“Of course, I am, G. We’re totally rocking this look.” Her buoyant smile mirrors my daughter’s. “This was all Ana’s idea,” she boasts proudly.
“Oh, I have no doubt it was, sweetheart.” I scrub my hands across my burning cheeks. “You both look beautiful,” I add, because, truthfully, they do.
“Marcello designed these.” Ana looks over her shoulder and waves to Emilio. I should have known my daughter would have something custom designed, but…
“Marcello isn’t a designer.”
“He is now.” Ana clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, cheeky grin in place, as I pull out two barstools.
“We’re making a statement,” Emilee chimes in, accepting the frothy cocktail Emilio hands her—rainbow umbrella included.
I do a double take.
When the hell did we get rainbow umbrellas?
Both girls clink their glasses, bubbling with excitement. I pull out my phone and snap their picture.
“So, are you girls going to an after-party with Alex later, or coming back here?”
Emilee tucks the umbrella behind her ear and answers nonchalantly. “Dad said he’s not attending any parties, but Ana and I are going to persuade him to take us to at least one.”
“No offense, Dad,” Ana says, straw between her lips, eyes sparkling. “But we definitely don’t want to come back here. You’re not exactly the most fun to be around—especially when you’re working.”
“Neither is my dad,” Emilee huffs out.
“But your dad is sooo popular and knows all of the hot models…”
“My dad doesn’t even let me talk to boys,” Emilee adds. “He’s definitely not going to let me hang out with them.”
“Then hang out with the girls. Have you seen them? They’re totally just as hot as the guys!” Ana takes another sip of her drink, clearly comfortable with either gender.
“Alright, girls.” I interrupt their chit-chat, resting a hip against the bar. “Finish your drinks. Steven’s waiting out back. Emilee, your dad said to meet him backstage after the show. You’re only allowed to leave with him. I don’t want you wandering the city this late with so many people around.”
“Great. So that means we’ll be going home. The only time Dad went out and had fun was when I was in Spain. Remember, Ana? He was drunk off strawberries.”
“Oh yeah, I remember.” Ana giggles. “Dad? Care to elaborate?” Her eyes sparkle, sending over that challenge.
I swallow, forcing a laugh, and take a slow sip of my drink, hoping it will steady the heat in my cheeks.
“I have no idea what you two are talking about.”
7
ALEX
What a night.
I step onto the stage one last time as Marc and I close the show together, walking the runway side by side, taking a bow, and waving to the audience as New York Fashion Week draws to a close. Exhaustion hits me hard, but the thought of kicking off my shoes and letting my feet breathe keeps me moving forward.
Backstage, I shake Marc’s hand one final time before parting ways. He’s always a pleasure to work with, a genius of his craft—yet generous and grounded, somehow both larger-than-life and incredibly human. I make my way to my dressing room, exchanging smiles and nods as praise trickles my way.
Ana and Emilee, of course, had claimed front-row seats tonight. Seeing them there, dressed in their flamboyant glory during the standing ovation, I couldn’t help but grin wider than usual. Their energy is infectious, their pride unmistakable, and I shake my head at the sheer audacity of their style.
I pick up my phone from the makeup station. Alerts flash across the screen—social media has gone wild over the girls.Front pages, fan accounts, paparazzi shots—Ana and Emilee have gone viral. I can only imagine Elijah’s reaction.
Scrolling through my messages while I wait, most are after-party invitations. Only one stops me—a text from a private number, recently added then deleted.
I’m at Gravity.
