“It’s Patrick, and yes, I did.” He walks over to a sideboard and shuffles through a few papers until he finds the documents he’s looking for. “I wanted to return these to you.”
“My sketches,” I say in a low tone.
With the craziness of the weekend, I’d forgotten they were in his possession. He places them in my hand, but they’re in much better shape than when he took them. Someone has taken the time to slip them into a folder with plastic sheet protectors.
He leans against the edge of the desk. “I showed them to the future Lady Renbrook and she wanted me to tell you... let me make sure I get this right.” He retrieves his mobile from his pocket and unlocks the screen. “You’re like a young Yves Saint Laurent. I’m also supposed to mention you have a wonderful eye for adding a modern twist to the classics.”
“Wow, she said that?”
Saint Laurent is well known today as one of the major fashion houses, but few people actually know that the man himself was discovered by Christian Dior. After Dior passed away, it was Saint Laurent, at the age of twenty-one, who was promoted to take over the Dior Maison. Having LordRenbrook’s fiancée compare me to a great man like that is one of the highest compliments a young designer can receive.
Returning his phone to his pocket, he nods. “She did. She spent quite a bit of time going through them with her best friend, Sonya. I think they left a Post-it note in there, but she wanted to see if you could put together a few sketches for her.”
My throat goes dry. Is Renbrook trying to tell me that his fiancée wants to commission me for a project? I snap open the folder and locate a pink Post-it note on the final page.
It’s written in large swirly letters that are a little difficult to decipher:
This is the aesthetic we’re after. Would you be able to put a wedding collection together? Looking for traditional and Chinese options for a bride and options for my bridesmaids.
I’m stunned. My jaw drops open. “She wants me to create designs to wear for your wedding?” I sputter.
“Only if it’s something you’d be interested in and have time for. Our wedding is in six months.”
This is the opportunity of a lifetime. I can’t turn something like this down. It’s not something you say no to. I just hope they understand who they’re asking and that six months isn’t very much time. The pre-Sam me would’ve been freaked out by all this, but the new me is as cool as a cucumber. I can handle this. I hope.
“Um, I’ve never done bridal work, but if your fiancée is willing to take a chance on me, I’d be honored.”
Lord Renbrook claps his hands together. “Brilliant. I’ll ring the ladies and let them know. Sonya will probably reach out to you later today and set up an appointment.They’ll be able to answer any questions you have. I’m just the groom. All I have to do is stand at the end of the aisle and say those two magic words—I do.”
He stares off into the distance for a moment, lost in his head. Lord Renbrook has the look of a star-crossed lover you might find in a rom-com. I could be speaking to him and he wouldn’t be able to process anything I’m saying. The depth of his love for the future Lady Renbrook is clear. I hope someday if I ever find the right guy, he reacts the same way when he thinks about me.
A moment later, he jerks. “Um, sorry about that.” He tugs at the neck of his shirt and sits down. “I, er, had something on my mind. I’ll let you get back to work.” I reach over, careful not to knock anything over, and we shake hands. It’s in that moment that he sees I’m a mess and says kindly, “Minerva, did you know you have something on...”
“Yes, sir. A horse sneezed on me on my way to work.”
“That’s happened to me a few times. I like to think it’s a sign of good luck.” Lord Renbrook chuckles. “Salt and baking soda are the best stain removers. The key is to let your clothing soak for a few hours.”
“I’ll have to remember that. Thank you, sir—Patrick.”
“You’re welcome.”
I see myself out and hope Mr. G has indeed managed to find a new shirt for me. I try not to let my mind wander too far. At this point, it’s only a verbal offer, but when it comes to weddings, the real person in charge is the bride. I hope Lord Renbrook’s fiancée isn’t one of those demandingbridezillas.
Later that afternoon,I receive a long-awaited text from Sam.
Sam
Sorry for getting back to you so late, Min. As you might’ve guessed by now. I’m not on ceremonial duty today. I’ll be back at HG middle of next week.
Min
No problem. I know you’re not ignoring me on purpose.
Sam
I never would. *Winking emoji* This is the first break I’ve had today.
Min
