Chapter 477
Chapter 477:
As Fabrizio took a sharp turn, I snapped a photo of the Parisian street flickering past, then fired it off to Ashton.
He responded in seconds.
Ashton: Nice view out there.
Ashton: That window’s tinted. Looks aftermarket. That’s not a taxi. Whose car are you in?
Me: Fabrizio’s. He’s giving me a lift to Valmont’s headquarters.
Ashton: Stay away from him.
The barrage of exclamation marks made my eye twitch.
Me: He’s just giving me a ride. Stop freaking out.
Ashton: If he were just a colleague, he wouldn’t be chauffeuring you around.
Me: He said it was on his way. Chill.
The car lurched to a stop at a red light. Fabrizio glanced across.
“Who’s got you grinning at your phone p>
I touched my face, surprised to realize I’d been smiling.
“I was texting Ashton. He’s not exactly thrilled about me coming to France by myself p>
“Ah.” Fabrizio’s mouth curved in a lopsided smile. “You and Mr. Laurent seem close. When we met in Sunset City, you weren’t anything like the gossip online made you out to be p>
I shrugged. “People talk nonsense. I just ignore it p>
The traffic light flicked green, but we immediately slowed again at the next junction. If Paris traffic kept up like this, I could’ve beaten the car on foot.
“I’ve worked non-stop p>
“Since I was twenty,” Fabrizio said suddenly. “Now I’m thirty-six, and I’ve never had a real relationship. Seeing you and Ashton together makes me wonder what I missed p>
Mₒᵣₑ ᵤₚdₐₜₑₛ ᵢₙ
I glanced over. Where had this sudden honesty come from?
He noticed my surprise and gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. “It wasn’t easy, building all this. I put everything into work. Maybe if this launch goes well, I’ll finally get a breather p>
“It’ll go well,” I said, hoping my voice sounded reassuring.
He shot me a half-smile. “With your help, I’m sure of it p>
“You flatter me p>
“It’s not flattery. It’s fact. I’ve seen your entries for The Aureate Awards p>
I winced reflexively. That competition was a double-edged sword—it brought me fame and more orders than I ever wanted, but also no end of controversy. I still didn’t know who’d paid Dr. Aliénor Dubois to try and sink me.
“Your designs are truly unique and unforgettable,” Fabrizio pressed on. “Your studio might be the new kid on the block, but you’re making waves. I wondered if we could join forces p>
“Join forces how?” My mind snapped back from old injuries.
“You’ve got talent. I’ve got history and reach. If we combined them, this new line could smash the market p>
“By ‘combine,’ do you mean p>
“A joint venture. Both of us with a stake.” That stopped me. I’d boarded a plane expecting freelance gig work, maybe a one-off collab—not to be discussing equity and a proper company, with both our names on the door.