by Nicola Marsh
‘The Hollywood glamour campaign was a perfect fit for Fourde Fashion, and if I hadn’t worked here all these years, surrounded by the elegance this label stands for, I never would’ve been inspired to come up with something like that. So thank you.’
Joyce patted his forearm and Hardy straightened in what Patrick could only label as pride.
‘You’ve given me an amazing start in this business, and I’ll always be grateful, but my vision for the future isn’t a good match for the Fourde brand—as we discovered the hard way. So it’s time we part ways.’ As he said the words he realised that they were true. They had given him an amazing start to the business. And perhaps even a start in changing the future of his relationship with them.
‘There’s nothing we can say to change your mind?’
Patrick shook his head. ‘That’s flattering, but no.’
That was when he saw the first real sign of emotion from his mother ever. Tears glistening and pooling in her artfully made-up eyes. Her vulnerability was shocking and frightening at the same time.
‘I wish you luck, son,’ she said, her voice quivering but her posture ramrod-straight.
Hardy held out his hand. ‘Me too, son. You’ve done us proud.’
Ironic that it took him leaving the company for his father to articulate what he’d wanted to hear all along. What he’d wanted since he was a kid. A little attention.
‘Just so you know, I’m going to put a positive spin on this in the media. Talk up Fourde, make this a personal decision so we don’t face too much fallout.’
‘Thanks.’ Joyce’s slight nod reminded him of a queen acknowledging a recalcitrant subordinate.
He’d done it.
He was on his own.
Time to instigate proceedings—starting with securing the best in the jewellery business.
He needed to talk to Sapphire.
His parents might have given their approval and finally acknowledged he had talent, but Sapphire had supported him all along. Had taken a risk on him. Even after he’d made her life impossible in high school and they hadn’t spoken in ten years she’d taken a chance on his indie collection when she didn’t have to.
And she’d still been willing to support him—to the extent she would have followed him to Paris.
What had he done? Deliberately pushed her away.
He’d been so wrapped up in proving he could do this on his own he’d lost sight of the bigger picture. A picture that had an amazing woman who complemented him right by his side.
Not wanting to be distracted from achieving success and the ultimate vindication in going it alone was one thing.
But not taking a chance on letting Sapphire get close because he half expected her to let him down eventually too was foolish.
She’d stood by him after he’d barged into her life just over a month ago when she really hadn’t had any reason to.
He could rationalise away her loyalty as being for the Fourde Fashion name, but that didn’t explain her devotion to making his contemporary collection succeed.
That had been about him, all about him, and she’d backed him regardless.
The kind of devotion she’d displayed was beyond rare.
Confronting his folks, vocalising his plans, had ensured one thing.
He was about to make his dreams come true.
The question was could he convince Sapphire to join him for the ride?
Sapphie rushed into the elaborate foyer of Fourde Fashion, slowing when her heels struck marble. Ruby had told her to break a leg during her Paris trip. Her sister hadn’t meant literally.
She’d completed her third lap of the foyer when Patrick emerged from the wrought-iron elevator, striding for the glass front doors as if he had a million demons on his tail.
He had the long strides of a guy with places to be, but gone was the half-smirk, half-grin—the kind of daredevil smile women found infinitely appealing and that he’d used to great effect over the last month.
The way he looked now…Pensive. Driven. Tense. It sent her already thriving nerves into overdrive.
‘Patrick?’
He stopped and swivelled as she stepped out from behind a marble column, his expression incredulous.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘We needed to talk so here I am.’
He stared at her as if he couldn’t quite believe she was real and his mouth relaxed into that sexy smile. ‘Guess I should’ve expected it.’
Sapphie didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. The fact he seemed pleased to see her was a plus. The fact he hadn’t touched her yet? Big fat minus.
‘Can we go somewhere private?’
He winked. ‘So that’s why you really came to Paris?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘You’re such a guy.’
‘Sue me.’ He gestured for her to step out through the door first. ‘Come on, there’s a little café around the corner.’
So far so good. At least he hadn’t run screaming. Now to make him listen and hope to hell he’d tell her the truth.
They didn’t speak, but she caught him sneaking glances at her and she self-consciously tugged at her leopard-print trench, winding her black cashmere scarf tighter.
She’d headed for Fourde straight from the airport, desperate to see him before she lost her nerve, so she hadn’t seen much of Paris beyond the frame of a taxi window.
Now, as he ushered her towards an outdoor table at a cosy café tucked between an art supplies store and a shoe shop, she registered the fact she was in Paris. With a gorgeous guy.
It had been a secret fantasy when Patrick had first absconded all those years ago: imagining herself here, having fun, no responsibilities.
She’d resented him as time passed, envisaging him whooping it up while she threw herself into university studies and assisting her mum in her limited ‘free’ time.
After a while she’d deliberately forgotten him, wiping him from her mind, but every time she’d heard a mention of France, or had an illicit chocolate croissant treat or celebrated another Seaborns success with the finest French champagne, she’d remember him.
And wonder what might have been if he hadn’t run.
