Altair was busy for most of the next week, but they talked whenever there was time and sent texts in every spare moment. Heather was busy with work as well. Cooking had never been more fulfilling, and her food had never been more delicious. Thinking about the next time she would talk to Altair made everything both easier and more satisfying. Everything felt significant and immediate. She was living in a perfect, glittering moment, the only flaw the lingering worry that, sooner or later, it would have to end.
It was the following Monday when Altair called her.
"Are you busy this afternoon?" he asked. He was clearly excited.
"I can clear my schedule," she said at once, excited for the opportunity to see him again. She remembered an instant later that she'd decided to tell him the truth the next time she saw him, and her eagerness wavered a little. "Where do you want to go?"
"It isn't a date," Altair said. "Rather, it’s a working date. I got an offer for an interview on Tanya, that talk show with all the gifts? Because of all the drama with the tabloids, they want you to come along and model some of the shoes from my new line. This will be fantastic exposure for my collection, and for you."
"Oh." Heather froze, surprised. "They want me?"
"Yes," Altair said. "I'm inclined to agree, and not just because of the tabloid buzz. I want to make you the face of my new line. You're exactly the woman I design for—beautiful, sophisticated, mysterious. I can't wait for the whole world to see you in my shoes."
Heather struggled for an answer, worries fighting back and forth in her head. If she said yes, they were sure to ask questions about her on the show, and then it would come out who she really was. But he sounded so excited. This really was such a good opportunity for him. She couldn't mess it up just because she was a coward. Maybe she'd have time to tell him before the show started.
"Okay," she said, forcing herself to sound as excited as he was. "I'll be there."
"This is going to be so fantastic for both of us," Altair said, and she could hear him smiling. He was clearly delighted. "I'll send a car for you. I'll see you soon, Heather."
"Can't wait," Heather said, though she felt like her stomach was a black hole, collapsing inward.
An hour later, she dropped Chloe off with her mother downstairs.
"How's Eleanor?" she asked as Chloe ran inside.
"They're releasing her from the hospital tomorrow," Linda said brightly. "That old bird is going to outlive us all. Though she isn't allowed gin anymore, so there go all my bridge winnings!"
"I'm sure you'll manage without it," Heather said, laughing. She bit her lip then, unsure if she should say anything. "Um, do you watch Tanya by any chance?"
"Of course," Linda replied. "It's my favorite program. I never miss it. I'm even part of Tanya's book club."
So she would inevitably see this then. Regardless of how this turned out, it meant she and Chloe would probably find out about the modeling thing.
"Well, um, I'm going to be on it today?" she admitted a bit awkwardly. Linda stared at her blankly. "With Sheikh Altair. I'll be modeling some of his shoes."
"On Tanya?!" Linda swooned against the door. "Heather! You're becoming high society before my eyes!"
Heather laughed a little awkwardly.
"Don't count on it," she said. "Anyway, I just wanted to warn you so it wouldn't catch you by surprise since you watch the show."
"Oh don't mind me!" Linda said. "Go become rich and famous so you can elevate me to the life of comfort and luxury I've always deserved. Go on!"
She shooed Heather away, and Heather hurried downstairs, hoping she wasn't about to disappoint her mother as well as Altair.
A stretch limo was waiting outside her apartment building, and Heather nearly balked and ran back inside. Could she really do this, tell Altair she'd been lying to him right before they were supposed to go out in front of an audience and cameras? Even if she didn't, he was bound to find out. Her lies wouldn't hold up in an interview. She was doomed no matter what.
She got in the car, feeling like her heart was being squeezed by a cruel fist. She had to do something. She cared about Altair. She didn't want to go on lying to him. She didn't want to see him hurt either. She'd tell him. She had to. Hopefully, he would be able to see past her dishonesty and the fact that she wasn't a glamorous model but a glorified cook. They'd promised they would really try to make this work. They could make this work. She'd never wanted anything so much in her life.
Caught up in her own thoughts, she hardly noticed the familiar turns the car was taking until it pulled up in front of a familiar studio. She'd been here once or twice before, though she hadn't realized it was where Tanya was filmed. This was where Craig had worked when they'd been dating. He was a television producer who worked on a variety of big-name daytime shows. She felt an uneasy stirring in her stomach. This couldn't be his work, could it?
She shook off her fear and hurried inside, checking in at the door and going to look for Altair. She found his dressing room under guard by show security.
"Excuse me," she said, trying to get past them. "I need to speak to the Sheikh."
"No one gets in," the guard said flatly, stopping her with a single huge hand. "The Sheikh isn't to be disturbed before filming starts. Producer's orders."
