Chapter Seven
A few days and several more dates with Gideon later I was back in New York City working on Victoria’s wedding portfolio at G. Malone’s design studio. A combination of jet lag and anxiety over the wedding gown had me up at four a.m., tossing and turning until I eventually gave up trying to fall back asleep, showered, and started my day. When Jamie walked into the studio at nine thirty carrying two cappuccinos, he was surprised to find me there. Lately, I’d been coming in sometime between eleven and noon and staying until all hours of the night.
It was still hard to be in my apartment alone. The space was less than six hundred square feet, but since Perry had moved out, it felt huge and lonely, like it’d swallow me up whole if I stayed in it too long. So, I threw myself into building G. Malone, spending as much time in the studio as possible, terrified the hurt of it all would paralyze me creatively, just as it had when things ended with Joshua, and I got myself fired from Diane von Furstenberg. Up until now, I’d been able to channel my emotions into my work, and the brand hadn’t suffered. But after this trip to London and seeing Perry with Annabelle Ellicott, I could sense that familiar ache rising from deep within my soul, threatening to take hold of me. It was taking all I had to keep it at bay.
“Welcome home,” Jamie said, kissing both my cheeks and passing me one of the steaming cups. He flung his coat and scarf over a dress form and pulled his stool up next to me. “Tell me everything. I’ve been dying to hear all about the date with Mr. Downton.”
“Dates. Plural,” I said, correcting him.
Jamie raised his eyebrows.
“We had a great time. We got to most of the spots on my sightseeing list and even hit up the Red Coat Club—ever hear of it? Pretty swanky place, right up your alley, actually.”
He practically spit up his coffee. “Who’d you blow to get in there?”
“Jamie! Jesus! Gideon got us in.”
“Who’d he blow?”
“Uh, nobody, at least not that I’m aware of. Turns out he’s a viscount.”
Jamie’s eyes got huge. “Shut up! He’s in line to be an earl?”
“How do you know that?”
“I watched all six seasons of Downton this weekend. Amazing, by the way. But a viscount? Wow, Gigi. Are you seeing him again?”
“Maybe. He told me he’d like to.”
He pushed a piece of hair out of my eyes. “Then why do you look so miserable?”
“I ran into Perry and Annabelle at the club. She’s…she’s…perfect. Perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect accent, pedigree, family. All of it perfect.”
“She’s not perfect, Gigi.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
Jamie put his arm around me and squeezed. “Well, maybe design her a dress for the wedding that’ll make her look a little less perfect.”
“I’m not going to sabotage the wedding of the century.”
“Who said anything about sabotage? Just design something with a few unflattering pleats,” he said with a wink.
I spun the stool around to face my drafting table and flipped through the mostly empty pages of my sketchbook. Jamie and I’d been tasked with designing about fifteen looks for Victoria and another dozen or so for the other members of the bridal party. Essentially, we had to create an entire collection plus the finale look, the bridal gown. It was a daunting undertaking, and, at the moment, I didn’t have a single clue where to begin. I pushed my sketchbook aside and picked up the stack of newspapers and magazines one of our interns had collected while we were out of town. Jamie and I liked to go through them once a week to get a sense of which designers certain celebrities were favoring and any emerging trends.
I thumbed through US Weekly and People then turned to the New York Times. Staring up at me from the Arts and Leisure section was the cover story on Perry that Alicia had told me about when I was in London. I peeked behind my shoulder. Jamie was wearing earphones, sketching away at his table, and a few interns were at their desks, answering emails. I turned back to the paper and started reading.
The reporter started the article with a deep look into Perry’s childhood in Oxshott, spent surrounded by some of the greatest classical musicians of our time, including his father, Abe Gillman, the world-renowned violinist. Then the reporter dove into his “lost years,” the ones he spent working as a counselor at a small sleepaway camp in Milbank, Pennsylvania, trying to complete his doctoral thesis. Perry was quoted saying, “That was a difficult time in my life. I was running away from some personal issues and trying to find myself. I wouldn’t say the time was wasted, but I wish I had more to show for that period.”
