It had taken two weeks for her to find a job, and although it was poorly paid, it was something. Evelina made certain to be the first to arrive each day, often waiting on the cobbled street before the doors were even open, and she did all the menial tasks required of her, from dusting to scrubbing floors, being sent back and forth on errands, all the while dreaming about being one of the seamstresses measuring and tending to the women buying gowns.
She was working at Théo Devereaux’s, and although it wasn’t House of Chanel, it was a fashion house, and she wasn’t complaining. She learnt that he’d once been at the pinnacle of fashion in Paris, although now most of his clients were much older ladies who liked his more conservative style.
‘Where is Nathalie?’ came a panicked call through the back rooms.
Evelina stood a little straighter, taking a few steps away from the cupboard she’d been cleaning to listen to the commotion.
‘We have six dresses to be altered today and only two seamstresses,’ Théo muttered as he stalked into the room. ‘Six dresses!If she isn’t here in the next five minutes?—’
‘Excuse me, monsieur,’ Evelina said, clearing her throat and taking a few hesitant steps forward, her hands folded in front of her. ‘I can be of assistance.’
He looked down his nose at her, his glasses sliding lower as he studied her. He was at least fifteen or even twenty years her senior, with a head of thick dark hair peppered with grey.
‘Who are you?’
‘I’m Evelina Lavigne,’ she said. ‘I started here six weeks ago, and I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to show you my sewing skills.’
He laughed, and then his face turned sour. ‘You expect me to let you touch my garments?’
Evelina faltered, her voice catching in her throat.Tell him. Tell him why you can do this. ‘Monsieur, there is no one more careful than me,’ she said, surprised by the confidence in her own words. ‘If I make a mistake, I will forfeit all my pay. Please, let me show you how capable I am.’
‘Your pay would not cover the cost of one dress,’ he retorted, although she could see by the way his manner had calmed that he might be considering her proposal. He hadn’t yet turned away or told her to leave, which she was hoping was a good sign. Or perhaps he was beginning to realise that she might be the only additional seamstress available on short notice.
Evelina didn’t say anything else, just stood and waited for him to speak again. And when he did, she could barely stop the smile from coming to her lips.
‘I shall watch you do a hem first, and then a small alteration,’ he said. ‘If you make a mistake?—’
‘Merci, monsieur,’ she said, as sweetly as could be before he had time to continue. ‘I will not disappoint you.’
Evelina followed him into the room filled with sewing machines, two with women sat in front of them, their heads bent as they worked, garments piled beside them. She sat at the empty table and set the pieces of equipment around her where she liked them, sitting straight as Théo brought her the first dress. The clothes he designed were beautiful, and they came with a price tag that would have made her mother’s eyes water. She knew what a privilege it was that he was entrusting her with even one alteration.
She didn’t have any inclination to be nervous, not when it came to the one thing she knew she could do well, but it was difficult with him standing over her. Sewing was like breathing to her, and as she listened to his instructions and felt the fabric beneath her fingers, she felt as if she’d come home. To the place she belonged; to the place she was supposed to be.
Only this time, she wouldn’t let anyone tell her to leave.
‘Mademoiselle Evelina,’ Théo said, his arms folded as he looked down at her, his face softening as she looked up. There was something about the way he was watching her, the way his eyes had widened, that suddenly made her nervous. ‘You have done the one thing that few people have ever achieved.’
She lifted her eyebrows in surprise, not certain she knew what he was referring to.
‘You have impressed me,’ he said, shaking his head and giving her the barest glimpse of a smile. ‘Well done.’
When he turned to leave, she lifted the fabric again and set to work. She intended on impressing him so many times that he couldn’t help but make her new position permanent.
10
PRESENT DAY
Blake lowered her window as the taxi moved slowly through the traffic in Paris. She took in the beautiful old buildings and cobbled streets, smiling as they passed an ornate fountain and wondering whether she should have got her phone out to take photographs. But as she went to reach into her handbag, she stopped herself. She wanted to see and experience everything, rather than worry about not recording every second of it and ending up watching the view from her phone. It was then that the Eiffel Tower came within sight, and she felt as if her heart had stopped. Seeing it with her own eyes was surreal, after so many years of catching glimpses of the landmark in French romcoms, and it was even more striking than she’d imagined.I’m actually in Paris. Tears filled her eyes as she lifted her face to the open window, the breeze catching her hair as she tried to absorb everything about the city she’d dreamed of so often.
She was heading straight to the hotel, which Deborah’s assistant had booked for her, and she intended on checking in, leaving her things and heading straight out to try to track down this Henri Toussaint. Deborah had insisted on having everything organised for her when she’d heard that Blake had never beento Paris before, which was why she was now pulling up outside a hotel that looked like it would be very much outside her budget.
Blake was about to ask if it was the correct address, when she saw the awning with Hôtel Providence Paris printed in white and gold lettering. The building was only five or six storeys high—much smaller than she’d expected—which only made her more concerned about the nightly rate, even if work was paying for it. She hoped that the accounts department didn’t decide it was too extravagant once they saw the bill.
‘Thank you,’ she said to the taxi driver as she stepped out onto the pavement. ‘Merci,’ she corrected when he got out to retrieve her bag and flashed her a smile.
She stood and looked around, her heart skipping a beat as it sank in.I’m in Paris. This is really happening.I’m here.
Blake closed her fingers around the handle of her suitcase and headed for the entrance, pleased to see there was a café on the ground floor. She had every intention of commandeering one of the outdoor seats in the morning and sipping coffee as she watched the world go by, admiring all the handsome Frenchmen and the women in their chic outfits.
