Chapter 12: Another Excuse to See Her

At ten thirty the next morning, Rosalie arrives at JFK.

Aiden called her the night before and made her promise—repeatedly—that Uncle Julian would not have to land in New York and go to his hotel all alone.

So Rosalie went to bed before midnight for once and woke early enough to reach International Arrivals ahead of his flight.

She finds an empty massage chair, sits, and reaches for her card.

Before she can start it, her phone rings.

Henry Collins, Cole’s U.S. managing director, is calling. He is also overseeing the fashion house’s upcoming collaboration with TÉRA.

Rosalie checks the arrivals board. Julian’s flight has landed, but baggage claim will take a while.

She answers. “Henry?”

“Mira, I need a favor.” He hesitates. “How well do you know Adrian Mercer?”

The question catches her off guard.

Since the cemetery, Adrian has not contacted her, and she has not reached out to him.

They are in the same city, yet both behave as though the other has disappeared.

Rosalie has been too busy to dwell on it.

On June twentieth, TÉRA and Cole will present their joint runway show in New York, and she is responsible for every piece of jewelry.

The opening and finale sets are finished and secured in a Paris vault.

Shortly before the show, a specialist art-logistics firm will transport them under armed security. The remaining accessories are still being designed.

Lately, Rosalie sleeps a few hours during the day and sketches through the night.

“What does my relationship with Adrian have to do with the show?” she asks.

“We booked Riverton Arts Center months ago. The date and main hall are in the contract, but for the past two days, management has refused to approve our load-in plan. We’ve revised the stage weight, lighting rig, fire exits, and guest routes every time they asked.”

Henry pauses. “I went there myself this morning. They finally admitted the delay came from Mr. Mercer.”

Rosalie straightens. “What part of the plan does he object to?”

“None of it. The plan has cleared technical review.”

“Then what does he want?”

Silence answers her for a beat. Henry clearly did not expect her to speak about the head of Mercer Group with open irritation.

“The venue suggested that approval would move quickly if you spoke to Mr. Mercer personally.”

Rosalie closes her eyes.

Of course he did this.

If Adrian wants to see her, he can call. Why drag an entire production team into one of his ridiculous schemes?

They managed to stay away from each other for several days, and now he has found another way to make her come to him.

But Rosalie has already decided to end this. She cannot give Adrian what he wants.

“If Riverton won’t cooperate, we’ll change venues.”

“Changing now could postpone the show,” Henry says carefully. “There are other spaces large enough for a circular runway, but finding one open on our date is another matter. Even if we do, the stage, lighting, permits, and guest flow all have to be redesigned. Invitations are about to print.”

Rosalie says nothing.

Henry’s voice softens. “I wouldn’t ask if there were another option. We’ve spent more than six months on this. Cole has begun production, and TÉRA’s Paris atelier has invested months in your opening and finale pieces. If Riverton keeps stalling, we may not have a show.”

He does not add that anyone able to make Adrian Mercer cause this much trouble must matter to him enormously.

Henry would rather stay on her good side.

“Mr. Mercer will be at Riverton this afternoon for the second round of partnership talks on the New Jersey life sciences campus,” he continues. “There’s a private business dinner afterward.”He leaves the decision to her.

The arrivals board refreshes. Julian’s flight is now unloading baggage.

Rosalie stares at the update.

She does not want to see Adrian, but too many people have worked on this show.

Vivian and the Paris atelier should not lose months of work because of her private life.

“All right.”

Henry exhales. “Then the dinner tonight—”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’ll send you the details.”

Before Rosalie can hang up, a familiar figure appears beyond the arrival doors.

Julian Reed has dyed his hair a vivid red.

Black sunglasses cover half his face, and a long camel coat falls over a black shirt and loose trousers.

The overnight flight has left him tired, but his back remains straight.

Pushing his suitcase through the crowd, he makes the terminal look like a runway.

“Julian!”

He turns toward her.

“My friend just arrived,” Rosalie tells Henry. “Text me the time and place.”

She hangs up and hurries forward. “It’s been too long.”

“It has, Mira.”

Rosalie opens her arms, and Julian pulls her into a tight hug without hesitation.

He kisses one cheek, then the other, the greeting effortless after so many years in Paris.

His arms stay around her a moment longer than necessary.

“God, I missed you,” he murmurs.

Rosalie laughs and pats his back before stepping away.

Julian lets her go, his hand trailing briefly from her waist before returning to his suitcase handle.

“Tired? Did you book a hotel?” She reaches for his luggage.

He rolls it out of reach. “I can carry my own suitcase. I’m staying at the Aster.”

Rosalie smiles. “So am I. Come on, I’ll drive.”

They start toward the parking garage.

Her phone vibrates. Henry has sent the details.

Seven tonight. Private dining room, East Wing, Riverton Arts Center.

Julian notices the change in her expression. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Just work.”