Chapter three: Ahlia

Leah sat across from me, looking as regal as ever. She stirred her tea slowly, relaxed despite the tense atmosphere.

"He's decided on Mauritius", she said “For our honeymoon, that is. Burke said it's one of the best places to be in during winter”

"Good for you," I mumbled, forcing a fake smile onto my face.

Maintaining this facade of politeness when, really, all I wanted was to claw her eyes out. Eyes that looked so much like mine.

Leah and I had different mothers, but it was still uncanny how similar we looked. The only difference was that she wore her hair flat-ironed and sleek, while I preferred mine long, loose, and curly.

Leah and I also had vastly different styles. She had the polished, high-end style of a socialite, with statement pieces and sleek updos. In contrast, I had a more glamorous, eclectic style that bordered on racy. 

Dad said he liked her style better.

"Oh, and how's the little fashion house?" She asked 

“D'Orleans is doing well”, I replied wryly. “Thanks for asking”

 "Leena's house landed a really big client,” She said like she didn't hear me

“It's for the MET Gala. Everyone's talking about it," she added after a short pause.

Leah opened Leena's house the year I launched D'Orleans. I have studied fashion since I could form a thought, while all she knows is plucking outfits straight off the runway and having a stylist on hand to help her make a fashion statement.

"Congratulations," I replied. "Really, I am so happy for you"

I really wasn't.

“Thank you, Ahlia”, she said, smiling. Although there was. nothing friendly about that smile

“I spoke to Mom,” She said suddenly, with a knowing glint in her eye “She said you and Dylan broke up? Three years, right? And he still cheated?”

My heart clenched. I stopped stirring my drink, only now realising I had been mirroring her.

I called Jana last night because I wanted to speak to a mother figure, someone to console me.

I had expected Leah to find out, but not this soon. Not when my wounds were still so fresh.

Silly of me to think Jana could ever keep a secret from her biological daughter.

  "So sad," she pouted

  What she truly means is, I hope you're miserable

  "Well, not all of us can tolerate cheaters," I said, smiling.

 "You see," I continued, my smile widening as I noted the slight tightening of her lips. That has always been her tell whenever my words got to her. "Some of us have a sense of self-worth, and not everyone exchanges that self-worth for a ring and a huge house."

“Well, I think you would benefit from a little less self-worth”, she said “Maybe then you could finally make Dad proud”

“That reminds me”, she continued when I remained quiet, as I tend to do when the topic shifts to Dad. “He says you should come home for dinner next month”

“I'll have to check my calendar”

“I doubt you're that busy”. She chuckled “I heard things at D'Orleans have been a bit… slow”

"Slow or not, I actually have to run my business myself." I said, as I stood up from my seat and picked up my vintage fur coat “Running a business requires effort and time. Tell Mom I said hi”

I walked out of the restaurant.

I quickly hailed a cab, and I didn't exhale until I had settled into the back seat.

I was always left reeling after these meetings with Leah. We always know exactly where to cut to leave the deepest wounds. It's been 10 years, and I still don't understand what caused Leah to develop such intense hatred for me suddenly. I like to dismiss it as petty jealousy, but sometimes it feels like it goes beyond that. 

My phone lit up with a gentle chime, pulling me out of my thoughts.

It was a text from my assistant, Meredith.

YOU HAVE A MEETING TOMORROW AFTERNOON. BUT I NEED YOU TO GUESS WHO YOUR NEW POTENTIAL CLIENT IS.

I missed her message once, and she decided I was so unreliable that she had to shout at me through her texts.

 "There's no way you could ever miss a message written in all caps," she says.

“Who?" I typed back, indulging her.

"CARA PRESCOTT"

I froze, reading the message a few more times, to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

Cara Prescott was the eldest daughter of New York's wealthiest family. One of the most prominent faces in the New-York fashion scene. She was also Dominic's sister.

Landing her as a client could be exactly what I need to put D'Orleans on the fashion radar. This was my chance to prove to my father that being a designer isn't a phase. To Dylan that I don't need his money. It could show Leah that I was better at this game than she was. This had to be it.

The cab rolled to a stop in front of my apartment. I paid the driver and wasted no time in getting out. I hurried up the stairs to my apartment, and I was opening up my laptop before I had taken off my shoes and coat.

  ****

By the end of that day, I had gathered enough information about Cara Prescott that she almost felt like a friend.

My research suggested she was very familiar with D'Orleans. Very familiar.

In the last two months alone, she's worn two of our pieces. It didn't make the headlines because both were for very minor events. I didn't even know she wore my clothes. Of course, I didn't keep tabs on everyone who does.

In March, she wore a floor-length, gold gown covered in shimmering beads to a charity event. It was from my very first official collection. 

A few scrolls down, I found another picture of her at another event, smiling up at a dark-haired man. She was wearing a silk halter gown with a deep plunging V-neckline, adorned with soft floral embroidery. It was from our most recent collection.

Two pieces so far, and there could even be more.

She loved D'Orleans. With tomorrow's meeting, I had to make sure she continued.

I scrolled down further, until I stopped at a photo of her with her family. My eyes were instantly drawn to the man standing between her and her sister Hailee. Dominic.

Even through a camera lens, you couldn't escape the intensity of his gaze. That full mouth set in it's usual sardonic tilt. That ever-present knowing look in his gaze.

My breath caught as images of our night together flashed through my mind.

I slapped my laptop shut. My breathing sounded heavy in the stillness of my living room.

How could he have so much power over me? I barely knew the man, for God's sake.

Suddenly a thought passed through my mind.

Wouldn't working with Cara bring me in proximity to him? My heart clenched in fear.

It didn't matter. I wouldn't let this thing between Dominic and me sabotage this opportunity.

I could handle him.

And who knows. Maybe I wouldn't even have to meet him.