Chapter 467
Chapter 467:
They were THE name.
A joint release with them would be everywhere—showrooms, magazine covers, airport displays, the works.
If it took off, I’d stop being that girl with a few decent commissions and finally become a name people actually said out loud.
I hadn’t even answered when Fabrizio sighed into the phone.
“I didn’t mean to talk shop on your day off, but we’ve got an autumn launch on the calendar, and none of the concepts my teams submitted are usable. We’re running out of time, and I still don’t have a clear direction. Miss Vance, let me send over the roughs. Just take a look p>
“Alright,” I said. “Send them p>
He’d just offered to show me their internal designs.
That was trust.
The second we hung up, files began landing in my inbox. I tapped the first one open, barely skimming the header. A voice behind me, low and hoarse, interrupted. “You hiding in the bathroom to flirt with someone p>
I turned.
Ashton was still half-buried in the sheets, lying exactly where I’d left him.
He sat up and ran a hand through his hair.
“Sounded like a man. Who was it p>
I walked back over.
“I didn’t want to wake you. It was Fabrizio Marchetti, CEO of Valmont & Cie. Work call p>
“Fabrizio Marchetti? That fossil? What the hell’s he calling you for at seven in the morning? Block him p>
“He’s not that old, and it’s not seven in the morning.” I gave him a flat look. “You think every man on the planet’s got a hard-on for me p>
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“You’re my wife. Seems like a logical assumption p>
I reached the edge of the bed.
His arm shot out from under the duvet and yanked me forward.
I lost my balance and landed right on top of him, the quilt bunched up between us.
“I’m married to the best woman alive. You expect me not to be paranoid p>
I smacked his chest. “You’re completely unhinged p>
“What did he want p>
“Wants to launch his autumn collection with me. Sounds serious. The profit split’s actually decent p>
“He’s trying to talk you into moving to France p>
“He’s not. Even if I go, I’m not relocating. You think it’s a bad idea p>
“Did you already say yes p>
“Not yet. But I want to.” I lifted my head and looked down at him. “Problem p>
He fell into a thoughtful silence.
Then he said, “If you want to go, go. It’s your work. I don’t have a say. You’re ridiculously talented. You deserve a bigger platform p>
He said all the right things, but they landed stiff and flat, like he was reciting lines from a script he didn’t believe in.
He pulled me in tighter.