Liesl tilted her head. “Wanna hear what I think?”

“Probably not, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“I am.” She tucked her legs underneath her. “I think that it’s probably still too soon to figure out whether he’s going to fight for you or whether you even want him to.”

“I don’t want him fighting for me.” Except I sort of did.

She wagged a finger at me. “Uh-uh. Too soon.”

Maybe she was right. A myriad of emotions had enveloped me in the past week. Which of them would endure? In a month from now, which feeling would dominate? In a year? Betrayal? Pain? Or would it be love?

Liesl was right. It was too soon to know.

She reached her hand out to squeeze mine. “I’m proud of you though. You made it through this week. And through work last night. And you’re going to his sister’s thingamabob. And you only had one obsessive breakdown. I think you’ve done pretty good.”

It was amazing how she made just living sound like an accomplishment. Truthfully, it did feel like a success. A little bit of pride filled my chest.

But that ever-present ache didn’t go away. I bit my lip. “I miss him.”

Liesl leaned forward and kissed my hair. “I know. That might get worse before better.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

Mirabelle’s Boutique was crazed when I arrived, even though the event wasn’t due to start for more than another two hours. The place swarmed with florists and caterers and models and new employees. It took me a while to find anyone I knew in the crowd, but eventually I spotted Adam sampling—or stealing rather— a chocolate-covered strawberry from a Saran-wrapped food tray.

He paused to finish chewing. “Laynie, good to see you.”

He gave me a hug, which was a little weird since he’d never been affectionate with me.

“I’m so glad you’re here. Please, get Mira to stop running around, will you? She needs to sit and put her feet up. I swear to god, after today, if she doesn’t start taking it easy, I’m going to chain her to the bed.”

“That sounds a little personal,” I teased. “Where is she now?”

Adam directed me to the workroom in the back. There I found even more models, more employees, and Mira fussing over everyone.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed when she saw me. Though her expression and smile were bright, the bags under her eyes gave away her exhaustion. “I was afraid you’d bow out at the last minute.”

I’d been a little afraid of the same thing. “Nope. I’m here. Do you have time to give me a tour?” Maybe getting her distracted would keep her blood pressure from spiking while she worried about the details of the event. “Or would you prefer I get dressed first?” I wouldn’t want her stressing about that either.

“Get dressed first and then it’s on.”

The dress she’d chosen for me looked stunning with the alterations she’d had done. Looking at myself in the mirror of the dressing room, I couldn’t help but remember when I’d first tried it on. It was the day Stacy had sent me the video. That had been the beginning of the end, hadn’t it? If only I hadn’t let my curiosity get the better of me.

I shook my head, tossing the thought aside. Today, I wouldn’t be sad. It was Mira’s day, and I didn’t want to ruin it for her. Even though I had waterproof mascara on, crying didn’t go well with makeup.

Besides, I couldn’t wish for anything to be different. Sure, I’d been happy with Hudson, but it had been a lie. The truth would have come out eventually. Better now than later.

When I was dressed, I found Mira, this time seated in a chair as she yelled at people. Adam must have forced her to sit.

She jumped up when she saw me, though, her eyes wide. “Oh my god, you’re so beautiful! You are definitely going to be the finale. Dammit, I wish Hudson could see you.” She clapped her hand over her mouth before I could scold her. “Sorry. It slipped out. It’s going to take a while to get used to the new situation.”

“Yeah, I get that.” I was still adjusting myself.

She wrapped her arm around mine. “Let me show you my baby. Well, one of my babies.” The new addition was beautiful but simple. There was more space to display clothing, a few more dressing rooms, a bigger workroom for the staff and a small runway.

“The stage is where we’ll do today’s show. In the future it will be for private fashion selection,” Mira explained as we finished up. “Some of these rich bitches are too lazy to try on their own clothes so we have models hired to do it for them.”

I laughed. Mira was a Pierce—she was probably richer than any of her clients, and she was neither lazy nor a bitch. I could certainly see her mother being one of the women she was referring to, though.

