I explained the post and Delia’s offer to come up with something else at the last minute.
Hudson rubbed my back. “It’s just a dress, baby. You’ll still look incredible.”
“It’s not just a dress,” I disagreed, my voice shaking. “The look was perfect for this movie. Bold. Different. Now I’m going to show up in something Delia throws together for me in a few days while everyone whispers about the leaked version. I don’tunderstand how this could’ve happened. We kept the circle tight, like always. I’ve never had something like this happen before.”
“Fucking bloodsuckers,” he bit out, shaking his head. “They’re relentless when it comes to shit like this.”
Suspicion started to form in the back of my mind. There was only one difference I could think of. “Maddie helped coordinate my schedule the week I had my second fitting with Delia about the dress. She had access to the shared calendar with the fitting notes.”
Hudson’s brow furrowed. “You don’t really think…”
“Can you really blame me for wondering?” I pulled away from him to get up and pace in front of the couch. “After the other stuff she accidentally messed up because she’s still adjusting to how things work around here, is it that hard to believe that she somehow managed to ruin my biggest red-carpet moment?”
He sat up straighter, shaking his head. “I just can’t see it. If she messed up this big, she would’ve said something.”
“Then call her,” I demanded. “Right now. On speaker. Let’s ask.”
Hudson hesitated, but he pulled out his phone and dialed. Maddie answered on the second ring, sounding cheerful.
“Hey, Hudson! What’s up?”
“Hey, Maddie.” His gaze darted to me, and he sighed. “Quick question, did you mention Serena’s red-carpet dress to anyone? The one she’s supposed to wear to the movie premiere this weekend?”
“Oh… um, maybe?” There was a tiny pause. “I ran into a fashion influencer the other day. She has a huge following and was asking about Serena’s upcoming looks. She seemed so excited. I might have mentioned the color and the designer. I thought it would be good publicity.”
Hudson tilted his head down to stare at the floor, while I swiveled on my heel and paced in the other direction before I did something I’d regret.
Maddie kept talking, oblivious to our reactions. “Did something happen? I was just trying to help hype her up. She’s always so stunning on the carpet.”
Hudson cleared his throat. “Yeah, the design leaked. She can’t wear it now.”
“Oh no.” Maddie sounded genuinely shocked. “I’m so sorry. I really thought it was harmless. You know me, I tend to overshare when I get excited, and I’ve followed this influencer’s account for years.”
I couldn’t listen anymore, not when she was minimizing what she’d done. There was no way the fashion influencer would’ve been able to make that rendering without all of the details. Delia’s name and the color wouldn’t have been enough for what was posted.
Turning away, I wrapped my arms around myself. Hudson ended the call quickly, promising to call her back later.
When he got up and walked over to me, his eyes were full of regret. “I’m so fucking sorry, Serena.”
Dropping my forehead against his chest, I mumbled, “Apologies don’t do me much good right now, unless they come with a stunning, custom-made gown.”
“I can make some calls,” he offered.
Straightening, I shook my head with a sniffle. “Delia will figure something out.”
“And you’ll look stunning, I’m sure.”
He reached for me, but I took a step back. “I need some space tonight. Maybe a couple of nights. I just need to breathe without wondering what’s going to get ‘accidentally’ ruined next.”
He looked like I’d slapped him, but he didn’t argue. “Okay. I get it. I’ll head back to Malibu. Text me when you’re ready?”
I nodded, too drained to say anything else. After he left, I locked the door and leaned against it, hoping the rest of my week went more smoothly.
Three nights later,my hopes were dashed. The red carpet was over, but the damage wasn’t.
I sat cross-legged on my bed, my face scrubbed, hair down, and dressed in a comfy sleep set. The movie premiere ended hours ago, but my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Avery was curled up beside me in her pajamas, her head on my shoulder, scrolling her own feed with the kind of protective fury only a sixteen-year-old could muster.
“Sis, this one’s brutal,” she muttered, tilting her screen toward me. “The leaked one looks fierce and sexy. What you wore tonight is safe and washed out in comparison. They’re calling it ‘corporate chic’ and saying you played it safe.”
