Epilogue - Natalie

EPILOGUE - NATALIE

I ’m wearing the dress. You know, the wisteria-print one with the chunky gold hardware on the shoulders. The one I’ve lusted over since Evan put the sample together.

I’m standing in the most beautiful ballroom at London’s Corinthia hotel. On every table, huge silver bowls overflow with vintage pink and white roses as the crystal chandeliers cast their dancing light overhead.

I’m surrounded by beautiful people. Famous people. Even Omar fucking Vega is here.

Everyone is seeking me out. Everyone is complimenting me on Gossamer’s new collection. Women who regularly grace the pages of Vogue are wearing our dresses.

It sounds like a dream. (Or a psychotic episode.)

It’s not.

It’s really happening.

This is the event that will officially launch Gossamer as a Wright Holdings brand to the great and good of the fashion industry while at the same time celebrating our new Spring/Summer collection .

My parents are here, of course. Stephen and Anna have just turned up. Winky and Adam had a frank—and highly emotional—catchup over a few beers in the new year, when Adam got his chance to apologise, face to face, man to man, and my brother finally got the closure he needed and deserved. I think it must have been a little deflating for him to know that there wasn’t any real villain in his story, after all, but he insists it’s better this way, that all that pent-up anger has really just disappeared.

Winky’s insane new prosthetic, otherwise known in the family as the Sci Fi Eye, has already saved the evening when I had a total blank on a familiar-looking blonde woman headed towards us. Turns out she was the editor of Vogue Germany . That face recognition technology is as useful as it is creepy. The prosthetic is bloody amazing looking, too. You’d really never know half of my brother’s vision is digitally generated.

Anyway, he and Adam are getting along as well as I could have hoped my brother would get on with any man I brought home, and he even entrusted us with Chloe for the day last month when he and Anna went to a foodie festival. Adam’s basement swimming pool was a big hit with the little water baby.

When Winky and Anna came for a tour, we kept the other basement room, with its newly arrived spanking bench, firmly locked.

I’ve horrified myself by how easily I’ve acclimatised to being lady of the manor. It’s shocking, really. And, given we got the Wright investment in Gossamer closed by the end of January, I’ve had two months of evenings with my boyfriend in his—our—palatial home. I’d like to say we’ve been rewatching Ted Lasso like he proposed, but usually we sit side by side at the kitchen island, glued to our laptops while Adam and Kamyl force-feed me pulses.

I’d like to say I miss Alchemy, but we’re in there most weeks. Saturday’s visit proved to be my introduction to the wonderful world of spreader bars.

Let’s just say I’m a convert.

Speaking of Alchemy, the entire crew is here tonight. Even Belle and Rafe, who welcomed their beautiful little baby daughter into the world as Adam and I were flying home from New York, have come out to support me. I’m chatting with Omar Vega—who’s bitchy as hell but actually hilarious when he likes you—when Gen approaches.

‘Who the fuck is that?’ Omar asks, his jaw practically on the floor. Given the crazily tight timeline between the deal closing and the launch of the new collection, we had to save the key pieces for the A-list celebrities who are in attendance—like Oscar-winning actor Elle Hart, who’s wafting around looking pregnant and stunning in one of our more ethereal gowns. Gen, therefore, is wearing oyster-coloured Valentino Haute Couture tonight.

‘My ex-boss,’ I inform him out of the corner of my mouth. ‘Genevieve Wolff. She runs Alchemy. Married to Anton Wolff.’

‘Ahh.’ He lets out a low, appreciative whistle. ‘It all makes sense. Look at that couture, darling. Look at those curves. I need to dress that woman.’

‘Get back in your crappy little demi-couture box,’ I tell him, but my tone is fond. Evan and I have begrudgingly back-tracked on our hatred of Vega. I’d hate to be the poor soul trying to manage him, but he’s been incredibly generous with his time and advice since I came on board.

‘Your ass must make men weep, darling,’ he proclaims as Gen sashays over .

She shoots him a vaguely surprised look before arching her brow. ‘It certainly does,’ she tells him.

He puts a hand to his heart and swoons dramatically. ‘I think I’m in love.’ With that, he takes his leave.

‘You look incredible,’ Gen tells me now, pulling me into a firm hug. ‘I’m so fucking proud, I can’t even tell you.’ She releases me. ‘Your boyfriend’s an embarrassment, though. He just wept openly when someone complimented him on your collection. Let’s hope he can pull it together for his speech.’

I laugh. ‘Oh my God. He’s been a mess all day.’

‘I love nothing more than seeing men championing their women,’ she says, ‘but he’s the real deal. I’m surprised he doesn’t have pompoms with him tonight.’