"Producer’s?" Heather felt the pit in her stomach grow wider. With no other choice, she turned away from Altair's dressing room.
Craig was behind her, maybe ten feet away, a cold smile on his face as he watched her flounder. She had been set up. Her heart hammered frantically, and she felt as though there was ice water in her veins. She searched for an exit, hurrying away, eager to put distance between her and her ex.
She had to get out of here. She couldn't let it come out this way. What if Craig had already told Altair everything? If there was anyone who could make this situation even worse, it was Craig. He'd probably made her sound like a monster. The man had a way with manipulative words. Heather's head was spinning. She wanted to run, but she couldn't just leave Altair. She'd promised to be here! What would she say to him if she just disappeared when he needed her?
She stopped in the middle of the studio, nearly crashing into a technician who was carrying a light fixture. She apologized quickly as she gathered her wits. No, she couldn't run. She was already in too deep. She hung her head, clenching her fists. Fine. She couldn't go backward. She'd just have to go forward. She could power through this. Even if this was the end of everything, she would at least face it head-on instead of folding like the pushover she had been all her life.
She headed into makeup and let them dress and prepare her, feeling like a sacrifice being dolled up for the altar. Altair was already onstage doing his interview segment. After the first commercial break, she would do her walk, showing off Altair's new line. Then there was supposed to be a second interview segment with her. She would have gambled on being able to bluff her way through it, but with Craig involved she had a feeling that wouldn't work. She had a feeling they already knew exactly who and what she was and were just waiting for the most compelling moment to spring it on her during the interview. Before that happened, she had to get Altair alone and talk to him, if Craig hadn't already.
Before she knew it, she was dressed in swirling pastel blue chiffon and the ruby slipper heels and was standing in front of a stage door. She took a deep breath, and when the assistant cued her, she stepped out.
They'd set up a small catwalk for her on the main stage, facing the live audience. Tanya, a smiling, matronly woman, and her guests were seated near the walk for the best view. Heather's eyes found Altair at once. He smiled at her, all warmth and encouragement, and she knew at once that Craig hadn't gotten to him yet. There was still time.
She walked three times, changing shoes at high speed between circuits of the little promenade. The last pair was based on Cinderella's glass slippers. Crystal clear and sculptural, shimmering with white sapphire accents, they really did look like something a fairy godmother would create. They were Heather's favorite of the whole collection. She strode out onto the walk, grim determination in her stride. She could get through this. However it ended, this wouldn't be the end of the world. But God, she hoped it wouldn't be the end of her relationship either.
She stopped at the end of the walk as the music ended, striking a final pose.
"Wonderful! Just wonderful!" Tanya applauded, standing up. Altair stood beside her, looking at Heather with undisguised fondness. "Simply beautiful work, Sheikh Altair. And a beautiful model as well."
Tanya paused as her audience cheered.
"In fact, let's bring her down here for a chat," Tanya said, to the audience's enthusiastic response. "I understand there's been a lot of rumors flying around about you and her, Sheikh Altair."
"Yes, that's true," Altair said smoothly, moving forward. "In fact, I'd like to address some of those rumors today."
Heather froze as she was about to step down from the catwalk.
"There's been a great deal of speculation about our relationship," Altair said. "I think this is the perfect opportunity to come out into the open."
He turned to Heather, offering her a hand down.
"Heather," he said gently, his hand outstretched, "I'd like to make my intentions to you as clear and as official as I can. Will you let me?"
Heather's head spun, the dizziness so intense she felt her stomach turn. Her heart screamed at her to take Altair's hand, to kiss him passionately, to say yes. She wanted to be with him more than she had words to say. And yet she was torn, the other half of her thrown into sheer panic by the sudden turn. She'd assumed questions would be asked about the relationship, but she'd planned to dodge them, not make them the focus of the interview.
Time had slowed to a crawl. She saw Craig, just offstage, talking quickly into his mic. She saw the look of dawning surprise on Tanya's face as she registered whatever he was saying through her earpiece. Heather doubted it was anything good. Craig was telling her about Heather's lie, preparing her to tear Heather open onstage after Altair had all but confessed his love in front of everyone. Panic flooded Heather's veins with adrenaline and scrambled her thoughts. Her earlier resolve crumbled under the tsunami of fear and surprise. Altair's hand was outstretched toward her, and she was already, instinctively, reaching for it. He was waiting for her to join him, to say she loved him too. And she couldn't do it.
Altair's expression shifted to concern as he saw the panic she was feeling. But before he could say a word, before rational thought could catch up with her, before the disaster she'd been waiting for could bring the roof down on her head, Heather turned and ran.