She held it together during the taxi ride, and even as she scaled the stairs to her apartment. Only when Josie’s worried face appeared behind the front door did the emotions come flooding out. She threw her arms around her roommate and sobbed into her shoulder.
“It was a nightmare Josie. It was prom night all over again.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Holly, it’s Thatcher. Let me in.”
It was the next morning, and after crying too much and consuming copious amounts of ice-cream, Holly had collapsed into her bed with a sugar coma. She moaned into her pillows against the ache in her head, then dragged herself out of her nest. Once she unlocked the door, she trudged back to bed.
“So, are we going to talk about last night?” Thatcher asked gently, walking over. Holly buried her face in her pillow and shut her eyes. The problem was, she couldn’t close her mind’s eye. And all it could see was William kissing another woman.
“Come on, it’s not as bad as you think,” Thatcher said. Holly sat up and stared at him with shock.
“You’re not serious,” she said. “You were there, right? You saw what happened. I thought you of all people would understand why I’m devastated.”
Thatcher scratched his cheek and shrugged.
“Ah, but you did your typical move.”
Holly frowned at him.
“What?”
“You just took off. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Run away when things get tough.”
Holly considered throwing a pillow at his head just as Josie walked into the room. She froze with the pillow in her hands, primed to collide with Thatcher’s head.
“Hear him out, Holly. Thatcher has news,” Josie said.
News? Curiosity got the better of Holly, so she placed the pillow back on the bed. The move seemed to satisfy Thatcher; he cleared his throat as Josie joined them on the bed.
“When you left, everything went crazy. Emily demanded an emergency meeting with the producers, and they disappeared into a room for hours. Meanwhile, the guests got more and more drunk and things got out of hand.”
Thatcher stopped and looked at Holly, as if hoping for a reaction, but she remained frozen, slowly taking in the information.
“I was talking to the camera guys and none of us knew what to do. William and Estelle had a full-blown argument in front of everyone, and then they both left. I didn’t even see the girl he had been kissing. It’s like she just vanished.”
Holly shot Thatcher a suspicious look.
“Did you know Estelle is William’s mom?”
Thatcher frowned.
“No. But… that suddenly makes a lot of sense.”
He shook his head, and sighed. “Anyway,” he continued, clasping his hands. “Emily came out and told everyone to go home. Rumor has it, they’ve cancelled the show.”
Holly’s heart leapt. At least her humiliation would not be broadcasted to the world.
“So, just like that, it’s over?” she asked. Thatcher shrugged.
“That’s show business for you. These things happen all the time.”
“Tell her the news, Thatcher!” Josie urged, nudging Thatcher’s arm. Holly crossed her legs and rubbed the back of her neck.
“There’s more?” she asked. Her mind was already reeling.
Thatcher nodded excitedly.
“I’ve been speaking with Estelle about Paris. How would you like to take part in Fashion Week?”
Holly jumped up to her feet, and the sudden movement nearly sent Josie flying off the bed.
“What?!”
Thatcher chuckled. Josie got up too and grabbed Holly’s hands.
“Let’s all go to Paris together! It’ll be an adventure.”
Holly couldn’t stop herself from squealing as the three of them bounced on the bed together.
“We’re going to Paris!” Holly shouted to the ceiling. Then the three of them laughed.
Paris would be a great move, Holly thought. She’d get away from the embarrassment, forget about William and wipe the slate clean. And she wouldn’t be left behind.
She only needed to make sure she didn’t fall flat on her face on the catwalk.
Chapter Fourteen
Fashion Week arrived, and Holly was ready. With the help of her friends, she had performed several hundred catwalks along the cobbled path outside their maisonette. She figured if she could keep upright on cobbled stones, a smooth stage would be a piece of cake.
Paris was beautiful. The air was cleaner, and there was a constant aroma of good food.
Even though Holly had no idea what everyone was saying, she couldn’t help but walk around the streets of Paris soaking up all of its culture. The babble of talk and string music was a symphony she would never tire of.
She was on top of the world, and William could not have been further from her mind.
At least, that was what she told Josie and Thatcher. To them, he was nothing but a guy she went out with a couple of times. But when the lights were out and she was in her narrow bed, covered in scratchy blankets, the only thing to occupy her mind was William. He invaded her dreams. The echo of his laugh haunted her mind whenever she did something funny, and her hands felt empty without William to hold.
It was nonsensical to think about this guy. They had spent so little time together. There was still so much about him that was a mystery. And yet, something about him felt so familiar. Like they had known each other for a lifetime but had their memories wiped. Knowing that his mother was a world class fashion icon made her understand why he didn’t date models. Maybe Holly really was all wrong for him. She tried to convince herself it was all for the best, but as she waited backstage to go out on her very first catwalk, William’s face flooded her mind.
“Time to go.” One of the staff gave her a little push. Holly took a breath, put on a blank face, and walked out onto the catwalk.
Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fall.
The lights were dazzling,
