Meet Me in London

by Georgia Toffolo

  “It’s just like a real catwalk, like at fashion week.” Nisha’s voice was breathy and reverently low. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Pinch yourself.” Victoria laughed. “Then you’ll believe it.” And just to show them—and in all honesty to show herself that she really wasn’t dreaming—she pinched the skin on the back of her hand. “How’s it going backstage?”

  Although, she didn’t really have to ask, she knew full well: chaos. Loud. Giggling. The girls had asked their school friends to walk for them and their mothers were here too. There was a lot of estrogen in there. A lot of laughter and nerves. Victoria had read them all the riot act about not getting makeup on the clothes and explained three times about the running order. No one seemed to be listening, everyone was high on adrenaline.

  Just as it should be, then. A perfect day.

  Apart from not having one tiny glimpse of Oliver Russell.

  “All sorted.” Jasmine stood back to look at the chairs and nodded her approval. “Just waiting for the male models to arrive. When did Oliver say they’d be here?”

  Victoria eye-rolled at the overfamiliarity. “Mr. Russell’s PA said they’d arrive at two to start at three.”

  “It’s two thirty.” Worry tainted Jas’s young features. “They’re going to miss it.”

  “There’s still plenty of time.” Although Victoria conceded, the girl did have a point. They were going to be under a lot of pressure if they didn’t turn up soon.

  “Not if they need makeup and stuff.” Jasmine’s face fell.

  “It’ll be fine.” Modeling a calm she didn’t feel Victoria patted the girl’s arm. “Don’t worry.”

  She walked over to the glass railing and looked down at the ground floor, trying to get a glimpse of that tall, dark and dangerous-to-her-heart man she’d grown so fond of. But he wasn’t there, or at least she couldn’t see him. But oh, what a successful day Russell & Co. were having. Eric must be so proud.

  The fairy lights on the ceiling had been lit, bathing the whole place in a soft, magical glow. The food stalls were packed out and delicious smells wafted towards her: garlic and ginger, apple and cinnamon, Christmas punch. A brass band played Christmas carols and people were standing around singing, some with snowflakes on their hair and coats.

  “Oh, is it snowing? I hadn’t realized.” She’d been stuck in here all day making final preparations.

  Jasmine nodded. “Yeah. Mum said it’s thick and sticking. Snowball fights in the street later, right?”

  “You’re on.” Oliver’s voice from behind made Victoria’s heart dance. “I hope you’re a good shot.”

  She turned to greet him, still off balance whenever she saw him. He looked magnificent today in his dark gray suit and Russell & Co. blue-and-white tie. His hair had been sleekly combed back which made him look taller and emphasized his eyes.

  She’d been half hoping he’d come and find her, although she knew he’d be busy all day. And every part of her ached for his kiss, but she went for a smile instead. “Hey, Mr. Russell. How’s everything?”

  “Good. Better turnout than I anticipated.” He grinned. “Sorry I haven’t been around, the media circus is bigger than we expected and I’ve been stuck doing interviews.”

  “That’s brilliant. The village is a hit.”

  “It certainly is. There is one thing, though.” His genial expression changed, and he walked her away, out of earshot of her students.

  Anxiety gripped her gut. “What? Is it your dad?”

  “No, he’s in my office talking at the accountant. Got to feel sorry for the number-cruncher, right?” He ran his hands down his face. “I’m really sorry, V. But they’re stuck in traffic.”

  “Who are?” Her heart thumped and pumped as if it was on steroids.

  “The guys I hired for the runway. The male models.” His eyebrows rose in apology. “This snowstorm has caused traffic chaos across town apparently and everything’s backed up. They’re not going to be here in time for the start.”

  “What? No! I’m going first.” Jasmine had followed them and was eavesdropping, her hands to her mouth. “They won’t be here in time for my show?”

  Victoria kept her voice level. Find some calm. “Jasmine, this is a private conversation.”

  But tears filled the girl’s brown eyes as she dropped her hands in resignation. “I guess that’s that then. It was only a dream anyway. Stupid dream too.”

