Chapter Thirteen

Bianca

Woah. Putting my phone on do not disturb had obviously been the wrong move. What the heck could have happened last night that would provoke my sisters to blow up the group chat?

I took my pink sleep mask off altogether, placing it on the mattress next to me, closed lashes graphic facing up. All the while, I scrolled up in our chat to catch up, which was easier said than done. I mean, if printed, these texts would have probably accumulated to several pages.

Allegra: Bianca Morelli, what did you do?

Yikes, the use of my full name was never good.

Allegra: Dad is having a coronary. He just called me and was yelling in Italian.

Perla: He called you, too?

Maria: Great, so he called all of us.

Perla: I haven’t seen Dad this angry in a long time.

Maria: Leave it to Bibi to make him say a string of about ten curse words in Italian.

Allegra: He only curses in Italian when one of us *ahem, Bibi* does something real bad. And I hate to say this, Bibi, but you poked the bear.

Perla: Bibi? Are you even there?

Maria: The time difference, Perla.

Perla: Oh, right.

Allegra: I can’t believe she’s been holding out on us. I, for one, am very disappointed.

Maria: I’m sure she was going to tell us.

Perla: I still don’t see why Dad is forbidding it. What’s so bad about Knox? I remember him. He was a cutie.

Allegra: Um, you’re married.

Perla: I’m going off memory here. Chill. I never said I’d leave my husband for him.

Allegra: I’m sure Frankie would be happy to hear that.

Perla: Please, he’s sitting next to me reading our text messages. Besides, he already knows he’s it for me.

Maria: You two are sickeningly sweet.

Allegra: You’re one to talk. Need I say his name?

Perla: Ugh, she’s right. I’m so sick of pretending like this whole Dom and Maria thing isn’t a thing.

Maria: Woah, who’s pretending? It isn’t. Dom and I are not a thing. Plus, we’re talking about Knox and Bibi. So on that topic, I’m sure Dad has his reasons.

Allegra: What a Maria response. Dad is overbearing. Especially when it comes to his favorite daughter, and this time is no different.

Perla: All right, Bibi. Get up. I want to hear it from you. What’s going on with you and Knox anyway?

Perla: For what it’s worth, Frankie says if it’s forbidden (which it so obviously is, thank you, Dad), then you should go for it with him. He thinks it makes it hotter. So do I, actually.

Perla: Oh, he wants to make sure it’s clear he’s trying to be a supportive brother-in-law. *eye roll*

Allegra: So she should, what? Just have one good romp in the hay with Mr. Sexypants and then forget about him?

Maria: She does with every other guy she’s been with. Maybe they’re onto something, Bibi.

Allegra: Ouch! On that note, I’m exiting this conversation. Bibi, you better text when you’re awake.

Perla: We’re going, too.

When I finally reached the end of the texts, I brought my feet up to me, pulling my knees to my throat. They weren’t wrong. I mean, it was all valid. And I didn’t care to get too close to men. I wasn’t afraid of commitment, but I had never met anyone I’d seriously considered committing myself to. Then, after losing Mom and seeing the way Dad was so sad about it; how we were all barely putting the broken pieces of ourselves back together; how we were trying to figure out who we were without her. . . . I decided anything serious wasn’t worth it. The fear of loss was just too great.

That was why I commended Perla. She wasn’t afraid of losing Frankie. She enjoyed what time they did have together, instead of dwelling on when it all might end.

Finally, I texted back.

Bianca: Maria has a point there, but it’s different with Knox. For the first time, I actually want to be with this man, and not just in the physical sense. Yes, sex with him would be explosive, I already know it. But we could have more.

Bianca: And I think I want that. . . .

Bianca: Is that nuts?

Allegra: Yes! Yes! Yes! I knew it!

Maria: All right, what’s the problem with you people? Don’t you know how to give this chat a break?

Allegra: Nope. Listen, you missed it, but Bibi likes likes Knox.

Maria: Meaning?

Bianca: I want to give this a real chance and see where it goes.

Bianca: Only thing is, I think I’m in the beginning stages of a love triangle.

Allegra: Oooh, like in soap operas?

Maria: Yeah, or that vampire movie.

Allegra: Oh, the one where you were Team Jacob all the way?

Bianca: I was Team Edward.

Allegra: I’m just saying, it’s obvious Maria likes the friends to lovers trope.

Bianca: LOL! Okay, so to give you the scoop—Knox’s ex, Rina, is at fashion week and she’s changed. A LOT. But you should’ve seen the way she looked at Knox when the three of us were at dinner. Oh, and then right before Knox and I were about to kiss, in came Rina, knocking on his door and interrupting us.

Allegra: Wait, back it up! You were going to kiss?

Maria: But it never happened? Wow, was Rina there knocking on the door to knock something else with him? *boots emoji*

Perla: Okay, I’m late to the party, but, Maria, did you just make a knocking boots joke because, boy, if you did, I missed a lot.

Allegra: Bibi thinks she’s in a love triangle.

Maria: And I’m Team Bianca on this one.

Bianca: You guys, I don’t even know if we need to start making teams yet. I have to talk to Knox, but I’m hoping he told her to get lost last night and that’s the end of that.

