Chapter Eleven
The taxi stopped in front of the Ellicotts’ home in Kensington as I dug through my tote to find my wallet.
“Swanky address,” the driver said.
“Uh-huh,” I muttered as I pulled out my remaining pounds.
“Who lives here? Famous movie star or something?”
“Not a movie star, no,” I answered.
“Then why all the paparazzi?” he asked.
I ducked down. “Shit. Where?”
He leaned forward on the steering wheel and pointed. “There are two there behind the lamppost and another one back by that hedge.”
I peeked my head up. “They’ve got the house surrounded, all right.”
“Are you the movie star? You look kind of familiar.”
I passed him the money. “Me? No. I’m nobody.”
I jumped out of the car and tore inside the gates before even one camera could get its flash off. Gemma was waiting for me in the vestibule.
“Victoria and Margaret are in the sunroom,” she said sternly.
I nodded and made my way down the long hallway to them. When I walked in, Victoria and Margaret were already seated next to each other on the large toile settee. I parked my carry-on in the corner of the room and sat down in the miniature armchair across from them. Victoria gestured toward the tea set sitting in the center of the small table between us. I stood up, poured myself a cup, and sat back down.
“I hope your trip over was pleasant,” Margaret said.
I took a small sip of tea and swallowed hard. “Yes, very pleasant.”
“And the paparazzi outside wasn’t too intrusive?”
“I made a mad dash to your door,” I said, smiling. Neither one of their expressions lightened up.
Victoria cleared her throat. “I assume you know why you’re here, Gigi?”
I fumbled with the teacup and saucer and placed it back on the table. “Of course, and I want to explain.”
Victoria rose from her seat. “Annabelle, darling, come join us in here,” she said.
I swiveled around in my seat. All five foot ten inches of Annabelle Ellicott was walking into the sunroom to join her mother and sister.
“As I was saying, I’d like to give my side of things,” I said.
“I’m not going to mince words here, Gigi. I was incredibly disappointed to wake up and discover the whole world knows G. Malone’s designing my wedding gown,” Victoria said.
I let the fact she said is designing my wedding gown rather than was designing my wedding gown hang in the air for a moment before I responded. Finally, I said, “I can only imagine.”
“As you know, I was hoping to keep my decision a secret a bit longer.”
I looked over at Annabelle. She was daintily holding her cup of tea, nibbling on a biscuit. Her bouncy blowout was lying perfectly across her delicate shoulders.
“I can only tell you we’ve done everything possible to maintain discretion. I didn’t even tell our Global Director for Brand Events we were chosen. Not only does she live for this sort of thing, but it would have been beneficial to tell her as soon as we signed the contract so that she could begin planning our brand’s publicity strategy. But I didn’t. I promise, I really don’t have the first clue who let the cat of the bag. Maybe our phones were tapped? Jamie told me the paparazzi’s been known to do that here.”
Margaret chimed in. “It’s done now. The news has been splashed everywhere.”
I turned to face Victoria. “I understand if you want to break the contract with G. Malone. We didn’t breach it, but I would understand.”
“She doesn’t want to break the contract,” Annabelle said.
“The press is going wild over my pick of G. Malone. Anna Wintour herself called to congratulate me on my bold decision to go with a little-known up-and-coming designer rather than a more established house like Valentino or De La Renta.”
We did design a winning Oscar gown. Up-and-coming isn’t necessarily accurate, I thought to myself. “That’s great news.”
Gemma walked in from the room’s entranceway. “We’re fine to address the choice with the press as long as the actual wedding dress design doesn’t get out.”
“I promise to guard it all with my life,” I said.
It was an easy promise to make, considering that at the moment, I didn’t have much in the way of designs or sketches anyway.
Victoria relaxed her pose and smiled. “Good. I’m so glad this is settled.”
“You must want to get to your hotel to check in and freshen up?” Margaret said.
“That’d be great. I’ll plan on returning here at two like we planned?”
Annabelle stood up. “I’ll walk Gigi out.” Annabelle sidled up to me as we made our way back to the vestibule. “Mother and Victoria are always a bit dramatic. I hope you aren’t too put off by everything.”
“I stepped off the plane and saw my face plastered all over the airport. Hard not be a bit put off. I’m glad Victoria’s willing to give us another chance though.”
“Unfortunately, our whole family’s had to get used to it since Victoria and Alexander put us on the map. It’s part of the reason I don’t want my relationship with Perry to be too public just yet.
“I can understand.”
She smiled. “And I wish you’d told me we have a friend in common.”
My stomach dropped. “Who’s that?”
“Alicia Scheinman. She sent me a note over the weekend.”
“Oh, right, she told me you two did a training program together a few years ago.”
“She was so in love with our boss. We all thought she was going to move to London, but then she shocked us all by deciding to get back together with her ex. What was his name?”
“Joshua,” I answered.
“That’s right. Joshua. But that’s not the man she ended up marrying, right?”
“No. She married someone else.”
“Small world. And I hear you’ve been seeing a lot of Gideon Cooper?”
I jerked my head up. “What? No. I mean, yes, we have seen each other a few times. Where’d you hear that?”