  “It is not a stupid dream, Jasmine. It’s a fabulous one and we’re going to fix this.” Victoria turned to Oliver, trying to keep the panic out of her tone. “Can we get someone else to do it?”

  He inhaled. “Like who?”

  “Nisha’s brothers?” They all looked hopefully over the balcony and saw the long queue of people waiting at Aziz’s stall.

  Oliver shook his head. “Unlikely.”

  “Miss?” Nisha had now joined them and clearly sensed something wasn’t right. “What’s happened?”

  Victoria dug deep for what she hoped was a reassuring smile, even though she wasn’t feeling reassured at all. “The male models are caught up in traffic but don’t worry, we’ll work it out.”

  “How, miss? How will we? Each of us needs at least one guy to walk. Mr. Russell? What can we do?”

  All heads turned to Ollie and Victoria immediately felt sorry for him. It wasn’t his fault the weather gods hadn’t come to the party. But he nodded and started to walk towards the escalator. “I’ll ask some of the staff from menswear to come and help out. There must be someone who can do this.”

  “Brilliant idea!” Victoria gave the girls a see, I knew he’d fix this look. Because she had every faith that he would. He’d go above and beyond for them. She knew that now. He would move heaven and earth for those he cared for.

  Nisha called out to his retreating back. “Make sure they’re tall like you, sir. I haven’t time to take anything up.”

  He disappeared and Victoria sent the girls into the changing area to explain the problem to everyone else. Meanwhile, she paced. When she saw him coming down the escalator with a young man his height and almost his build, she almost kissed him.

  Again.

  That kissing thing was becoming a problem. The whole liking him thing was too. Because she did. Too much. But she didn’t have time to focus too hard on it right now.

  Ollie grinned as he stepped off the escalator and slapped the lad on his back. “Tom’s going to help. He’s actually modeled before. So that’s a win.”

  “This is all a win. Really.” Victoria breathed out. This wasn’t going to be a disaster. “Fantastic. Thanks, Tom.”

  “But...” Ollie shrugged. “Everyone else is busy or flat-out said no.”

  “Well, thanks anyway. One is better than none. We’ll have to rearrange...” She looked at the invited guests taking their seats next to the runway and changed her mind. “No, we haven’t time to rearrange anything. We’ll just have to drop some of the clothes from the show. Shame, because Jasmine’s are really something. I’ll go break the news. Come on, Tom. Let’s get you kitted out.”

  She started to walk away. It would be OK. Showing some of their designs would be better than none. “We just need to choose the best ones to show, that’s all.”

  “I’ll do it.” The voice was resigned but determined.

  She turned around to Ollie. “You’ll do what?”

  “I’ll walk for you.”

  “No! No. You don’t have to.”

  He fell into step with her as they walked towards the changing area. “This is my fault. I should have organized them to come earlier. I thought there’d be enough time.”

  There was never going to be enough time, she knew that now. “You didn’t know it was going to snow.”

  “Actually, I did.” He looked guilty. “I read the weather forecast about a huge dumping of snow today. But I
was only thinking about the impact it might have on customer numbers. I dropped the ball on the fashion show.”

  “Then that’s your karma. Come on, let’s get you changed. This, I have got to see.”

  * * *

  Jasmine’s squeals were almost deafening as she watched from the back of the stage as the first of the models stepped out from the curtain. “Someone just took a photograph of my dress!”

  “I know. I can see.” While Oliver got changed Victoria had slid next to Jasmine and peeked out at the packed seats. There was standing room only now. On the front row someone she thought she recognized from the media had his eyes glued to the model walking down the runway, then jotted down notes on a tablet. A warm, bright feeling shone in the center of Victoria’s chest. “That’s fabulous. This is going to be so great for you, Jas.”

  “Is that...is that the editor of Vogue?”

  Oh. My. God. Victoria’s breath stalled in her lungs. It was. No wonder he’d looked familiar. “Um. Yes, it is. Front row.”