Maria: What if it is a love triangle, though? What if Rina doesn’t go away? Or what if Knox doesn’t want her to?

Allegra: Then we’re going to kick his butt. No matter how fine it is.

Bianca: No! Then I’m going to give this my best shot. I won’t let him go again. It was a mistake before and I don’t make the same mistake twice.

Maria: Joey Conti. Joey Barone. Billy Davies. Mark Fischer. Peter from high school.

Bianca: Anymore!

Perla: Look at you, Bibi. I’m so proud of you. Not long ago you were telling me how you didn’t know how I could love Frankie without stressing about losing him, and now you’re willing to put yourself out there, knowing you could lose Knox.

Allegra: Perla! Why would you say that?

Bianca: It’s fine, really. It’s not like I hadn’t thought of it myself. But I’m willing to let go of my fear of loss for Knox. He’s worth it, I just know he is. I really care about this man. I wished we’d been more than friends last time, and this is our second chance. I’m taking it.

Allegra: You go, girl!

Perla: I’m rooting for you.

Maria: Yeah, but if he breaks your heart, you know we’ll go all sister on him.

Bianca: Thanks, guys, you’re the best!

Sorry, Daddy, but this is my life, and I’m going to live it how I want.

* * *

Another line, another presentation.

Slipping my phone back in my bag, I looked around. There were so many faces, some I’d seen before and others—

“Bianca Morelli, are you following me?” someone ahead of me in queue asked.

Smiling, I looked at her. She was familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on who she was. “I’m sorry, but I can’t remember your name,” I admitted. I saw so many people, especially at these events it was a wonder I could remember my own name at the end of them.

The woman laughed and slipped her phone in the pocket of her oversized coat. “Charmaine. We sat next to each other in New York at the Leffler show.”

I nodded. “That’s right. Yes, Charmaine. Sorry, I don’t have a great memory for names. How are you?”

“Good, getting content as usual. If we ever get in.”

Chuckling, I nodded.

Charmaine was a wildly popular content creator, making her an influencer, but she was still very green when it came to these events. But, for designers, it was paramount to have influencers post about their designs. Which was why in recent years we’d seen more and more of them at fashion weeks.

Then she asked, “Why are the lines so long in London?”

“That’s the way it is at LFW,” I said, shifting my weight to my other leg. Meanwhile, the group behind me had decided to sit on the ground—not a bad idea. “At least it’s not a chaotic mess like at NYFW.” In New York, lines were never really respected and often people just slipped in, even without an invite.

“Hey, are you going to Stefan Becker’s catwalk?” she asked, switching gears on me. Before I could answer, though, she slapped her head and added, “Never mind, you’re with the magazine. Of course you’re going.”

“Yes, I am going,” I confirmed. Not to sound too obnoxious, but you didn’t host a catwalk and not invite us. I already knew I’d be sitting front row with the other top fashion magazines. “You?” I returned.

Shaking her head, she pouted. “No. How I wish I were, though. I tried to get myself an invite, but that team doesn’t mess around. They said they already had extended all their influencer invites by the time I reached out.”

“Maybe next time, then, now that they know about you.” Sadly, what she said was true—until you became known to them, they didn’t give you a second thought. It appeared that was the case with Charmaine, although I couldn’t imagine who they did invite, if not her. Knowing her name now, her social handle came to me, and I remembered she was a downright sensation on social media.

“Maybe,” she repeated, then pointed a finger and spun to face the front again. “Hey, look, things are moving.”

Karoline Atelier “Stolen Moments” Collection

Known for their intricate lace detailing, Karoline Atelier unveils this season’s showstoppers inspired by Karoline’s start in fashion, designing lingerie. Karoline Atelier “Stolen Moments” Spring/Summer collection is daring and intimate. It evokes comfort and sex appeal, bringing the bedroom to the outside world.

Picture off-the-shoulder necklines that accentuate the collarbone and shoulders in such a way that highlights the allure and grace of the human form. Each design has a touch of ethereal beauty, featuring delicate lace appliqués, printed silks, shimmering sequins, and relaxed silhouettes that welcome the wearer to fancy them at any time of day.

With its effortless sophistication, this collection packs a punch with its versatility and reminder that a Karoline Atelier wearer doesn’t need to meet expectations; they need to shatter them.

* * *

“Karoline!” I greeted, going in for a hug after a magnificent presentation.

You see, to the world, she was Karoline Jerrard, fashion designer, inspiration to women everywhere, and untouchable. To me, though, she was just Karoline, close family friend who’d known me since I was in diapers.

She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before the hug ended. “Bianca, dear, I’m so ecstatic you could make it.”

Karoline was always one of the most elegant and sophisticated women I knew. Honestly, I looked up to women like her. She had a fierceness about her that made me want to be her and a sweetness to her that made me want to be around her. You know the mother in the movie where the twin sisters went to camp together only to find out they were, in fact, twins? Well, Karoline looked like her. She had dirty blonde hair and bangs that fell just above her eyebrows. Her eyes were blue, although between you and me, they were brown. Thank you, colored contact lenses. And at seventy years young, she didn’t look a day over fifty.