A hard, rough lump formed in my throat. I coughed to clear it, and all three interns turned to look at me. I gave them the thumbs-up, letting them know I was okay and turned my attention back to the Times. I turned to the last page of the article, which talked about Perry’s creative process and all the historical research he did for Elizabeth, and read the last few paragraphs discussing his already acclaimed portrayal of Robert Dudley. Answering the reporter’s question about whether he’d ever personally experienced the kind of fiery and passionate relationship Elizabeth and Robert supposedly shared, he said, “Some of the best relationships challenge you to be a better, different person. They’re usually the ones where you don’t start off on equal or sure footing but eventually, you find your way there. Those relationships are never the lasting ones, though. They require too much compromise, too many concessions. Some romances are intense and wonderful but are simply doomed from the start.”
There they were, his feelings about us and our past relationship in black and white, out there for the world to read. I was folding the paper up to toss it into the wastepaper basket below my desk when the phone rang.
“Georgica Goldstein,” I answered.
“Gideon Cooper,” he replied.
I sat upright. “Oh, hi, how are you?”
“I’m great. I wanted to make sure you got home okay?”
“Yeah, thank you. It’s an easy trip,” I said.
“I’m glad to hear it. Any plans to come back across the pond?”
I glanced down at my computer and quickly scrolled through a series of emails from Gemma Landry with dates and details for my next meeting with Victoria. “It looks like maybe sometime next week, but nothing’s definite. It’s all still very cloak and dagger.”
“I’m not sure I can wait that long to see you again. What are you doing this weekend?”
“This weekend? The one in four days from now?”
“Yes, that very one.”
“I was going to help my friend Jamie and his husband look at a few apartments, and I have an appointment to get my hair cut.”
“Perfect, ’cause I just put a ticket to come and see you on hold. I’d land at six thirty Friday night.”
Gideon didn’t just want to visit, he wanted to visit this weekend. Was I ready for that? Perry’s cologne was still sitting on my bathroom vanity.
“I had a wonderful few days with you in London and have some time off from Highclere. I want to get to know you better. Don’t overthink it. I’m not.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “Let me see if I can cancel my plans. Can I call you back before the end of the day?”
“I’ll be waiting,” he said.
I hung up and walked over to Jamie’s table. I tapped him on the shoulder. He took off his headphones and spun around.
“Do you and Thom still need my help looking at apartments this weekend?” I asked.
“What, do you have a hot date or something?”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Shut the front door. Who is it, that guy who’s always checking you out at SoulCycle?”
“Gideon.”
He put his hands over his mouth. “Viscount Gideon?”
“Viscount Gideon,” I repeated. “He has some time off from work and wants to get to know me better.”
“That’s great, isn’t it?”
“It’s kind of fast, though, right? Don’t you think it’s sort of fast?” I looked down and into Jamie’s eyes.
Jamie reached up and rubbed the small of my back. “It’s time to move on, sweetie. We know Perry has.”
Jamie was right. All these months, I’d wondered if Perry had started seeing someone else even convincing myself that between the show and the press he was doing, he couldn’t possibly have the time to devote to another relationship. I’d been wrong. He was in a full-blown relationship with someone. Well, not just someone, Annabelle Ellicott. Any hopes of a reconciliation were dashed when I heard him call her “darling.”
I wandered back to my desk and pulled the large anthology on Elizabethan fashions from the Victoria and Albert Museum onto the drafting table. I grabbed a package of sticky notes from our supply closet and marked any image that was remotely inspiring. An hour later, with more than half the book tabbed, Jordana tapped me on the shoulder to ask if I wanted to prep for my appearance on Top Designer.
Jordana Singer had been my co-counselor and most trusted ally when I worked at Camp Chinooka. We kept in touch while she was in college, and she’d spent the last three summers and every semester break interning for G. Malone. She helped us build our social media platform, and when she graduated from Brown, Jamie and I hired her. Recently, we’d named her as Global Director of Brand Events. Our investors and advisory board thought we were crazy for promoting someone with so little experience, but her work ethic and commitment to building the company quickly made her invaluable. She lived and breathed G. Malone. So much so, I sometimes worried about the toll it was taking on her personal life.
It’d been Jordana’s brainchild to reach out to the producers of Top Designer to see if they’d be interested in Jamie and me coming back to guest judge an episode. They jumped at the idea. As runner-up of the very first season, now running a successful design brand of my own, they thought my story would prove inspirational to the current contestants. It was also a great reminder to the audience that the show was really a launching pad to future success. Jordana was in favor of anything that would give G. Malone more national exposure and had fought for us to be on a two-episode arc.