‘I want to know the real reason you didn’t want me to come here.’
She fired the question before he’d sat down and he stared at her in disbelief.
‘Can’t a guy order an espresso before the inquisition starts?’
‘Make it a cappuccino, throw in a macaron, and I’ll give you a few seconds to compose some believable excuses.’
He chuckled, and it gave her hope that maybe this trip hadn’t been a massive waste of time after all.
She waited until he’d placed their order and sat before leaning her forearms on the table and eyeballing him.
‘Care to enlighten me?’
‘Actually, I was planning on contacting you so we could talk—’
‘Sure you were.’ She took a deep breath and plunged on. ‘Look, I didn’t come all this way to stuff around. I want us to have an honest, adult conversation about why you pushed me away. And I’m not leaving Paris ’til you tell me the truth.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t do ultimatums all that well.’
‘Yet you were quite happy to do me.’
Shock tightened his mouth. ‘Crassness doesn’t do you justice.’
‘Oh, come on,’ she said, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. ‘Can’t you see I’m trying to snap you out of this stupor you seem to be in?’ She slammed her palms on the table, not caring when several people glanced their way. ‘How did your folks take the news of your impending departure from the family bosom?’
The tension pinching his lips eased. ‘Surprisingly well.’
‘That’s great.’ Seeing his softening had her hand snaking across the table, her fingers touching his. ‘In case you haven’t figured it out, dummy, I wouldn’t have flown all this way unless I was in love with you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to give us a fight
ing chance to see if we can make this work.’
Her chest heaved with the effort of blurting all that in one go and she inhaled deeply, willing him to say something—anything—rather than stare at her with a disheartening mix of wariness and shock.
‘You love me?’
She would have laughed at his stunned expression if her heart hadn’t been in her mouth. ‘That’s the general gist.’
‘I was coming to see you…I didn’t think…I mean, it’s all so complicated…’
So complicated. But he’d been coming to see her. That had to be a good thing, right? Especially when he’d effectively ended it in Melbourne.
‘What’s complicated?’
He dragged a hand through his hair, tugged on his collar, loosened his tie—anything to out off answering.
‘You being with me right now.’
‘Isn’t that my choice to make?’
A camera flash went off at a nearby table and he jumped. ‘See that? Just the beginning. I’ve lived through media scrutiny before. It’s tough—really tough. I wouldn’t be willing to put you through the stress of it.’
Okay, so he was looking out for her. That meant he cared. Cared enough to give her up rather than put her through whatever he thought she couldn’t handle. But she still didn’t understand what it was.
‘Thanks, but I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.’
‘Wasn’t that the problem before, when you wound up at that health spa? You tried to take care of everything and ended up getting ill?’
She frowned, more embarrassed by her foolishness in letting the situation get that out of hand than how fragile she’d been.
‘That was physical exhaustion from pushing my body too hard. I learned from it. Changed. That’s what people do—learn from their mistakes.’
Look at you, she wanted to say. This power-driven, determined entrepreneur was far removed from the laid-back goof-off he’d once been.
But now wasn’t the time to bring up high school. She wanted answers to the here and now.
‘I’m not the same person I was twelve months ago, and I’m guessing you’re not either.’
He folded his arms and leaned back. ‘Let me guess. Dear old Serge blabbed about the spring collection.’
‘He might’ve mentioned it to Ruby, who told me.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m sorry that your parents had such a problem with you. They should have your name up in lights after scoring two major coups in a year.’
‘It’s no big deal.’
But it was. She could see it in the slight slump of his shoulders, the downturned corners of his mouth.
And it broke her heart to see an amazingly gifted guy like Patrick not being recognised for his talents.
‘Then I think you’ve made a stellar decision in branching out on your own. The fashion world’s going to love you.’
‘Like you do?’
He spoke so softly she had to strain forward to listen.
‘I never thought…’ He shook his head and looked away.
‘Thought what?’
He dragged his gaze back to hers, the hint of vulnerability buoying her hope. ‘That someone like you could love someone like me.’
In that moment it all clicked into place—his reasons for pushing her away.
Thanks to his parents’ chronic neglect over the years he didn’t think he was good enough.
The thought that they’d bruised his self-esteem to such an extent made her want to march back to Fourde Fashion and tell them a few harsh home truths.
‘Listen to me. You’re the most amazing man I’ve ever known. You’re smart and funny and gorgeous. And you have more creative flair in your little finger than half the people in this business. Surely you know that?’
He shrugged. ‘The fallout from my first show was nasty. I got savaged in the press, shunned by aficionados for a while—’til I started playing their game. Attending their parties. Living their lifestyle. Going it alone I’ll risk alienating a lot of people again. Sure you want to be part of that?’
Swallowing the rising lump in her throat because he cared that much, she flexed her biceps. ‘Thanks to you, I’m stronger now than I’ve been in years. You’ve made me more energised and more alive than I could’ve hoped for. So whatever you face—count me in.’
‘What about Seaborns? It’s your life.’
‘My life is wherever you are.’