“His sister. Linney and I go way back to boarding school at Mayfield. She wanted a little inside scoop on who has her brother all goggle-eyed.”
“And what’d you tell her?”
“That you’re absolutely lovely.”
I checked into my hotel room and threw myself across the bed. Between the overnight flight and my chaotic morning, I needed a few minutes of shut-eye to get through the rest of the day. I hit the do-not-disturb button on the hotel phone and burrowed into the pile of feathered pillows at the top of the bed. My eyes had been closed for maybe two minutes when my cell phone rang. I rolled over, reached across the bed, hit the end call button, and rolled back. A few seconds later it rang again. I grunted and slid over to answer it.
“Hello?” I mumbled.
“Can you believe it? You’re on the cover of The Daily Telegraph, The Guardian, The Observer, and The Daily Mail. And those are just the British papers.”
“Jordana?” I murmured.
“When I sent out the press release last night, I had no idea it would get traction this quickly.”
I quickly sat up and leaned back into the headboard. “You sent out the press release?”
“Of course. I knew it would be a big deal, but this is crazy. Oh my God, G. Malone’s trending on Twitter,” she screeched.
I got off the bed and began pacing around the room. “Why did you put out a press release? Who told you G. Malone was designing Victoria’s dress?”
“Duh. You did, Gigi.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“What, were you so drunk you don’t remember?” she said, laughing.
It all came back to me like a flash—Jamie handing me his phone at the bar to tell Jordana we wouldn’t be coming into the office and my subsequent rant about Perry’s billboard in Times Square. Jordana trying to talk me off the ledge by rattling off a list of G. Malone’s accomplishments and what an honor it was to even be in the running to design Victoria Ellicott’s wedding dress. Then me telling her we’d already been chosen but leaving out the part that it was to be kept a secret. I’d been the one to breach the contract. Not Gideon, not Jordana—me. I spilled the beans.
I slapped my hand against my forehead and said softly, “I remember now.”
“Now? What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Have you spoken to Jamie yet?”
“Not yet. I didn’t think he’d be up this early.”
“I’ll give him a call.”
“Great. I can cross that off my to-do list.”
I couldn’t help but imagine her sitting in her robe, checking things off a clipboard like when she was a counselor at Chinooka. “It’s five a.m. in New York. How do you have a to-do list already?”
“I woke up to over fifty emails from publications and entertainment shows looking for comments or quotes from G. Malone. I think I’m gonna skip Flywheel this morning and head straight to the office.”
“Jord, take a breath, okay? Maybe even try to go back to bed for a bit.”
“I can’t, Gigi. It’s all so exciting. It’s everything we’ve been working toward—making G. Malone a household name. Now it won’t just be a household name—our little brand is going to have the spotlight of the whole world shining on it. Besides, I’m booked on the Today show this morning. They’re doing a retrospective on royal wedding gowns and want me to comment on what direction G. Malone is going to take with Victoria’s dress. What do you want me to say or not say? We should give a subtle hint about the design but also try to keep them guessing.”
Considering my sketchbook was basically blank, keeping them guessing would be the easy part.
“You can say we’re working to design a gown that complements Victoria’s beauty and the traditions of the day.”
I could hear her typing away on the other end of the phone. “Got it. That’s a perfect soundbite. Okay, Gigi, I should run. I need to answer some of these emails and get over to 40 Rock for the segment. Let’s debrief later.”
She hung up the phone before I could even say goodbye. I cradled my head in my hands, building up the courage to call Jamie and confess that my gaffe had almost lost us the most important opportunity of our careers.
He picked up on the first ring. “Morning, or should I say afternoon? What time is it there?”
I glanced over at the antique-looking clock on the nightstand. “Almost noon.”
“What time are you heading over to Kensington?”
“I was already there.” I stood up from the bed. “So, I need you to not freak out about what I’m about to say.”
“We got sacked, didn’t we? I knew Victoria was gonna change her mind and want to wear an f-ing De La Renta. Fine. If she wants to look like every other cliché cookie-cutter bride and have that be what people remember about her, I guess that’s her choice.”
“What’d I just say about not freaking out?”
He huffed into the phone. “Go ahead.”
“We weren’t fired, but the cat’s out of the bag. Everyone knows we’re designing the dress.”
“What?” he shrieked into the phone. “There were only a handful of people who knew. Who said something?”
I took a deep breath. “I did.”
“You did?” he yelled back at me.
“You and I got way too drunk the other day, then we saw that marquee for Perry’s show in Times Square. I guess it threw me more than I realized. I don’t remember doing it, but apparently, I told Jordana about the wedding gown and then she took the story and ran with it. Our faces are all over the news. We’re trending on Twitter.”
“Jesus, Gigi. What’d Gemma say? Victoria?”
“They’re upset the news came out so early but happy with the response it’s getting. We’ve still got the gig if we want it?”
“What do you mean if? Of course, we still want it.”
I laid back down on the bed. “Ignore me. I’m being stupid.”
“I’m on the six p.m. flight tonight. Think you can avoid making international headlines again ‘til then?” Jamie asked.
“Fingers crossed.”