“Speaking of Sophia,” I said, looking around the shop, “where is she? Isn’t she coming?”

“Um, no.” She bent to pick a piece of lint off my skirt. “I banned her along with Hudson.”

“What?” Not that I was disappointed about Sophia’s absence. With as out-of-control drunk as she’d been the last time I saw her in a public situation, it was probably a good idea she wasn’t here.

Mira straightened but kept her eyes down. “I took your advice. We staged an intervention.”

“Oh, my god, Mira!” I reached my hand out to touch her arm.

She slid my hand into hers instead. “It was hard, but Hudson and Chandler and Adam and even Dad were there. We all sat her down and told her she needed to get help.” She met my eyes and flashed a somewhat forced smile.

I squeezed her hand. “When did this happen?” And how is Hudson handling it?

“Last night. She didn’t want to hear it, of course. But when I told her she couldn’t be a part of my life anymore if she didn’t get help, then she agreed. She checked into a long-term facility upstate this morning. Hudson, Dad, and Chandler drove her out.”

“Wow.” My chest ached in a way that was different from the past several days. Instead of hurting because of Hudson, I hurt for him.

“You know, I’ve never seen my mother sober—she might still be a bitch. But at least I could trust her not to drop my baby.”

I pushed thoughts of Hudson out of my mind yet again and studied the beautiful woman in front of me. Though I was twenty-six to her twenty-four years of age, she struck me as the most genuine, mature person I knew. Such a contradiction to her brother. Such a contradiction to myself.

She blushed under my stare. “What?”

“I’m just really amazed by you. That’s hard to stand up like that for someone you love and today you have your event…how are you dealing with all of this?”

“Honestly, except for being tired, I feel really good.” It was her turn to squeeze my hand. “The only thing I’m worrying about now is you and my brother.”

I pulled my hand away from hers. “I’m miserable enough without the guilt trip, thanks.” I studied my shoes, afraid that any more show of emotion might wreck me.

“He told us what he did to you.”

My eyes flew back up to meet hers. “What?”

“During mom’s intervention. He said that if we had any hope of being a family, then we needed to face our flaws and own up to our mistakes. He went back to therapy this week, and I think his doctor encouraged him to be open with us. So he owned up to what he did to you.” Her expression grew serious and sad. “I’m sorry he did that to you, Laynie. Really sorry. I’m not going to defend him. But I will say that he is full of regret.”

“I’m…” My throat tightened. “Dammit, Mira, you’re making me cry.”

She grasped my upper arms. “Don’t cry! Then I’ll cry and that will be a disaster. No more serious talk, except to say I love you. Thank you for being here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

* * *

There was a little more to the modeling gig than standing and smiling. I also had to walk down the short runway, pose, and return. While the place seemed to be crawling with models, there were only seven of us in the show. We were able to run through it enough times in rehearsal that by the time the actual event started, I wasn’t so nervous that I couldn’t perform.

Frankly, I was happy for an emotion other than grief. I clung to it. Wrapped it around me like a blanket.

At two, the doors were opened and the event began. It wasn’t a big hurrah like the charity fashion show Sophia Pierce had hosted, but was elegant and important in its own way. Mira was a beautiful bird, floating around the room, talking to big name fashion designers and top clients that had been invited.

Then there was the press—they’d been limited to invitation only and were sequestered in an area near the stage, which made them less intimidating. I never got close enough to them to be hounded with their questions. If they wanted to know about me and Hudson, they’d have to ask him.

Would they even ask? When the next girl showed up on his arm in the limelight, would they ask what happened to that nightclub manager the same way they asked about Celia in front of me?

There were so many awful things about that scenario that I had to block it out with a glass of champagne.

At a quarter to three, I lined up with the other models along the horizontal length of the stage. This is where we stood while each person walked the runway. My placement as last in the show made me wish we were walking on from offstage instead of waiting there the whole time. It felt like hours that I had to stand still and smile while the other women walked and posed. Stacy described each item, crediting the designer and then explaining the individual alterations done by the boutique to make the outfit perfect for the wearer.