Jordana had received a packet from production on the contestant challenge and my role as both mentor and judge. She said she wanted to go over the details, but I knew her real agenda was to coach me on ways I could insert the G. Malone brand into the episode. Although I’d agreed to go on the show, I was having second thoughts about my appearance. Being a contestant on Top Designer had provided me with some amazing opportunities, but it also thrust me into a limelight I hadn’t been ready for.
Part of the first wave of successful reality shows, Top Designer scored record-breaking ratings for its first three episodes. Immediately following the premiere, my phone was ringing with calls from magazines, newspapers, and entertainment shows for interviews. I was young and inexperienced in dealing with press and ended up putting my foot in my mouth more times than I cared to remember. The spotlight got too big and too hot, and I choked. I was the projected favorite to win, and when it came time to put together that final collection, I froze. I went from having too many ideas to virtually none. At the final hour, I pieced together a runway show, but it was a poor comparison to most of the looks I’d created throughout the season. Kharen Chen was declared Top Designer, and the next day, I fell into obscurity.
A few weeks later, I got a call from Diane von Furstenberg’s VP of Design asking me to join their team. Diane had served as one of the panel judges on several episodes and thought my aesthetic would work well in her brand. It was a fantastic opportunity that I completely took for granted. I was fired in less than a year.
I worried going back to the show would stir up all those feelings of insecurity and self-doubt. Ironically, when Jordana proposed the opportunity, Jamie had jumped at the idea he might get a chance to redeem himself on national television. This many years and successes later, he was still most famous for getting kicked off Top Designer because he couldn’t construct a wedding dress out of toilet paper. It haunted him.
Jordana and I walked a few blocks over to our favorite food cart. We ordered two falafels and sat down on a nearby bench. Between bites, she gave me a rundown on the season’s contestants. She pulled the episode challenge abstract out of a folder and handed it to me.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said after I’d skimmed through.
Jordana wiped some tahini sauce off her chin with the back of her hand. “What?”
“They’re recreating the Code Wed challenge?”
“Okay, so I know Jamie might not be thrilled, but think about how powerfully full circle it is. Yes, he got kicked off first, but now he’s back and he’s successful and none of it mattered. I mean, that’s a compelling story line. Also, think about the replay value and all the buzz this will create if you’re actually hired to design the most important wedding gown of the century. Talk about a twist of fate!”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure he’ll see it that way.”
She slid the abstract back into the portfolio. “I’ll get him to see it that way. So, how was London—tell me everything. Do you think we got the gig?” she said, referring to the Royal Wedding.
“I can’t believe you’ve managed to wait this long to ask me.”
“If it was good news or bad news you would’ve told me by now. I figured we’re still waiting to hear?”
The nondisclosure and confidentiality agreement allowed for Jamie and me to discuss the wedding with anyone from our company who we deemed needed to know. Jordana definitely fell into that category, but I wasn’t ready to let her in on the big news just yet. I wanted to hold onto our secret just a little bit longer while I was still working out the different looks. Once the news got out, too many people would try to influence the designs.
“Still waiting. We should hear something soon, though,” I said.
Jordana’s green eyes were sparkling with possibilities. “Can you imagine what it’ll mean to G. Malone if we’re the house that designs Victoria’s wedding dress?”
I took a long sip from my can of seltzer. “Pretty overwhelming to think about.”
“It’s pretty freakin’ amazing, and I can say that because I saw your humble beginnings firsthand.” Jordana wrapped up the last of her falafel and stuffed it into our makeshift trash bag.
“Ah, Camp Chinooka,” I said. “I always miss it this time of year. Right when the weather’s starting to warm up and you know summer’s around the corner.”
“Speaking of Chinooka…” she said, her voice trailing off. “You didn’t see Perry, did you?”
“We ran into each other. Verrry long story short, I found out he’s seeing someone new.”
She reached over and put her hand over mine. “You know, I’ve always rooted for you guys, right from that first night he carried you home from Rosie’s, but it may be for the best that you found out. Now you can hopefully close that chapter and start a new one.”
We packed up our stuff and went back to the office. I started to clear my table of all the clutter, and peeking out from underneath the Elizabethan anthology was the Arts Section of the Times. I took one last long look at Perry’s face on the cover and balled it up. I picked up my phone.
“You like Chinese food?” I asked Gideon after he picked up.
“Love it,” he replied.
“Good, I have the perfect place.”
“Want me to take care of the reservation?” he asked.
“Not necessary. It’s first-come, first-served.”
“Sounds like my kind of place. See you Friday.”
“See you Friday.”