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“Monsieur Lucien!” Omar Taylor welcomes in slightly accented English. “I was expecting you.” The couturier leans forward, dabs his cheek with mine, and then extends his greetings to my fiancée. “And Mademoiselle.”

“Merci, Omar. Comment allez-vous?”

“Je vais bien. Merci.”

“Ah, this is my fiancée, Alayna Hart.”

He looks fondly at Alayna and smiles. “What a lovely bride! You‘re gorgeous.”

Alayna smiles back. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor.”

He lightly touches the tip of her hair. “Just call me Omar. Come, come. Monsieur Katrakis called me this morning. Luckily, I am here in town. When he told me you are coming today, I cleared my schedule to show you my newest design.” He takes us further inside as he talks, walking past the showroom and his employees. He snaps his finger in the air, and two attendants swiftly shadow him.

After that, we head to another door leading to a spacious room that houses his designs and office.

“I could’ve made something else for you, but I’m afraid a designer needs more