Rock Star's Daughter { A Blake Mcnarie Novel }

Chapter 29: The Catacombs Conversation

-Three Months Later-

"So this is it," I said, glancing at the photographs laid out before me.

There were over sixty designs. I had twenty dresses, dozens of shirts, pants, leggings, scarves, and bracelets all created. I'd taken photos of my work in models I'd borrowed from Monique, and I made a mock catalogue to give to the H&M executives. From my portfolio, they would purchase twenty-four looks. They were entertaining the idea of doing an additional ten looks as an online exclusive, but that was dependent on the quality of my work. If they loved my portfolio, I'd sell them more looks. If they hated it, they could terminate my contract. Sure, I didn't need the money, but I wanted the success. I wanted to know that girls everywhere were wearing the Beautiful collection form H&M. The name had been picked out by David, and I liked it so I kept it. He had made some offhanded comment about how the dresses were just as beautiful as I was, which was the kind of thing I'd gotten accustomed to hearing around David Darcy. But it clicked with me, what my collection was about. That was what my life's work was about. I wanted women to feel worthy, loved, and safe. I wanted them to feel beautiful. Plus, Beautiful by Blake did have a nice ring to it.

"Yes," David said. "This is a good collection, Blake. The board will love it."

"How do you know," I asked. "What if I fail?"

"Look at me Blake. Do I look good to you?"

"Ummmmm...."

I didn't know how to answer that. Honestly, David was gorgeous. Just because we were friends and comfortable didn't mean I wanted him to know that he looked like the sexiest thing I'd seen in a long time. We had a platonic relationship, and I was ok with it.

"I mean my clothes, Blake."

"Oh, yes," I said. "You dress impeccably."

"I know fashion, I get it," David said. "And I am secure enough in my masculinity to admit it. And when I say these designs are good, I am not trying to be sweet. I want to make money too. If you sucked, I would have told you by now."

"Ok," I said. "I guess it's time to face my fate."

"So, let's go to the meeting."

"Ok," I said. "But David, I need to cut loose later. I've been working nonstop and my fingers feel like dead weight on my hands from all the sewing."

"So what shall we do?"

"I don't know," I said. "We should go somewhere. Leave Paris for a while."

"You're tired of Paris." David said in a monotone voice. "I never thought I'd see the day."

"There are always these couples and people kissing," I said. "I think I am allergic to that right now."

"Uh huh," David said.

He'd heard this speech before. I was focusing on becoming a strong independent woman. Meanwhile, every week Brady was photographed with a new supermodel. God, how he'd changed after he got famous. Of course, maybe the tabloids were making something out of nothing. But fifteen models is a lot to be photographed with in a month. The tabloids could only lie so much before they hit the truth. Brady Smith was rebounding in style, clearly.

"So, no romance," David said. "I know just the place to take you. But it is in the city."

"Ok," I said. "I will look forward to it. Success or failure, either way, we'll celebrate."

"It's a date," David said.

I tried not to freak out over his words. We ate dinner together whenever he was in Paris. We hung out and texted constantly. David and I were friends, and if he said it was date, that didn't mean anything. Even if you want it to mean somethinh, my subconscious thought. But I didn't want it to mean something. I wasn't ready to meet someone. I needed time, and I needed to focus. I was about to start my career any second now. It was my time to focus on myself.