“Not at all. I still have time.” I balance the phone on the foot of the couch and bend forward to tie my high heels.
“Great. Then you talk to Dad. I’m going to bed. I was awake so late to wish you good luck.”
Before I can even straighten myself, Mere skids away and Keith’s face fills the screen of my phone. My heart jumps to my throat. The first thing I notice is that he looks more handsome than I imagined all this time. There is an unshaven five o’clock shadow over his face as his green eyes widen upon seeing me.
“Clementine,” he rasps and my eyes close, hearing my name from his lips.
It’s something I’ve dreamed all these past nights and mornings. I can’t stop the tear that rolls down my cheek. Crap! I will have to refresh the makeup.
“You are killing me,” he groans and my eyes open. Keith tunnels his hand through his hair before pulling on it tightly.
How many times have I seen him doing just that? Sometimes in anger, sometimes in frustration, sometimes in confusion at my silly remarks.
I sit upright, before picking up the phone, and I’m sure he got a good view as the camera skims me, toe to head.
“How are you?” he asks, but before I can reply, he says, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for every fucking thing, every fucking time.”
My breath hitches not only at his words but the blazing emotion in his eyes. “Keith, I…can’t. I can’t do this now.” My eyes well and sobs rake through me.
“Don’t cry, please.” The heel of his palm digs into his eyes. “I’m sorry once again for making this important day of yours about me.” He takes a moment’s pause, running his free hand over his forehead. “Mere showed me your pictures from this trip, including your Merida dress. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
My head and heart vibrate completely out of sync. Over the past weeks, I’ve received daily texts from him, some days more than once. But I couldn’t bring myself to reply. Every time I think of him, the thought of him screaming at me on Mere’s birthday comes along with all other memories. But now, seeing him, hearing him, a dormant flame of hope kindles in my heart.
“Tonight’s going to be one of the many special days of your life. Mere and I will be watching your show live on TV.”
I realize this might be the maximum Keith has spoken to me in one sitting. More than the night we made love. More than the night he rescued me.
“You don’t have to do that. You might not like it,” I whisper, trying to keep my heartbeat normal. I don’t think fashion shows, like cinnamon lattes, are his thing.
“There’s nothing you do that I won’t like.” His words make my breath hitch, and a thousand butterflies go crazy in my stomach. “Good luck, Clem.”
He ends the call, leaving me in a weird state of something between half-happy and half-agonized.
My phone rings again in my hand and I pick it up, before my pulse goes wild.
“Clem.” It’s Oscar.
“Hi, Ozzie.” He’s another man who has been in constant touch with me and Tony since I’ve arrived in Tuscany.
“Why aren’t you squealing in excitement?”
His remark makes me chuckle and my heartbeat slowly returns to normal. “Because I’m a bit nervous.”
“You’re doing amazing, Clem. I didn’t realize how good you are until very late. I’m so proud of you.”
My chest puffs at his remark. “If not for you, I wouldn’t even be doing this. It was you and Gram who convinced Mom to let me study fashion.”
“Since then, I’ve made more mistakes than I can count.” My brother sighs.
“You are still my most favorite person, Ozzie.”
* * *
Spring, our redhead debut model, looks amazing in my Merida dress. She is exactly how I envisioned Mere some years from now, a little nervous, a little shy.
“Best of luck.” Vanessa squeezes her shoulder and stands next to me backstage.
I give Spring a thumbs-up right before it’s her turn to walk the runway. My heart skips a beat when she places her first step on the red carpet. Seamlessly, she finishes one round and goes back. Overwhelming emotions of nervousness and euphoria hit me, choking my throat.