I put my hand to my heart. The way Adam has been there for me, day and night, over the past quarter is like nothing I could have imagined. He may be spending thousands on all these PR agencies for me, but I swear none of them have shouted Gossamer’s name—or mine—more loudly at any opportunity than he has.

‘He’s incredible,’ I agree.

‘He is. He’s also completely and utterly blown away by you, both emotionally and professionally. Just as he should be. How’s it going over at Wright?’

‘It’s amazing,’ I confess. ‘I always had it in my mind that if it wasn’t hard, I wasn’t doing it right, you know? Like I had to slog my guts out for every pound I made. But over there it’s effortless. Don’t get me wrong--I’m working my arse off. But it’s this strange new dynamic where I work hard and then good stuff happens. The work has a purpose, and it pays dividends. That’s one hell of a novelty.’

‘That’s precisely what it should be like,’ she says with a huge smile. ‘Also, if his team is anywhere near as smart and talented as him, hopefully there’s an amplifying effect. They can take the magic you’re creating and blow it up far more quickly than you could ever do on your own.’

‘Exactly.’ I take a sip of my sparkling elderflower drink. ‘These billionaires are so… fearless. They’re such big-picture thinkers. They’re not afraid of risk or big numbers or failing. It’s really inspiring. I’m learning so much.’

‘I bet you are,’ she says. ‘Uh oh—speak of the devil.’

I look over to find my man approaching. He’s in a Tom Ford smoking jacket tonight, and he looks positively edible. He definitely looks a little teary-eyed, but his smile is so wide it could crack open his face. He comes around behind me so he can wrap his arms around my waist and bury his face in my neck.

‘The woman of the hour,’ he murmurs against my skin. ‘Are you having fun?’

‘I feel like I’m in a dream,’ I tell him and Gen, and he hugs me tighter.

‘I was just talking to Phoebe Dynevor,’ he says. ‘She wants an intro, and she said she’d like to put her stylist in touch with you, too.’

I stiffen in his arms. ‘Oh my God. Seriously? I’m the biggest Bridgerton fan ever.’

‘No one would ever dispute that,’ he says drily. ‘You’ve got to give your speech in a minute—I’ll introduce you two after that. Okay?’

‘Okay,’ I say, turning my face so I can nuzzle against him. When I glance back up, it’s Gen’s turn to look weepy.

‘Not you, too,’ I say laughingly.

‘I’m sorry.’ She dabs carefully under her eye with her knuckle. ‘It’s just—when I think about what you two were like when you first met. Jesus, it was awful. And look at how revoltingly loved-up you are now. ’

I giggle. ‘It was pretty rough. I’m sorry you got stuck in the middle.’

‘That meeting I had to host—it was like mediating bloody Cold War talks. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt so uncomfortable in my life.’

‘Luckily Nat found a way to break the ice that evening,’ Adam deadpans, and I slap the hand that’s on my stomach.

‘That’s so rude! I still can’t believe you let him kidnap me,’ I tell Gen.

‘Yeah, well, looks like your Stockholm Syndrome is still alive and well,’ she says, looking thoroughly unapologetic.

‘It really is,’ I tell her with a grin. ‘And what do you know? My beast turned out to be a total prince.’

Adam releases me. ‘Let’s get you up on that stage before my ego balloons completely.’

‘Knock ‘em dead, love,’ Gen tells me, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

Adam leads me over to the stage, his hand clasping mine tightly. I climb up and survey the beautiful room full of chic, dazzling people. Everyone here has given up their evening to toast my brand, and I’m humbled. I’m gobsmacked, really.

‘Thank you for being here tonight,’ he begins smoothly. I notice everyone in the room has quieted. They’re all looking at Adam, and who can blame them? His presence is blinding.

He starts to speak. ‘This evening, we’re celebrating the newest addition to the Wright Holdings luxury portfolio, demi-couture brand Gossamer. While their clothes encompass the very best of sustainable, timeless British style, it’s the creative brain behind the brand, Natalie Bennett, who we’re really celebrating.

‘Natalie is the most passionate, brave, resilient business leader I’ve had the good fortune to meet. I have the even greater fortune of calling her my girlfriend, but that’s a story for another evening. It’s her extraordinary vision and commitment to producing clothes that won’t cost the earth that will really shake things up at Wright. I know that, whatever she learns from us, we’ll learn more from her. She’s the very best human being I know, and I can’t wait to sit in the wings and watch as she takes her beautiful brand stratospheric. Please put your hands together for Natalie Bennett!’

When he turns towards me, the light of love and pride in his eyes takes my breath away far more than the thunder of applause and the roar of cheers. He brushes my cheek with his lips and whispers, ‘Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart,’ before standing aside.

I smile at my love, and I step up to the mic.

THE END