I smiled and placed my clutch beneath my arm. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” I gestured with my hands as I spoke. “This, Karoline, was absolutely beautiful. Exquisite, really. Your collection spoke to me.”

She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth as she shook her head and brushed off my comment.

“Mom always did say you never took well to compliments.”

She gave me a sympathetic look before frowning. “She was right, I don’t. Although, she always did tell me to get over that because, as I remember her putting it, ‘the bigger you get, the more people are going to compliment you, and you’re just going to need to get over that.’”

I chuckled and crossed my arms, the bangles on my wrists hitting one another and jingling. “She wasn’t wrong.”

“Not that I don’t love chatting with you, but this is fashion week”—she gestured around us—“and you’re here on official business.”

I nodded. The good news was that Karoline wasn’t new to this. She knew what publications were after and offering—paid press opportunities. Some designers were more than happy to discuss it with you, while others cared more about what you could do for them at no cost. Those went down the roundup road, whereas Karoline was too big a designer to settle for being lumped into a trends report along with a slew of other designers. To boot, there was no guarantee the designer would wind up on the top or the bottom of the list, which meant less exposure for the brand. That was the last thing Karoline deserved.

“You’re right,” I acknowledged and admitted, “I do have a proposal for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“One of our upcoming issues is putting the focus on vintage-inspired looks. Your lace detailing is exactly what that calls for. We’d like our female model to wear one of your designs on the cover.”

Nodding, she was sure of herself as she said, “Done.”

“We’ll do an exclusive interview with you on the inside. I’m thinking a two-page spread in the centerfold. It’ll get the most attention from our readers, and what better collection to do it with than this one? You’re celebrating twenty-five years. That’s a big deal. We can highlight where you came from as a lingerie designer and how, still to this day, you’re daring your wearers to embrace their bodies.” I raised my hands up and stretched them wide as though making a banner in the air. “I can see it now,” I said, as I moved my hands for emphasis, “ Karoline Atelier: Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow .”

Her eyes widened and lit up like lights on a Christmas tree. “I love it!” She rubbed her hands together. “You’ve sold me, Bianca.” Pointing at me, she added, “They made the right call when they sent you here. Everyone at Bellissima is fabulous, but you have a real head for advertising.”

I repeated her words in my head. How could I not? I had “a real head for advertising.” That was a good thing. I knew it was. And, not to sound conceited, but I’d been doing this for so long, I knew I was great at it. I just wished I was known for more than that, you know? Like my own designs.

Bianca Morelli Breaks into the Fashion World, What’s Next for this Young Lady?

But that was silly, right?

I shook my head. No one had ever even seen my designs. Yeah, I was being delusional. “Thank you,” I answered simply. “That means a lot.”

“It’s true,” she replied and checked the time. “Now I have to go, but don’t be a stranger, okay?”

I watched as she started walking away. She turned on her heel, though, and snapped a finger. “Oh, and email my team that invoice. I want to get the ball rolling on this as soon as possible.”

“You got it,” I called after her.

You have a real head for advertising. Something told me those words would play on repeat for longer than I wanted, no matter how hard I tried not to let them. Even if they were nice words.

A noise from my phone got my attention as I started walking out of the building.

Knox: Busy?

Bianca: Not now. My next event is Stefan’s catwalk later today.

Knox: Good, so meet me at that in-house sustainable restaurant I told you about.

Bianca: Now? I don’t know, Knox. I was just going to head back to the hotel.

Knox: Don’t you dare. You need to eat.

Bianca: How do you know I haven’t eaten already?

Knox: Have you?

Bianca: Yes.

Knox: Bull.

Bianca: Fine, I haven’t, but I’ve got a lot of work to do.

Knox: It can wait. Meet me at the restaurant.

I had to say, this demanding side of Knox was sort of sexy.

I got in the car and told my driver where I was going.

Geez, even with the minimal amount of walking I was doing, my feet were killing me. Although, the heels I’d chosen to wear probably weren’t helping. I should’ve worn ballet flats, but with the cute outfit I’d chosen, they just wouldn’t work. What a mistake that was.

I leaned over and took my heels off, setting my feet free for a minute.

If my feet could have talked, they would’ve been saying, thank you, Bianca, for allowing us to breathe . Well, that, or girl, you’re the worst; if we could run away from you, we would . Yeah, it was probably the latter.

Oooh, that actually gives me an idea for a shoe design. When I sketched, I mainly focused on wedding dresses, but if anyone’s feet were going to hurt, it would’ve been a bride’s, right?

I took out my phone and wrote a quick note about my idea for later.

As I put my phone back in my purse, I thought about what Karoline said again. So maybe I did kick butt when it came to advertising, and I was proud of that. But one day. . . maybe. . . I’d be told I rocked for another reason—because of my designs.

I shook my head. Yeah, right. I was a Morelli, so I had connections, but that didn’t mean I had talent. Sketching in my sketchbook was one thing, and sure, I thought some of them were good, but would the world? Doubtful.

That was why I was in advertising.

And probably would be until the day I died.

Go me!