  “How do I look?” Ollie tapped her on the shoulder. “Be gentle. Lie if you need to.”

  “Great!”

  Although when he gazed down at the skull hoodie and safety-pinned trousers he didn’t look as if he felt great at all. He grimaced and plucked at the hoodie. “I am so far out of my comfort zone right now.”

  “You look well peng.” She laughed at his expression. “Do you know the editor of Vogue?”

  “Not personally, but we sent out invitations to the editors of all the fashion magazines. A few RSVP’d. Some might want to interview the girls later, so make sure they stay awhile after the show.”

  She hadn’t realized the extent of his help. “I can’t thank you enough for this. You’ve made their day. Life, actually. You’ve been approachable and encouraging and not enough people are like that.”

  “Just look at them.” He grinned at Jasmine’s excited face and Nisha’s quiet little fist pump. “I’m happy to do it. Even if I have to do this.”

  And she knew he was. That helping her and her students had made him happy.

  “Oh, God.” His smile wavered. “Jasmine’s calling me. It’s my cue. Why did I offer to do this?”

  “Because you’re amazing.” She instinctively leaned forward to kiss him—because that was what she wanted to do. All. The. Time. But realized the girls were watching, so she patted his back instead. “Off you go.”

  “Just don’t expect me to wiggle my way down the runway.”

  “Break a leg.”

  Break my heart.

  She didn’t have to watch to know he was a roaring success. The minute he stepped out onto the runway whistles and cheers erupted from the audience.

  Time slowed. The bright lights blurred her vision, as if she was looking through a soft-focus lens. The noise seemed to retreat, and her eyes zeroed in on him as he did actually wiggle, making the audience cheer, and her heart flooded with warmth. She loved that he was willing to look ridiculous to help the girls. Loved that he’d done all this for her and for them. Loved the way he was smiling, the little bum wiggle he’d insisted he wasn’t going to do.

  Loved the way he’d kissed her on the top of her head in the same way he’d kissed the other people he cared for. Loved...

  Oh, God. It hit her as she watched him take a dramatic bow that was so not what a model should do, but he got away with it because he was Oliver Freaking Russell. The guy with a big heart and the best kisses.

  The hot sting of tears pricked her eyes.

  She loved him.

  Even though it was stupid, fairy-tale flipping madness to do so. Because, she couldn’t have that damned fairy tale.

  She pushed the tears away as she saw him walking back up the runway and found a smile. She couldn’t let him see how she felt. The deal was ending in...oh, a few minutes.

  He threw his arms around her and laughed. “That was fun.”

  “You were brilliant,” she managed through a thick throat. She just wanted more time.

  “I know.” His laughter faded as he became serious, running his thumb over her lip. “V—”

  “Sir! Come on, you’ve got to get ready for the next one. And, miss! You need to tell us which dresses you want to show first,” Nisha interrupted, and Victoria sprang away from him.

  “Right. Yes. Coming.”

  “No rest for the wicked,” he growled in her ear as he pressed against her. The word wicked was delicious and dangerous and filled with a promise she couldn’t keep. It was tempting to play with him right now. To allow herself to fall further under his spell. But.

  She just couldn’t.

  “And here are the cavalry.” Giving her one last sexy misted look he raised his palms at two young men who were running into the changing area with calls of Sorry we’re late! and, Traffic was horrible! Oliver wiped his forearm over his face. “Saved from more righteous humiliation.”

  Trying to keep her fraying nerves and shaking hands under control, Victoria went to get her models ready for her collection, her mind whirring with the revelation.

  She loved him.

  It was a full body blow. An actual physical ache.

  She tried to concentrate on the now. On her clothes. On this wonderful opportunity. And not on him and a future that was looking pretty bleak right now.

  The show was a hit. So much applause, so many people taking notes. She watched, biting her nails, from the edge of the stage. The bridesmaids’ dresses received oohs and aahs and gradually her nerves started to dissipate. They liked her clothes. It wasn’t polite clapping, it was encouraging and excited.

