He knows what's at stake for me.
An impatient grunt escapes his lips, and then he leans over the desk toward me. "Why should I trust you?"
That question is justified. Back in New York, I hurt him deeply, and that wound will never heal. "I've learned from my mistake. I won't do anything that could harm the company—or you."
He studies me for seconds.
"Please, Kahlo."
He puckers his lips, then exhales forcefully. "Fine, we'll discuss it. But if we disagree, I have the final say," he continues with a threatening tone.
I should say no now. Because Father would surely jump up in anger and remind Kahlo that he has done a lot forTouch av lyx, butTouch av lyxhas done just as much for him. And that Kahlo isonlya designer, not the boss.
"Okay," I say nonetheless, because I see it differently. Only if I make concessions too, we will reach our goal.
A mixture of surprise and satisfaction flits across his gaunt face.
"All right. Tell me how far you've gotten with the designs for the competition." That's why I came here. It's mid-January, and in four weeks at the latest, we need to submit our design, and I have no idea if Kahlo has even started yet.
For a moment, he hesitates. "You better not disappoint me," he says, then stands up and signals for me to follow him. He stops in front of a magnetic board on the opposite wall. "Take a look."
So he has already given it some thought. That's a good sign. It means he supports the idea. And if he endorses it, Father will approve too. The two of them always see eye to eye.
I study the three sketches hanging among all the pictures of Hollywood stars at Oscar ceremonies that seem to inspire him. The first dress is extremely plain, the second is overloaded with pearls, and the third looks like it would only look good on Queen Silvia.
"Mm-hmm," I say thoughtfully because I'm not sure how to react to the designs. Should I tell him that, in my opinion, the perfect design isn't among these yet? Kjell would do it. Most likely.
But is it the right thing to do? Would it be too much truth all at once?
"I'm still working on it," he says, putting his hands in his pockets and standing with his legs apart. "These are just initial ideas."
I strain to find an element I can admire, but I can't find one. So I let my gaze wander over the Hollywood stars, and soon the gathering of a dress catches my attention. "This one is nice, don't you think?" I tap on the detail.
He grunts, half agreeing, half grumbling. He doesn't like me making suggestions, but he seems to like the gathering as well.
I feel a smile spreading across my face because his somewhat mild reaction is the next sign that we might actually be at the beginning of a shared journey. I shouldn't ruin that by putting pressure on him. Nobody can work well under pressure, and if anyone knows that, it's me.
"Nice," I say, turning to him with a radiant smile. "I'm looking forward to what you'll create. I'm sure it will be fantastic."
He didn't expect that, I can tell by his wide-eyed expression. His lips move, but he can't find the words.
"Would you let me know when you have something to show?" I ask in a friendly manner, and at that moment, I realize that I'm no longer nervous. I just speak my mind without weighing whether it's right or wrong.
A warm feeling washes over me, and it becomes even warmer when Kahlo answers my question with a nod.
"Thank you," I say and turn to leave. "Have a nice day."
"Yeah... um... you too," he stammers in farewell.
I give him one last smile and exit his studio. The door closes behind me, and I suppress a shout of joy. I dance down the hallway, feeling as light and free as I have in a long time.
This is going to be good. I can feel it. Kahlo and I are takingTouch av lyxto the next level. We're bringing the label to Hollywood.
Father will be thrilled! If only he would wake up already. His coma has lasted way too long. Still, I refuse to give up hope that it could happen any day now.
During my visits, I tell him everything. Sometimes he's gruff, but most of the time, I persuade him to set aside his grumbling and give my ideas a chance. Then he smiles in my imagination, places his hand on my shoulder, and nods proudly.
I almost tear up as I imagine that he might actually do that one day—maybe very soon. Everything will be alright between us. We can start anew and achieve great things together for the label.