‘Careful, I see a violin quartet heading our way,’ he said.
His dry humour was one of the many things she loved about him.
Sapphire Seaborn loved Patrick Fourde.
Who would’ve thought it?
‘That’s why you ran, isn’t it? You expected the merde to hit the fan once you’d broken away from the family business and you didn’t want me exposed to it?’
‘Actually, it’s also to do with the fact I needed to do this on my own.’ He sighed. ‘Last time my folks had to handle the fallout. This time I didn’t want anyone else to take the flak but me.’
‘Want to know something? Going it alone can be incredibly exhilarating. When you’re successful, you’re flying. It’s an incredible rush. But then there are other times when it’s nice to have people along for the ride.’ She tapped her chest. ‘How do I feel in here? Invincible, with you by my side.’
A hint of wariness still hovered. ‘That’s a hell of a responsibility for a guy to handle.’
She blew out an exasperated breath. ‘I meant I’m stronger than I’ve ever been. How you make me feel empowers me.’ Her hand gestured at the space on her right. ‘I don’t need you here all the time to feel good, but it’s a lot more fun when you are.’
A glimmer of a smile eased the tension lines bracketing his mouth. ‘You’re a lot ballsier now than you were in high school. I like it.’
‘Don’t you mean love?’
He took an eternity to answer, literally leaving her on the edge of her seat.
‘Walking away from you proved that,’ he said, pinching the bridge of his nose before pinning her with a stare that snatched her breath. ‘Only a dumb guy in love could rationalise himself into walking away from the best thing to ever happen to him.’
She sank back into her chair, sporting a goofy grin. ‘You love me, huh?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ He grinned right back at her, but it faded too soon. ‘This could get tough. Launching a new fashion house in Europe is highly competitive, and throw in the angle that I’m going up against family? Paparazzi will have a field-day.’
‘So? All publicity is good publicity, right?’ Sapphire waved away his concern. ‘Know what I say? Bring it on—because Patrick Fourde is headed for the stars and nothing can stop him.’
He stared at her, wide-eyed. ‘You have that much faith in me?’
She nodded and snagged his hand across the table. ‘Absolutely. I made the mistake of not believing in you once. Never again.’
He squeezed her hand. ‘You thought I was a no-good lout in high school.’
‘No, I thought you were the hottest rebel I’d ever seen and I envied you beyond belief.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I wanted to be like you. Carefree. Cool. No responsibilities. I hated the fact you were so popular and didn’t seem to work at it, while I was this rich nerd girl who had her whole life mapped out.’ She giggled nervously. ‘I developed a crush, and that only added to my angst. Because no way could I risk you finding out—’
‘So you pushed me away instead?’
Sheepish, she shrugged. ‘I had no choice in Biology, because we had to work together, but the rest of the time? Yeah, being around you was tough.’
The cocky grin spreading across his face was familiar and welcome. ‘Must’ve been…pretending you didn’t like me while wanting to jump me.’
‘It wasn’t like that.’ She blushed. ‘’Til that kiss…’
‘Lucky we made up for lost time in Melbourne recently,’ he said, lifting her hand to his mouth to brush kisses across her knuckles,
setting her latent desire for him alight.
‘You know, I’ve heard Paris is the most romantic city in the world.’ She glanced around, taking in the centuries-old buildings, the paved paths, the lovers strolling arm-in-arm. ‘We should put it to the test.’
‘You sure about this? Putting Seaborns on hold? Trialling a relationship among the frenetic pace of launching a new business?’
She should be glad he was putting her first. Instead all she could think about was holing away with him in some tiny, cosy garret with wine and pastries and boxes of condoms.
‘Ruby is running Seaborns for the next six weeks ’til we figure out where this is going. And I’m hoping you’ll want our jewellery for all your upcoming designs. As for the rest? I’m with you all the way.’
He let out a whoop that had passers-by glancing at them with indulgent smiles. Romance was commonplace in Paris after all.
‘How about we take the coffee and macarons to go?’
‘Oui,’ she said, standing before he’d barely finished the question.
He pulled her into his arms, holding her as if he’d never let go.
Fine by her.
‘You know my new venture will need the best accessorising money can buy?’ he murmured in her ear, nibbling the lobe and shooting sparks through her body. ‘How would you feel about taking Seaborns global? Or at least to France?’
‘You’re full of brilliant ideas,’ she said, thrilled he’d arrived at the same solution she had on the long flight over here. ‘And here’s one for you.’
She stood on tiptoes and whispered in his ear what she’d do to him in the privacy of wherever they were staying.
They never did get to have their coffee and macarons.
EPILOGUE
PATRICK WASN’T A fan of long distance relationships. There was only so far Skype and a phone could go, despite his girlfriend being the most inventive woman he’d ever met.
He’d always known Sapphire had hidden depths, and he was eternally grateful he was the guy she’d chosen to plumb them.
Though there was an upside to long distance. The reunions. Over the last twelve months they’d snatched time together in Melbourne, Paris and once halfway in Singapore for a long weekend.