  And then the model wearing her wedding dress stepped on to the runway and the noise stopped.

  “What?” She looked from the model to Oliver who was standing close. Too close. “What’s the matter?”

  “They love it. Can’t you see? They love it.” He was staring at the dress. Just looking at it, his eyes soft, and then back at her. “It’s beautiful, V.”

  It was. She peeked out again and saw people frantically scribbling, some dictating behind their hands into their phones. And too soon the last song started to play. It was the beginning and end of her dream. She blew out a long-held breath. “I can’t believe how well it’s gone.”

  “It’s been amazing, miss,” Billie said, her large eyes glistening as she and the other two girls joined them for one last peek from behind the curtain. “Thank you, so much.”

  “Oh.” Victoria’s heart swelled and a lump rose in her throat. She was going to say, my pleasure, because it absolutely was, but it was so much more than that. She was part of something that felt...amazing, and well, a lot like a family. “It wasn’t really me, it was all Mr. Russell’s doing.”

  “Thank you, Ollie,” Jasmine said with a very mischievous grin.

  “Hey, I should be thanking you. Look at all those VIPs your show brought in. Now they’re going to spend up large in my shop,” Ollie said, and Victoria could see that he was feeling the same punch of pride as she was and making a joke because he didn’t know quite how to handle the praise, or the girls.

  And that made her love him even more.

  He called them all close. “Right, you know what happens now?”

  “No?” Nisha frowned.

  “You go on that stage and you soak up all that applause. Go on, Jasmine, Nisha, Billie. I am so proud of you.” And he ushered them out to the sound of stamping feet and cheers.

  “Thank you.” She could barely say the words to him. He’d done all this and she would forever be grateful. The joy those girls were experiencing was multiplied a zillion times in her heart.

  “You did this, Victoria. You. You’ve made their dreams come true. I just paid for the props, but you took their dreams and made them into real designers. I’m in awe. I just wish I could have done more.” His arm spiraled her waist as he pulled
her against his hard body. “It’s your turn now.”

  She wanted so much to curl into his arms and sink into the happy feeling buzzing in her chest. But she couldn’t. Her heart cracked. She loved this man. So much for protecting herself. For playing the game. Because, hell, she was going to lose. “Sorry? What?”

  “Come on. For your bow.” He stepped onto the plinth and tugged her hand. “Come on. They want to see you.”

  She stepped back, her arm stretching as she kept a tight grip on his hand. “No, I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can. You have to thank them for coming.” He gave her no choice but to follow him and they walked out to a sea of smiling faces.

  Wow. Just wow. She breathed in. And again. So much noise. The lights hurt her eyes and it was easier to see the people at the back... Lily, waving and cheering as if Victoria had just won Designer of the Year. Oh, Lils! So lovely to see her smiling face.

  The crowd was standing now and clapping as Victoria sashayed down the runway. They liked her designs. They were laughing and cheering for her, and it was infectious.

  With her hand raised in a wave she turned to her right and scanned the audience and...gulped. Because there in her line of vision were Andrew, Peter and Emilia deep in conversation. Ugh.

  Peter looked furious, Andrew looked as if he’d just eaten something bitter and Emilia looked as if she’d backed the wrong horse.

  This will show them I can move on. She gave Emilia a wink and walked to the end of the runway. Right in front of her, Ollie’s mum and dad sat beaming and clapping. Stella looked transfixed, Eric looked weak but he was smiling. He seemed better, but not out of the woods yet. She nodded to them, a tiny part of her wishing this wasn’t make-believe, wishing she wasn’t lying to them.

  “Hey.” Oliver stopped walking and squeezed her hand. “You’re amazing, Victoria Scott.”

  “So are you. This has been an amazing day. Thank you. I don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

  He turned to her then and caught her chin in his fingers. The cheers and the clapping melted away and she looked at him. His eyes were glittering. Back in his suit he looked so handsome. So kind. So...