me, I crouched down to tug at the seam, then pinched a section in the back to pin it. "I think another quarter inch here will do it."
A few more pins in the hem, and we were done. Now I just had to fix it. And a million other things. And figure out what to do about some shoes that hadn't shipped on time. And finalize hair. And makeup. And accessories. And—
Katie handed me a bottle of cold water and ordered me to sit down. "Drink. Hydrate. Grab a break before the next one comes in."
Too exhausted to argue, I did as she said, taking a few long sips of the water, vowing to catch up on sleep when this was all over.
One more week. One more week! Oh, my God.
My phone made a noise, but I had no idea where it was. After digging through some fabric swatches on a table, Katie held it up triumphantly. "Found it!"
She was the absolute best. "What would I do without you, Katie?"
"Not sure. And hopefully you'll never find out. Because I am never ever ever leaving your side."
For some reason, that made me emotional, and I swallowed back a lump as she handed me my phone.
And then that emotion was quickly replaced, my pulse taking off when I saw who had messaged me. It was Tristan.
All I'd been able to think about for days was what he'd said to me before I'd rushed to get off the phone.
The last thing I want to do is mislead someone, make them think I'm interested in them just to get laid, and then ghost them.
The words rang around in my head relentlessly, haunting me, because did he somehowknow?
Did he know that was my plan? Well, sort of my plan. I hadn't exactly figured out the end to this whole thing. Whenever I thought about it, I just felt sick to my stomach.
For as far back as I could remember, I'd never acted that way or been intentionally mean to someone.
But... I would do it. Even if it felt foreign to me. Because this was Tristan Hawthorne we were talking about here. TristanD.Hawthorne.
Despite how nice he seemed now, the sweet way he held my hand, the charming words that came out of his mouth, and howcaring he was with his brother, I still couldn't find it in myself to forgive him for what he'd done.
With a sigh, I read the text he'd just sent me. "Hey, baby. Hope you're doing okay. I miss talking to you."
It'd been a few days since our last talk, but it really was because I was insanely busy right now.
Phone still in my hand, as if he knew I was right there reading and thinking about him, he wrote me again.
"I know you're busy with fashion week, so just call me whenever you can. Even if it's just for a second, it would make my day."
I smiled. Damn it. I smiled.
For the millionth time, I thought about how smooth he was. Too smooth.
